Chapter One Hundred and Nineteen

Irina

Three weeks had passed.

Three weeks of living in hell.

Every morning, I woke on the thin mattress in my tiny room, wishing it was all a nightmare.

But it never was.

The routine was always the same. Wake at dawn. Clean the hallways. Scrub the floors. Serve breakfast to Alexei and his men.

And try not to look at my son.

Because seeing Nikolai hurt more than anything else.

Today was no different.

I carried a tray of coffee into Alexei's dining room, keeping my hands steady despite the rage burning inside me.

Alexei sat at the head of the table. And in...