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People say death is the end. For me, it’s only the beginning.
I won’t be Winter Cavanaugh anymore. My thoughts are reinforced when the Russian says, “From now on, you’re Lia Volkov. Wife of Adrian Volkov.”
I’m Winter Cavanaugh and I’m living on behalf of myself and my baby girl.
Was…all of that a dream? No. I don’t dream—let alone about being raped. And yet, I’m all alone in the room and my clothes are intact. I was even covered by a duvet. Not to mention the evidence that’s staring at me on my fingers.
“If I wanted to fuck you, I wouldn’t need to rape you for it.” He glides the towel over my hand. “What made you think that I did it?”
Adrian Volkov might have thought he hit the jackpot by finding his dead wife’s lookalike, but what he doesn’t know is that he fell upon a shell. And inside this shell, there’s nothing for him to bring out.
“You don’t seem to grasp the situation, so let me explain it to you for the last time, Lia. You’re my wife, my property, my thing. That means you walk the line I trace and make the decisions I allow. If I say you leave your will at the door, you do. If I say you will walk blindly into a well, you will. In my house, my word is law and my decisions are final. If you feel the need to defy me, by all means, do. I’ll enjoy every second of whipping you into submission.”
My silence is my only defense mechanism against him, my last piece of armor, and if I let him take that, too, then I’m well and truly screwed. My identity will be erased and I’ll merely be a washed-out version of his wife.
My name is Winter Cavanaugh. I’m not Lia Volkov and I’m no way in hell this madman’s wife.
I know he thinks he’s looking at his wife, and not me, but how lucky can a woman be to have a man look at her that way? Like he’ll destroy the world as long as she stays safe?
This little boy was brought up to be a man at a young age. No child should feel it’s okay that his father spends more time with his work than with him. No child should be happy that he plays with him only sometimes. If he couldn’t raise a kid, why bring him into the world?
“The big deal is that no one looks at you the way I do. No one gets a glimpse at what’s mine.”
But the truth remains—he’s only seeing Lia in me. And I’m far from being her or her ghost. I’m a shell who needs to go back to her numb state before I become a danger to his and his son’s life.
“My name is Winter.”
“You can’t erase my name. It’s Winter. At least call me that when it’s the two of us.”
“You can play your sick games all you want, Adrian, but you won’t be able to wipe away who I am. What I am.”
Because at this moment, I realize that he’ll never see me. That, just like in the ballet, I’m only a shadow of someone else. An insignificant nobody.
“Do you need Mommy too, Papa?” Adrian pauses before he says calmly, assertively, “I do.”
“I wish I’d never met you.” My lips brush against her forehead. “I’ll meet you over and over again if I have to.”
“You’re so beautiful,” he rasps, rolling his hips until his cock is all the way inside me. “You’re fucking home.”
He doesn’t see me. He’s only seeing Lia. That thought cuts me open so deep, a tear slides down my cheek, mixing with the water and falling down the drain. Because I know, I just know that he’ll never see me as Winter. I’ll always be Lia.
This woman is intoxicating. She crept under my skin and injected her black magic into my bones. Now, she’s the reason I breathe. I feel like if I stop touching her, if I let her go, she’ll disappear again. I’ll never have her again.
“Make it a hundred. I don’t fucking care.” She hits my chest with a closed fist. “You’re erasing me, Adrian. You’re wiping me from existence.”
I love making her happy. I love how she melts in my arms and I intend to show her how much I love it all night long.
And I do remember. It’s true. My name is Lia. Lia Volkov.
