Russian Boss’s Secret Baby by Bella King

Ch 19

MIA

I’m so scared that I can hardly get air into my lungs. I feel like I’m choking on my own lungs as I breathe, trying to find an escape from this nightmare that doesn’t require me to hang myself from the curtain rod or slit my wrists with a razor blade.

Slate is outside the bedroom door, pounding away, attempting to sound agreeable and patient even though his irritation shows through so obviously.

I remember the tests, and suddenly I am thrown into a full-blown panic. My thoughts cease. I am unable to form rational ideas or make a plan. I haven’t even seen the test and I feel like I’m going to die instantly when I look at it.

“Mia, you can’t live in my bedroom. You know I can break in and get to you if I want to. Stop playing games with me, let’s just talk.”

What was I thinking trying to hide in his bedroom? Of course he can get in here. He’s just being nice to me by pretending he can’t, showing some sick form of mercy in his own way. I need to make a decision now.

There’s one single window in this bathroom, and it leads to a series of shade trees that line up about twenty feet from a fire escape at the back of this wing of the mansion. If I’m not able to keep myself stable when I try to climb over, I’ll fall probably thirty feet. Not enough to kill me, but definitely enough to severely injure me and kill my baby.

Slate has quit pounding at the door now, and I listen intently for his voice or any sign that he’s nearby.

I hear nothing.

I open the bathroom door and creep out, cautiously staring at the door, listening close. Before I get close enough to the door to open it, I see Slate’s shadow move under the door, and my heart skips a beat. I sprint back into the bathroom, unprepared to experience this same series of events all over again.

Slate must have heard me approaching, because the pounding begins again, this time more intense, truer to his real emotions. His fist on the door is almost rhythmic, like he’s trying to hypnotize me into coming out of the room while I visualize him hitting me in the head. It sounds almost pathological.

Now is my only chance.

I slip back over to the window and unlock it, and to my chagrin, the windows in Slate’s mansion are original to the building, meaning they are stuck or falling apart in some places. I press the window upwards with my full strength, and I can’t even feel it starting to come loose.

He’ll be getting tired of the games now.

I need an alternate escape.

With only one window in the bathroom, I have no choice but to go back out to the bedroom where he can hear my every move through the door. I carefully slip through the door and into the bedroom where two windows lie on either side of the bed. I try to knock the first one loose, but it’s too loud. I know Slate will be able to hear if one of these goddamn old windows scrapes along its tracks, so I need to move very, very slowly.

“You’re starting to make me angry, Mia,” Slate says. His voice sounds so much closer than he is, like he’s projecting his voice through the door. “It’s starting to feel like you’re hiding something from me. You know I wouldn’t appreciate that if that were the case.”

I hate his tone right now. He sounds just like a patronizing father figure, which I suppose he has the possibility to become now thanks to our stupid mistake. I would hate that for our child, having to endure a father who would talk down to them. Of course, the mafia aspect doesn’t help either.

Maybe if I respond, I can keep him occupied with a verbal fight as well as covering up the sound of the window opening.

“What the fuck could I possibly be hiding from you?” I shout, perhaps louder than I need to as I start to rattle the lock on the window. “You just beat a man nearly to death in front of me. It’s within my rights to be a little bit freaked out.”

The window starts to come loose bit by bit, more easily than the one in the bathroom had. The sound of my voice seems to be carrying well enough that he can’t hear the window opening. “Mia, you know Eli was giving me problems. You’re a very intuitive woman, I know you could see him undermining me,” he explains.

I could scream from the way he’s so obsessed with lording his power over people.

“I just need to make sure everything is okay, Mia, you’re really scaring me,” he continues, almost forgetting entirely that I am fearful because of something he did to someone else. His consolation act is very unconvincing.

“No, nothing is okay. You promised you wouldn’t ever hurt someone else in front of me like that. You fucking promised,” I shout, adding layer after layer of theatrics and hysteria as I get closer to escaping. The window finally opens, and I’m able to slide it up just enough to escape.

“Mia, you know I had to show you what you were getting into before you joined me. Was I supposed to throw you in blind?” he shouts back.

I think he’s started yelling something else, but I’m finally out the window on the ledge, inching my way down toward the fire escape.

My body is vibrating. I’m so scared of falling that I need to will myself each step closer until I’m finally there. I steady myself, making sure to not fuck up my plan at the very last minute, and I descend.

The back wing of the mansion isn’t maintained quite as well as the front, and there is a lot of overgrowth and brush along the wall that catches on my clothes and hair as I step down the ladder. I can hear Slate shouting through the door again, this time louder, but I’m far enough away that I can’t hear him. All I need to do is get to my car, and…

Goddamn it.

My keys.

I’ll have to sneak back into the front of the house by my office and grab them. I’m so angry at myself for missing this detail that I could bash my brains out on the stone walls of the mansion. So stupid.

I creep around the front of the building where I find Eli lying partially unconscious. He looks up at me, looking but not seeing as he stares through me. His eyes are bloody and bruised, blood has dried along the corners of his mouth and nose. He looks fucking terrifying.

With some regret, I leave Eli and sprint to the front door, letting myself in as quietly as I can. My office is right off the foyer, so if I can just sneak in without Slate hearing, I’ll be able to pull this off.

“You might want to rethink some of your choices,” Slate shouts into his bedroom door at nobody. He must not have heard me come in.

I find my keys in my coat pocket, choosing to take only my keys, phone, and wallet from my belongings. I run out the door, taking care to not slam it behind me in my haste. I have no doubt that he could easily chase me down and reprimand me on the front lawn, right next to Eli.

When I reach my car, I barely touch the front seat before I’m speeding out of the driveway. Part of me is washed over with relief that I’ve escaped him. As soon as I remember why, though, I’m sick all over again.