1. Prologue

As I breathe in the foul air of this room, I"m relieved that Ivan has been absent for days. His constant assaults have been unbearable. With my hands bound above my head, I slowly open my eyes and survey the cellar. Nothing has changed, it is still the same damp, cold room. I'm still not home. The ache in my chest returns. I fight the feelings as I close my eyes again. The only thing keeping me grounded is the tiny life growing inside my womb - my malysh (baby). Their presence gives me a sense of time, a faint semblance of hope amidst the haze that surrounds me.

My body hardly feels anything anymore. It's no longer mine.

Why hasn't Lenya found me yet? Is he trying to find me?

What if Ivan is right? What if Lenya no longer wants me because Ivan has tainted me?

That thought alone breaks me. My body shakes uncontrollably, deep sobs escape my lips. I don't know what I would do if I were to lose Lenya. Even though we came together in the most unorthodox of ways, I fell madly in love with him. I believed he loved me just as much.

Ivan's words break me mentally. "He will come and take his child and leave you to me. You are nothing but a whore now, Lina. Men like Leonid don't keep whores."

I want to cry, but I don't have the strength to.

Heavy footsteps descend the stairs, and the door unlocks, creaking open. Igor enters the room with two men trailing behind him. One man holds clothing in his arms. "Podnimi yeye, primi dush, i oden'. Vykhodim cherez pyatnadtsat' minut." (Get her up, showered, and dressed. We leave in fifteen minutes.) Igor's words shock me. Where are we going? Is this it? Am I to die now?

"Da Ser!" (Yes Sir)

The men move to the bed and untie me. I move to swing my legs over the side of the bed. All I feel is pain, though.

"I can't…" I grimace as I try to put weight on my feet.

Igor grumbles to the men. "Carry her upstairs."

One man bends and picks me up, bridal style, and makes his way to the stairs. "Mne zhal(I'm sorry), Mrs. Igorova." The man's voice is soft, and I don't detect hatred in his tone, unlike Igor. It seems as if he is truly sorry.

"Let me go, pozhaluysta." (please) I beg him.

"I cannot," his voice wavers with conflict.

I remain silent as the man carries me up the stairs. My mind races with fear and uncertainty. What awaits me at the end of this? Death? Will I ever see the light of day again?

As we reach the top of the stairs, he crosses a small kitchen and heads to another set of stairs. Once we reach the top, I look around a small bedroom. The man gently sets me down on a plush carpet. The room is dimly lit, filled with heavy curtains and antique furniture. It feels like a prison, suffocating and oppressive.

Igor approaches me, his face unreadable. "Shower and get dressed," he commands in a cold, authoritative tone. The other man hands me the clothing and I reluctantly take it, feeling a mix of anger and resignation. I know I have no choice but to comply. The man who carried me helped me make my way into the bathroom. He turns the small shower on and then steps back.

My dignity has gone with being raped, so I don't ask him to step out. I shed the filthy clothes and step under the hot water. My eyes move to the man, and to my surprise, he isn't looking. He is posted at the doorway, almost as if to keep someone from getting in rather than me escaping. I clean myself as best I can, working my fingers through my knotted hair. The lukewarm water washes over me, removing Ivan from my skin, soothing the dull ache that is my whole body. Once finished, I step out and change into the clothes, the pain in my body intensifies. Every movement is a reminder of the abuse I have endured. Tears well up in my eyes, but I quickly wipe them away, refusing to show weakness.

When fully clothed, I stand before Igor, my body trembling with both fear and defiance. "Where are you taking me?" I manage to ask, my voice quivering.

Igor's eyes narrow, but he remains silent for a moment before finally answering, his voice filled with cruel amusement. "You'll find out soon enough," he sneers. "But for now, you will do as you're told. I wouldn't want to kill you prematurely."

The realization sinks in. This is not the end. This is only the beginning of a nightmare that seems to have no end. I feel a surge of anger rise within me, fueling my need to survive.

As we prepare to leave, I glance at the man who carried me upstairs. His eyes meet mine, and in that fleeting moment, I see a spark of empathy. Perhaps there is a glimmer of hope amidst this darkness, a chance for redemption.

But for now, I must focus on survival. With each step I take, I steel myself for the unknown horrors that lie ahead. I will not let fear consume me. I will fight for my freedom, for my life, and the life of my child.