71. Tessa

71

Tessa

W hen I wake, I'm lying on a bed. My whole body aches and the pounding inside my head makes me want to vomit. At least I'm still wearing the same clothes, thank God.

It takes a few seconds for everything to come flooding back. The moment I do remember, I sit up, adrenaline flooding my body, pushing my heart rate up dangerously high.

Where's Chloe?

There's no sign of her. No cot, no baby stuff, no nothing.

I leap from the bed, ignoring the painful throbbing behind my temples.

The bedroom door is locked. I still slam my fist against it, but there's no response. Just silence. So I try the window. That's locked too.

I'm at least two floors up. Even if I try to smash the glass, I can't escape without risking a permanent injury.

After screaming and yelling for an hour, my throat is hoarse and I'm exhausted. Images of Chloe and all the many awful things that could be happening to her filter through my brain on repeat.

I want to curl up into a ball on the floor and cry, but I push the despair back. Chloe needs me to stay strong.

Then I hear footsteps outside the door and the sound of a lock disengaging. Crazy Granny walks in with Chloe in her arms, dressed in a fucking awful pink frock. It's truly hideous. The kind of dress a kid from the 1950s would wear.

"Hello, Tessa. How are you feeling?" the woman asks. She smiles like we're on vacation. It's truly alarming how disconnected from reality she is. "Did you sleep well?"

"Please give Chloe to me," I grit out, aware that antagonizing the woman won't help. "She must want feeding by now."

"Oh, she's had a bottle. My sweet zayka guzzled it down, didn't you, angel?"

Chloe stares at me, her eyes bright with tears, but she doesn't cry. Her cheeks are pale and she looks exhausted and confused.

"She's used to breast milk, not formula."

"And we need to change that. Can't have my granddaughter relying on you!"

"You keep saying she's your granddaughter but she can't be." It's probably a stupid idea to poke holes in the woman's story, but I'm sick of her thinking she has a claim on my daughter.

"Oh, but she is, Tessa. My son is Chloe's biological father."

My brow wrinkles in confusion. I'm almost certain Enzo told me his mother died when he was a kid. He never specified how, but I assumed it was an illness or something. We didn't really talk about our families because neither of us had much of one. Or so he believed.

"You're Enzo's mother?"

"No, dorogaya . I'm Elena, Sergei's mother."

Who the fuck is Sergei? I'm so confused.

"Sergei?"

Elena sighs like I'm stupid and know nothing. She's right. I really don't know anything at this point. I'm also starting to question this woman's mental state. Perhaps she's on drugs. I hear that menopause can leave some women unhinged. She's definitely old enough to be menopausal.

"Yes, Sergei Mashkov is my son. And he's Chloe's father," she repeats, patiently, like she's talking to a four-year-old.

"But he can't be. Enzo is Chloe's father." The woman is literally insane.

"Pretty sure I'd remember having sex with someone other than Enzo around the time of Chloe's conception," I snap.

The way she smiles knowingly has me doubting myself. What was it the Queen of England said when Meghan and Harry started yapping about shit? Oh yes . 'Recollections may vary'.

"You don't remember," she says.

"Obviously not, no!" There is a flicker of unease. The only night around that time where things are a little hazy is when Enzo took me to the club on my birthday and I blacked out. He told me I got embarrassingly drunk, and we had sex, but I couldn't remember any of it. By the time I woke up in our bed at home, it was the next day.

I was so sick after. It took hours for the vomiting to ease, and another two days for the headache to fade.

It was the last time we had sex. Or so I thought.

The way Elena watches me with a small smile like she's privy to things I'm not makes me wonder if Enzo lied to me.

"The club," I say, almost to myself.

Elena's smile widens. "My son isn't a good person," she says in the same regretful but borderline amused way a person would apologize for their dog humping the sofa at a family gathering. "He likes to take things. Make them his."

All the many things she's not saying crystallize in my mind. "He raped me at the club?"

Elna shrugs. Clearly, rape isn't a big deal in her world, which says a lot about her morals. Or lack thereof.

"It's his little peccadillo. Powerful men like him need control in their lives."

"And you're OK with the fact he raped me? While I was unconscious?" Someone, probably Enzo, must have drugged me.

I think back to all the nightmares I've had in the last year and I wonder if my subconscious was trying to tell me what really happened that night. The memories were there, just not accessible.

"Like I said, men have their little habits. And it gave me my sweet zayka, so I'm not upset."

"You have no proof."

"Oh, but I do. I took a cheek swab from Chloe and we ran a DNA test. It's 99.9% conclusive Sergei is Chloe's biological father."

It finally sinks in. This woman's son raped me. Enzo must have known about it. Did he set me up? Was it all planned before we went to the club?

My stomach heaves and I think for a horrible moment I might vomit all over the plush cream carpet, but my stomach is empty. Frozen yogurt was the last thing I ate. Was that yesterday?

An image of Harry's face pops into my head and I pray Kade has him somewhere safe.

"Mama!" Chloe reaches for me, but Elena refuses to let her go. She clings on to my baby, ignoring her cries and whimpers. I briefly entertain the idea of punching the bitch in the face, but I can't risk it. Although I do take some satisfaction that her nose is still bruised and swollen from where I punched her at the daycare center.

There's nothing I can do while she's holding Chloe. And also, I have no idea where I am, or how many guards this place has. From the view out of the window, we're well outside the city. For all I know, we could even be out of the country. It's impossible to tell. My phone is probably still in Kade's car and there's no clock in here, so I have no clue what time it is.

"Shush, little baby, it's time for dinner."

My stomach gurgles at the mention of food and Elena gives me one of her creepy smiles.

"If you're willing to behave, you can join us for dinner."

"Us?" God, if she wants me to sit down for a cozy dinner with my rapist, I might have to stab her.

"Aleksander is here. Chloe's brother."

"She already has a brother," I mutter, but Elena ignores me.

"Follow me."

Chloe whimpers and grizzles as Elena strides out and I follow her like an obedient little lamb. Right now, she has all the power, and as much as I feel like murdering the bitch, I have to play it safe. At least until I know what her end-game is.