The Romanov's Pursuit Read Online Free Page A

Tee stuffed the child in her arms and insisted she feed it. She shoved the baby away. “No!” she yelled vehemently.
    The older woman shook her head and placed the baby in a makeshift cradle beside the new mother’s cot. Later when she was alone in her cabin wit h just herself and the baby, she couldn’t bring herself to look at the child. What if it looked like the man whom she hated most? She could still feel the things he did to her to make that unholy bundle lying next to her.
    Bile rose in her throat as she remembered those fat sausage-like fingers wrapped around her neck and large stomach pressed against her as he rutted inside of her. It had hurt, not as much as actually giving birth, but it generated the type of pain of the likes she’d never forget. And there hadn’t been a thing she could do about it, after all, he was the one who owned her, the one she called Master. She hated everything about him, how he pretended to care about the workers as if he were some benevolent shepherd watching over his flock. She hated how he’d walk around quoting the Bible and using scripture in order to brainwash everyone into believing that the only way they’d get into heaven would be absolute obedience an d bending to his will. What she absolutely despised about him was how he presented himself as some man-God and judged others for their misdeeds while he brutalized, tortured and sometimes maimed people he didn’t even deem as human.
    From an early age , she was good at reading people. Her mother had once told her that she was too smart for her own good. Perhaps it was why she mostly kept to herself because she could always see right through the agendas of others. Master Randolph was no different. He was a disgusting pig who had a penchant for doing horrific things to little girls who had barely gotten their first blood. Mothers often hid their daughters behind them whenever he came around, but there had been no one to protect her on the day he spied her and decided she was just right to participate in his sick games. The worst part was pretending to like what he did to her or else he’d hurt her even more.
    Sometimes he’d choke her and that was the kindest of his acts. Other times, he’d hit her with balled fists if she protested. Once, he’d hit t he side of her face so hard, she had had a headache for a week straight. She was nearly sixteen herself, and her only consolation in dealing with him was the hope that he’d eventually get tired of her as he had with the other girls who aged out of his sick obsession with them.
    He gave her treats, extra rations, and clothing that was better suited for a lady of leisure than someone in her position. Most of those gifts she gave away. She’d even been given her own cabin, displacing other slaves and forcing them to share already crowded spaces. It didn’t matter that she didn’t ask for Master’s unwanted attention or his gifts, but the other workers resented her all the same. Sometimes the other women would stay for a few nights so that the new mother could get some rest, but there were no such offers of aid for her . Instead , she lay on her cot, spent, and feeling no connection to the child she’d just birthed.
    She tossed and turned trying to rest, but her body still ached from labor. When the weak cries of the child filled the cabin, she did her best to ignore them. She wanted nothing to do with that thing. But the baby would not be ignored. Her wails became stronger, furious as if to announce to the world that she was there.
    With a frustrated groan, she managed to roll o f f her cot and stagger to her feet. She’d make the child shut up even if she had to cover its mouth. When she made her way to the cradle, she yelled. “Shut up!”
    As if the baby understood her, she stopped. She opened her little mouth to reveal toothless gums. It looked very much like a smile, even though her limited knowledge of babies told her that it was far too early for a newborn to