Page 94 of The Brutal Arrangement

“I did,” I hurriedly replied. “Ididwork for him.”

“See?” Grigory pointed at me again, as if the direction of his aim was a magical force that would sic these two guards on me. “Get her now!”

“No!” I backed up more as one almost grabbed me. “I worked at his residence as a maid.” Fearing Grigory couldn’t or wouldn’t hear me, I beseeched Anastasia to listen. “I worked for the Kozlov residence for a short time as theirmaid.” She damn well knew it. I had suspected for a long time now that she scorned me for having such a simple job that would make me beneath her elite status of a wealthy mafia woman.

“I was a maid!” I insisted.

“No, you’re a spy, you fucking whore,” Grigory insisted.

One guard took hold of my arm. My heart lurched, beating so fast in my ribcage that it seemed like it had to be banging against the bones. I couldn’t suck in air fast enough as I tried to pull out of the guard’s grip. The need to break free fueled me to resist, but I feared fighting back too much that he’d use more force on me. I had to protect my baby at all costs.

“I don’t understand,” Anastasia said, shaking her head. “Grigory, she was a maid.”

“Only a maid,” I yelled as the guards dragged me out of the room.

“She must be a spy!” Grigory yelled.

“No, I’m not. Ask Damon. Someone, please.” I pinned Anastasis with a begging gaze. “Please. Call Damon!”

He wasn’t here to defend me. He wasn’t home to set the record straight. I wasn’t a spy, and I never would be. I didn’t want to consider how addled Grigory’s mind had to be for him to spew such lies about me.

Delusional but still holding power, he was a wild card in terms of my safety.

“Take her to the basement,” he ordered as the guard dragged me toward the elevator, yanking me out of the peace I’d felt in the place I was supposed to call home.

“If you want to talk to Damon, you can talk to him down there,” Grigory growled, lifting his hand as if to strike me again. I cowered and tensed, bracing for the hit.

“No! Please don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt?—”

The guard moved faster, hauling me on to the elevator before Grigory could reach me. As the doors slid shut and I panted out of breath from the shock, I watched as Anastasia questioned Grigory and blocked him from getting onto the elevator with me. But as the gap closed, he sneered at me with the vacant eyes of a madman. He scowled at me with that same lost expression of cluelessness and agitation that I’d witnessed in patients who lived with my mom.

If he was lucid and aware of what he was doing, sending me to the dungeons, then there was only one explanation.

I’d been set up to take this fall.

I’d been framed to look like a traitor, just like his wife had once been.

“Please, let me talk to Damon,” I begged of the guards in the elevator who flanked me.

They didn’t reply.

“Call my husband!”

Again, they remained stone-faced and silent.

“Please. You’re making a mistake.”

Nothing.

“Please call Damon. My husband.”

Still, they didn’t react.

“I’m not a spy. Grigory isn’t informed. I was a maid, nothing more.” Shaking my head at this hopelessness that threatened to strangle me, I whimpered. “Call Maxim.” He was supposed to be in charge now while Grigory went back and forth with his cognitive ability as he recovered. “Please. Call any of the brothers. You can’t listen to Grigory like that. He’s not in charge to call any orders. Maxim is. Or Damon. Grigory isn’t aware of what he’s saying.”

“Shut up,” the guard to my left warned.

“No!” I would not shut up or be quiet. I could accept how little control I had in this family and in this organization, but I had accepted that with the understanding that my husband would keep me safe. That my association with him, as his wife, would bar me from any such treatment like this.

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