Traitors Daughter Ch 05

Hello All,

3rd attempt, hope it's approved. This chapter should not be read without reading the previous 4 due to several references to the past....and I will apologize now, I didn't have an editor until chapter 3.

I have an amazing brilliant editor now !!! Endless gratitude!!! Having some issues with formatting so when you see these < > that's inner monologue/thoughts or a memory.

Sorry for the delay, life happens. I hope you enjoy TD5 and thank you for reading.

-Tatum

******

"Anton, it doesn't matter. I love him. Why can't you just accept it?" Helen tried to twist and jerk out of Anton's tightening grip on her shoulders. "Let me go! I do not love you and never will. You can't buy me or convince me that you have ever been genuine. Look how you treated all the girls at school, look at what you want to do to your friend." His fingers dug into her exposed shoulders constricting with her every breath...

fucking snake

.

"Those were just college hook-ups. Helen, I love you and I always have." Helen could hear his anger simmering just below the surface of his condescending tone. She knew he was lying. Anton was too obsessed with himself to care for anyone else. He had always been the perpetual smooth talker, slithering into their circle of friends and she never understood why Leo adored him, always buying into his false enthusiasm, never a cloudy day with Anton.

Things were changing, Helen had noticed immediately after graduation that Anton was turning into something toxic, his words poison and his venomous actions burned and scarred anyone in his tracks. What started as minor financial advising for Leo and his connections had now turned into an entry-level seat at the Bratva table. Anton's ego and power grew with rapid escalation and his bogus phony kindness and warmth shedding away exposing his deceitful narcissistic true nature. His negative attributes only enhanced as the years passed; now at 27 he was completely controlling and cruel.

Anton smiled as if he had a million secrets and Helen knew a potent violent strike was coming, "He's a professor and owns a farm. You can't be serious Helen? Little naïve Helen. I worry for you, honestly I do. What kind of life will you have with Drew? I will be able to give you anything you want." It was the same things he had been spewing to their group of friends for the past few years, trying to convince them that Drew was below their standards, as if his association would lower their status. It was a ploy to get Helen to leave him but it would never work. They all loved Drew. He was kind, compassionate, loyal and would do anything for his friends. He didn't desire the luxuries that were attached to Leo and Anton's lifestyle. Drew liked researching, teaching and solving problems, the investigative aspect of searching for solutions and his middle class upbringing kept him grounded and centered.

After Helen's parents were killed in a tragic car accident during her freshman year of college, Drew had held her while she shattered into a million pieces holding each shard, particle and fragment as if they were priceless. Day after day he helped put her back together until the cracks were sealed and impenetrable. The intensity of their devotion to each other was adored and embraced by their small group of friends...except for Anton. He wanted her the moment he saw her, not just for her beauty and spark but also because of the way she looked at Drew; a look of unconditional love and adoration, an endless gratitude.

"I only want him." Anton cringed at the honesty and sincerity in Helen's voice. He knew her words were true yet he still believed that she would eventually fall in love with him, worship the ground he walked on, and never think of Drew again.

"Now listen young lady." The deep harsh accented voice coming from behind her caused Helen to wince in realization, she wasn't going anywhere. "You will marry Anton Winters because he demands it and because if you don't Drew will be dead by morning." A gut-wrenching sob tore from Helen's chest as the truth of the crony's words hit home, chipping away and spreading new cracks within her. Her body tried to convulse forward but Anton still held her shoulders and watched as the pained expression on her face morphed into something between agony and despair.

"You could do that Anton? You could kill your friend? How could you even think about killing him?" Helen's words were spoken as if she was running out of breath, running out of time, running from him and running out of options.

"Anyone in my way is forfeit." That moment and those words confirmed what Helen suspected,

he knows

. Anton had found out about her and Drew's plans to elope in a private ceremony in a few weeks. That is why he dragged her to this hotel, for the use of the open courtyard, botanical gardens and subtle fountains. Anton opened a long white box with gold trim and pulled out her simple wedding dress, "I had this picked up from your apartment this morning. Go and put it on Helen."

She burst into sobs and dry heaves...

Drew, Drew, Drew

. She knew they would kill him; Anton and his new cohorts had come up quick and relentlessly. Helen hated herself for not pulling away years ago. The idea of Drew no longer existing in this world killed her and she could no longer hold back the vomit, throwing up into the hotel ice bucket.

They were married moments later with only Anton's family and a few of their friends in attendance. The only sympathy coming from Leo, "I'm sorry Helen. I tried to talk him out of this but he refuses to listen and doesn't care about what any of us say. He's growing more powerful every day and get what he wants and he has always wanted you." It was the truth and Helen knew it. She had always tried to keep a distance from Anton, always turning away his advances.

A young boy raised his arms to Leo pleading to be picked up and Helen's eyes pooled with new tears at the thought of the family she would never have with Drew. Dmitry was Leo's world and had been the center of his universe for the last 6 years. Another sharp bite of anguish intertwined with Helen's already broken state...

Drew would have made an amazing father

.

"I promise you, I will make sure Drew is safe. I won't let anything happen to him and I will tell him of the choice you had to make. He will understand. I'm sorry Helen, this is all my fault." Leo would always blame himself for introducing Anton to their friends but he would regret allowing him to meet his connections even more.

"I will never love him Leo."

"I know Helen."

"I will never survive him."

"Don't say that. Just don't make things hard on yourself little Helz on Wheels." Leo tried for a smirk hoping she might smile at the use of her nickname but Helen just stood arms wrapped around her stomach...defeated.

"Please explain to Drew that I did not have a choice." The sobs began again.

"I will."

Traitor's Daughter Chapter 5

Alex stared at the ceiling as her mind steadily pushed through the haze and fog of her current situation...again; pain medication wearing off and reality creeping back in. She had painted a thousand different murals for the bare, white, clinical and cold ceiling but they would never come to fruition. Every morning she stared at this same blank canvas attempting to understand how her mind allowed her to believe the Russian god from the coffee shop was not Dmitry.

Alex couldn't comprehend why her thoughts decided to warp Dmitry's need to find her into something storybook or something that could save her from the constant barrage of loneliness.

Yeah, a real Nicholas Sparks novel in the making

.

It's not like she truly believed in happily ever after, her parent's marriage was a prime example of how it most likely never happens. Alex knew now that anything she ever fantasized about regarding Dmitry's plans were false and her mind's way of coping with the inevitable. The instant his fist connected with her mouth Alex knew she had romanticized his intentions and what her future would really be like. As if an artificial intelligence formed in her brain, planting ideas until they rooted so deep that she could not weed them out. But this was not Inception, no Italian singer and no "kick" to pull her out of this nightmare.

Her thought process had been her best defense but the years of hiding and constant looking over her shoulder had taken a toll on her psyche. Alex's mind wanted a rest, just wanted to be calm and not over think each step, move and decision. Her life had been a relentless game of chess, her Pons gone, queen dead and no knight to rescue her.

As soon as she turned 18 she bailed form the states and moved to Scotland, escaping her father's name, leaving behind the families that never wanted her and the distant relatives that could never claim her. Alex just wanted a normal life, no longer in hiding but still a little guarded.

Brilliant idea. Hiding out in the open

.

Alex's afternoon naps were becoming a constant occurrence due to the high dose Vascak had prescribed her and every time she woke she found herself back in pajamas or just in a t-shirt and panties. The idea of Dmitry undressing her caused new forms of anxiety and embarrassment to the point she started begging him not to make her take the pills...never arguing just pleading. Alex didn't like waking up not knowing what happened while she was sedated especially on the afternoons when she woke with sweat dampened hair and sore muscles. Nothing was worse than when she woke and used the restroom only to discover her pubic hair had been removed and vomited into the sink because she was mid-wipe...a mild nervous breakdown followed. Strange that Dmitry was almost kind to her that day...

fucker!

.

Lying in bed replaying their every interaction only made her angry with herself for believing her situation would be anything other than what it truly was...abuse, slavery, and unending suffering. She wanted to destroy any romantic ideas she ever had, delete every Hannah Howell book she ever downloaded, erase all romantic comedies she had seen and rewrite all the bullshit fairytales.

Fuck the Murrays!

Lloyd Dobler is a liar!

Eat a dick Cinderella!

You left her in the fucking cave English Patient!

"You jump, I jump right?" A couple of assholes.

I hope those candles burn your house down Jake Ryan!

Every day she was starting to hate Dmitry more and more. At first she tried excusing his behavior because of the trauma he had to endure, blaming her father for Dmitry's sins, convincing herself that he couldn't help himself. It was all bullshit, everything is a choice and he chose to hit, rape and lock her away from the rest of the world. At 19 Alex's life was already ending...at least that's how it felt.

She had been following all Dmitry's instructions and rules; sitting on the floor next to him, speaking when spoken too or if asked a question and behaving accordingly.

And no stabbing

. Kicking off the covers in a fitting and just tantrum Alex stood from the bed and headed to her small en suite. Appraising her healing injuries in the bathroom mirror only incensed and aggravated her anger. The bruises had faded leaving only a hint of an altercation. The swelling was gone and the discoloration under her eye and around her mouth was barely noticeable, stitches had dissolved and it no longer hurt to move her lips.

Throwing her hair into a messy bun she caught a glimpse of her tattoo, the black ink reminding her of her stupidity and naïveté.

Don't they say a relationship is doomed if you get a name tattooed? This was fucked at jump street. What relationship?

. Frowning down at her wrist and wishing she could rub the ink off was new to Alex. She had always considered it a tribute or reminder that someone cared...but no one did.

Throwing on clothes that she was pretty sure were clean Alex headed out of her room to confront her demon in his study. They had made a deal and she was hoping he would honor it.

Doubt it

.

*****

Dmitry had been held hostage at his desk since Alex's records arrived at 7am that morning, only taking breaks to prepare Alex's meals and make her take her medications. He wasn't surprised by the amount of information his team was able to gather. It was almost as if Nadja hadn't even tried to locate Alex or her records. He had combed through each document and photo memorizing her history, previous life before and after she became Lexi Evans. Dmitry liked placing the pictures in rows across his desk, a timeline of her milestones, lost teeth, haircuts, birthday candles and the few growth spurts she had.

Her medical records were standard Well Child Physicals and multiple emergency room visits: each bruise and injury a lengthy explanation and all records tagged with the same opening statement, "patient accompanied by father." One record stood out amongst them all, it was her birthday and she had spent it in the ER for a "concussion with loss of consciousness."

Her fucking birthday!

Dmitry had known Helen to be a protective and supportive mother so he was troubled by her emergency room absences, adding to his assumptions regarding Alex's abusive childhood.

Child Protective Services had been called on multiple occasions and it was always noted in her medical record, yet there was never a follow up investigation. But Anton, Helen and Alex were in several photos under plaques with elegant intricate engravings that read, Donated by the Winters Family or Funded by the Winters Family; large research grants, hospital improvements, new medical equipment. Anton had paid for staff silence and Alex never stood a chance.

The Winters were always dressed immaculately in each event photo. Helen in a Channel suit, Alex in a prim dress, Anton in Prada...they were picturesque luxury. Anton grinning smugly while Helen and Alex wore their ever-present vacant expressions; slight smiles and sad eyes.

Dmitry lingered on several pictures from Alex's childhood; one in particular kept his attention, First Day Second Grade. Alex was wearing a mint green skirt, pink and white polka dot flats and a t-shirt with a strawberry rowing a boat, Have a Berry Nice Day. She held a white insulated lunchbox with large red letters, Human Organ Transplant, as she smiled for the camera. Dmitry's lips twitched.

Always the little geek

.

His chest tightened as he stared at the pint-sized girl, the innocent girl that grew up in torment to only end up in his massive brutal hands. The more photos the more real she became, a living human being not just atoms and cells bound together to form an unending obsession...a girl...Alex.

My Alex

.

Dmitry's head throbbed as images of a terrified and bleeding Alex restrained in his Dark Room ambushed his mind. His eardrums flinched and tried to cower recalling her muffled screams as he raped and abused her, his large palm striking her face several times causing the blood from her lip to spray and splatter across her face and chest. Dmitry crushed the picture in his hand as his stomach roiled with nausea and anger...at himself.

Disgusted at being so cruel to another human being...a human being who had grown up in loneliness and a form of suffering a bit too similar to his own. Revulsion and horror burned in his chest, a pain he knew he deserved for destroying an innocence that he hadn't seen since before he was placed in the boys group home.

Burying his hands in his hair he wanted to bash his own head into a wall, loathing and abhorrence for the erection forming in his pants, a sickening but involuntary reaction from the memory of taking Alex so violently. Fuck! Dmitry's sadistic needs and desires never bothered him before because he was always with like-minded partners, women who needed pain meshed and woven within pleasure wrapped in absolute control. But now it was starting to control him, she was crippling him. Alex's presence evoked an evolution in his sexual appetite and cravings and now that he had a taste, he could never give her up. There was no going back and he hated himself for it; hating the assaultive similarities between his and Anton's violence.

Dmitry had ravaged women before, fucking some of them harder than he should but he had never forced or raped a woman...

a 19 year old pixie sized girl

. Bloodying Alex's face was not the reason his swollen cock flexed against his pants but the vision of her completely forced only confirming his mind and body's compulsion and need for brutality in his sex. But he knew it was wrong to have raped her.

Rape is about power and Dmitry knows it but he also knows that he is already a very powerful man in his professional and social relationships. He is content with his influence and effectiveness, never craving more power, never needed to. Dmitry hadn't wanted to overpower Alex, he just wanted to take her over and over again, to own her, to inflict pain upon her...to hurt Anton's daughter.

Yes, he had to conjure the rage needed to rape and hit her the first night but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he didn't need it, that's just how he wanted to be with Alex...violently inside her. Dmitry wanted to chase her through a dark dangerous forest, drag her to a dungeon as she fought and struggled, pull her into a seedy alley while she kicked and screamed. Not just because of her father's sins but because that was his immediate physical and instinctual reaction to her every time he saw her working in the coffee shop, walking home, slumped over and bleeding in his SUV, standing on unsure feet wielding a knife in her hand, washing her body in the shower, reading a book, sleeping, blinking...

fucking breathing

.

The monster within growled and fought to get free the first time he laid eyes on Alex standing at the counter with her apron on. The monster wanted to hide under her bed and in her closet, wanted to watch her turn on her bedside lamp because she thought she heard noise, watch her tremble in fear as the hair stood up on the back of her neck realizing she was no longer alone in her room.

Dmitry's fierce attraction to Alex became a chronic condition, no symptoms to see it coming, no antibiotics to resist the growing infection within him, no antidote, no cure, an unstoppable virus...a fucking kryptonite. The weakness Alex created spread inside him, oozing through his veins, clogging his arteries and sticking to his organs, leaving deposits on his bones, pissing him off and only adding to the constant anger he felt towards her and Anton. The compound and fusion of revenge, hate and eternal craving was the perfect catalyst easily igniting Dmitry's savagery. He hated how these memories made him hard but he loved the intensity of his erection, a duality that can never coexist.

Or can it? The shower. You can breathe when you come

.

Alex is inexperienced. Could he train her to only know and need what he desires, what he hungers for? A full on creation? A sexual puppet?

No it's sick!.....But I would fuck that sex puppet. Damnit!

.

Confusing him even more was the fact that he could already feel himself aching to love and care for her. Dmitry envisioned thanking her for allowing him to be himself and apologizing but also praising her for handling the pain for him, suffering for him... because Dmitry could never change or return to having willing slaves. He only wanted Alex now and forever and not just as his slave or revenge fuck. Yes, he wanted to spend days and nights inside her but he also wanted to rub her tummy as it swelled with his child. He wanted to give her his last name and grow old touching and loving her. Dmitry tried to ignore these thoughts and feelings because he knew they were an impossibility. He had fucked up and still could not turn off his body's natural reaction to her.