Page 32 of Stolen Empire
"You can't just decide that!"
"I already have."
I stare at him, my chest heaving, and I feel the tears burning at the edges of my eyes.
I won't cry.
I refuse to cry in front of him.
But the fear is clawing at me now, deeper and darker than before.
I think about my mother, alone in Perm, never knowing what happened to me.
She won't look for me.
She won't file a report or call the police.
She'll assume I moved on, the way I always do, and eventually, she'll forget I existed at all.
The thought sucks the breath from my lungs, and I sink to my knees.
My hands are shaking, and I press them against the floor, trying to steady myself.
"Please," I whisper. "I just want to go home."
Dimitri rises from his chair and crosses the room.
He stops in front of me, and I feel his presence looming over me before he crouches down, his face level with mine.
I force myself to look up at him though it strains my neck.
"Have you learned your lesson?" he asks.
I don't answer.
"I asked you a question, Katya. Have you learned your lesson? Do you understand that you belong to me, that I can do with you as I please?"
The words taste bitter, but I force them out.
"Yes."
"Say it."
"I belong to you." My voice is barely audible, and I hate how small it sounds. "You can do with me as you please."
It's degrading in this context, being broken like a fucking horse in a corral.
Next he'll have a bridle and saddle and he'll try to whip me into shape.
He studies me for a moment, and then he stands, offering me his hand.
I hesitate, staring at it, and then I take it.
His grip is firm, and he pulls me to my feet.
My legs are unsteady, and I sway slightly, but he doesn't let go.
"Good," he says. "Now we can move forward."
