I’ve lost all track of time. Without windows, I can’t even say whether it’s day or night. The sensory deprivation is something I’m used to, but the lack of human contact is affecting me far more than I ever thought it could. I never thought I would crave interaction, but as I sit here, with what feels like the first vestiges of insanity caressing the edge of my mind, I wonder if all those men I hated so much actually kept me sane? Were those bleak interactions actually necessary to my survival? No, I refuse to believe that. Resting my back to the wall, I pull my knees to my chest and close my eyes. Rafael is right there, waiting behind my closed lids like an apparition. A small smile touches my lips when I picture him. He may well be the only thing keeping me even slightly sane. I always knew hope was dangerous, but there it is, like a tiny flame barely staying alight in the darkness; the hope that Rafael will save me from this, even though the few rational parts of my mind know it’s impossible. Stupid. So very stupid. The only way I’m walking out of here is if my sister comes for me, and I pray that she doesn’t.

I hear the metallic click of the lock releasing, followed by the loud squealing of the hinges as the heavy metal door is opened. I expect the guard to come in with food, the same as always. Instead, Nicholai walks in, his immaculate suit in place, that cold, absent look in his eyes. The door slams closed behind him, the bang like a gunshot in the enclosed concrete cell.

“Ah, little bird.” A twisted smile pulls at his lips as his eyes flick over me. I say nothing, although a warped part of me craves this conversation, no matter how repulsive. “I hope you are finding your accommodations suitable.”

I glance at him. “I’ve had worse.”

He grins. “Ah, yes. A sex slave to the Sinaloa, but not before a stint with Alexandru Dalca.” He lifts his brows, and I inwardly flinch at the sound of The Master’s real name. My stomach churns uncomfortably. “He’s a man of rather…specific tastes, is he not?” I don’t answer, and his grin only widens. “And he does pay well.” This man is at the top of the Bratva, which makes him responsible for taking and selling me, just as he stole my sister all those years ago. I fear him almost as much as I’m disgusted by him.

“Why are you here?” I ask.

He folds his arms over his chest and leans against the wall next to the door. “Rafael D’Cruze.” My chest tightens at the sound of his name on this mans lips. “What is he to you?”

I swallow heavily, trying to force my mind to think. “He took me in when Nero bought me from the Sinaloa.”

His icy blue eyes narrow. “So he is loyal to you?”

I shrug one shoulder. “He may feel a duty of protection.”

“But you are loyal to him.”

“This has nothing to do with Rafael. He only took me in at Nero’s request. This is about my sister and Nero Verdi.”

He smirks. “I have your sister.”

That takes me off guard. “You do?”

“Yes, soon my little dove will be restored to her former glory.”

“If Una is here then why do you still want me?”

“It seems Rafael D’Cruze would like you back, but I have much better uses for you.” He claps his hands together and pushes off the wall, coming over to the cot. Sitting on the edge, he reaches out and strokes a cold finger down my cheek. “You are my little dove’s sister,” he says with almost childlike glee. “Such prize genetics. You know, children are the easiest to mold. The younger you train them, the more loyal they are. The better soldiers they become.” He sighs. “I regret that I did not find my little dove sooner.” A chill sweeps over my skin at his words. Child soldiers. It’s so wrong. “But imagine if you bred soldiers…” I freeze, my heart rate ticking up as the gravity of what he’s saying sinks in. “You will breed the next generation, little bird. Your sister will give me a child, and so will you.”

“No.” I shake my head, backing away from him, but there’s nowhere to go. Only this room.

He grabs my hand, smiling at me. “You will be well taken care of.” He says it as though this will reassure me. He stands, and I pull my trembling hands against my stomach.

“I can’t have children!” I blurt. It may be a death sentence, but I don’t care because I know what comes next.

He smiles indulgently. “Oh, you will, little bird.” He walks to the door and raps over the metal. It opens with a high-pitched squeal, and he beckons someone inside. A man steps forward, his back ramrod straight and his hands clasped behind his back.

“Sir,” the man says, his absolute undivided attention on Nicholai.

“You are to impregnate her.” He points at me, and my chest tightens until I can barely suck oxygen into my lungs. Squeezing my eyes shut, I will myself to calm, to find the numb indifference I used to fall into so easily. My pulse hammers against my eardrums in an erratic rhythm. The deafening bang of the door slamming shut echoes through my mind, and I open my eyes. The soldier is standing in the middle of the room, his expression devoid of anything whatsoever.

Marching over to me, he grabs my ankles and pulls until I’m flat on my back. He tears the tracksuit pants down my legs before unbuckling his belt. It’s methodical and detached. The panic is rising, creeping higher and higher until he presses his body between my legs. This isn’t happening. Not again. I can’t.

“Please. No.” A choked sob leaves me, and I push against him, trying to fight him off, but it‘s pointless. I’m weak and unprepared for this. He holds me down and forces himself inside me, tearing through all my barriers. My walls crumble, and my world turns to rubble in a matter of seconds. I thought I was safe. I’ll never be safe. My mind dives into a flat spin, and I start to free-fall, plummeting helplessly towards the ground so fast, I can’t even process the descent. My mind blinks, like a light flashing on and off before it finally checks out completely. I sink into the cold dark waters in the depths of my very self, allowing them to drown out everything. Instead of fighting it, I welcome the darkness with open arms, and it falls over me like a warm blanket, swaddling me in its embrace. I barely register the rigid, awkward movements of his body.

It’s over almost as quickly as it started. He simply gets up and leaves, the door slamming shut behind him. The sliding of the lock signals that I’m once again alone in my imprisonment. Awareness gradually creeps back in, and I wish it wouldn’t. Dragging myself off the bed, I make it to the toilet in the corner of the room before throwing up the entire contents of my stomach.

I thought I’d escaped this life, but now I’m right back here, forced to endure it once more. And for what? To carry a child I’m incapable of conceiving? It was the first thing The Master did: sterilize me. Nicholai wants a child, which means I will have to endure this over and over again until he realizes it’s pointless.

I slide to the ground, my bare skin hitting the concrete floor. Hopelessness consumes me again, and even though I know it’s for the best, I hate it. Squeezing my eyes shut, I think of Rafael and tears streak down my face. What would he think of me now? Even if I do ever escape this place, will he still want me when they’re done with me? This feels like a betrayal to him, and I hate that I’m not strong enough to stop this.

I hate myself.