— I want a divorce. — Repeat that, the husband demands ominously, giving me a chance to correct myself. — I don’t love you, Bogdan. Let me go! — Never. Do you hear me? — His low voice gains power with every word. — You’ll never get a divorce. — But why? You have no right to treat me this way! — Because you’re mine, Tasha. Only mine. I try to object, but his finger quickly covers my mouth. — And if you want to run away, know this… I’ll drag you out from under the ground.