Russia Moscow.
In a cold, dark room, gagged and hurt, I fight and resist. I face the hurricane that shakes me, feeling even more vulnerable because I don't know my captor's intentions.
I wrap myself in a thin quilt, trying to sleep despite the uncertainty. The mist is heavy, heavier than my eyelids that are reluctant to close. The silence is desolating, it crushes me and steals my breath. The air escapes and fears bare my soul, without a barrier or wall to protect me from danger.
Nothing keeps me from extinction.
Tears flow eagerly, the thickness of sadness floods my being. I don't think I can escape death. The last thing I remember was being hit violently, leaving me unconscious. Every muscle aches, I feel an indescribable pain that spreads through my back and squeezes my heart.
I'm starving, I only remember putting crumbs in my stomach in the last few weeks, which is not enough to sustain me.
I cry, the spasms do not stop, the intensity of the sensation is overwhelming, it burns cruelly. My throat hurts, the pressure overwhelms me, and I can't move because of my weakness.
I feel helpless in my fight.
I hear loud footsteps, my heart pounds. They sound like drums in my ears. I curl up into a fetal position, clinging to the quilt, trying to hide. But I know I can't escape, my limbs are weak and I don't have the strength to face it.
The sharp sound of the door announces the arrival of my captor. I clench my teeth tightly.
"Luna Miller," he pronounces my name in an icy tone, his deep voice generating an unpleasant sensation. I can sense her malicious intentions that saturate the atmosphere. Luna... I know you're not asleep, get up, it's an order.
He's abrupt, I wasn't expecting subtlety from him. But only one thing stops me, my weakness. I can't meet his demand.
I groan as the room suddenly lights up. The light strongly impacts my eyes. The man removes the gag and for the first time I can inspect his face. He is not the Italian that had me captive, he is another dark"looking guy, although I find his attractiveness captivating.
He approaches me on his haunches, his features taking my breath away. Her face is a mix of dominance, possession and danger, and a spark of desire is born inside me. Despite his behavior, I must admit that he is attractive. But I must be delusional, I can't let myself think about that. The reality is that I am hurt and captive.
"Do you know why you are here? "She questions, firmly grabbing my chin.
I don't say anything, I don't know who I am anymore. So many events have confused my identity, I even doubt my origin. I'm going crazy trying to find answers.
Everything seems absurd.
I can't believe my father had anything to do with this. He is not involved in dirty business, he is an upright and fair person. I can't find reasons that link him to this situation.
So I stay silent.
"No, you don't know. "You are in my hands, beautiful American," she says in a cold voice, her tone revealing her perverse intentions. Luna, I know you're not asleep, get up, it's an order.
Damned bastard!
Furious, I spit in his face.
"Go to hell, idiot! "I exclaim so loudly that I barely recognize my own voice. My throat burns.
His expression hardens and he hits me hard, making my head spin. Tears build violently, and the left side of my face burns. Another blow that destroys me a little more.
My body and my spirit become weak.
I cover my face, holding back the sobs that escape my trembling lips. Its violence destroys me on the outside, but deep inside, I want to hold on to a strength that still shines in the midst of the storm.
I want to believe that these obstacles make me stronger, although at this moment I only feel the pain that embraces me and plunges me into despair.
I don't utter a single word, my vocal cords have gone silent, and my eyes express fury, in a foolish attempt to claim his mistreatment, I burn him. Suddenly his thumb approaches, I stare at him, it's a wobbly, biting hold. Then I squeeze my eyelids as I feel his infernal touch, the cunning of his fingers raises a maelstrom that freezes.
He leans towards me and, just inches from my face, whispers venomously.
I seek mercy, groping and silently, begging and begging, I fervently wish for mercy on me.
The metallic taste of blood is the aftertaste that runs through my mouth, I also feel the scarlet liquid that oozes from my skin, right where he has placed his touch. The man with the strange accent, apparently Russian, removes his fingers from him, I open my eyes and watch him licking his fingers in such a perverse way that it makes me tremble from head to toe. Then he slides a lunatic smile, he is not a sane being, what he just did is sick.
I stop breathing when he brings his face closer to mine, he never stops smiling, I'm centimeters away from a psychopath and I can only think about the fateful thing.
"You are facing the wolf, welcome to Russia, Luna Miller"his mouth whispers with venom, I am taken aback by his words. She notices my surprise and smiles brighter. Welcome to the Russian mafia, Lunita.
My blood boils, the fact that he calls me that causes a volcano of fury and sadness, it is a merciless mixture. Only dad usually calls me that way. Dad… he must be worried, I miss him so much. I carry the count of days captive in my mind. Fifteen days being a prisoner seems like an abysmal eternity.
Now I have fallen into other hands but the same evil direction, disgusting intentions and I am still lost in confusion.
"W"why? "I dare to question with a torn voice.
He, who calls himself the wolf, stares into mine, devouring me.
"Sometimes you have to pay for someone else's mistake," he says, his pounding breath destabilizing me.
What he said is ridiculous, unfair no matter how you look at it. I can't be innocent and pay for other people's troubles. The unknowns return, in that case, what errors is he talking about? who?
My lips hate the twisted and deceitful words that only make me hate him. Yes, he's surely trying to wrap me up in a fallacy. He is a madman. I suddenly sob, he said something about the mafia, which worsens my situation there.
He's not just any crazy guy, he's the worst. Fear binds me, turns me to ashes.
"What do you want of me? "I weigh low, my heartbeat flies under his malicious gaze.
"You ask yourself, what do I want from you? "She," she repeats, I resist the urge to roll my eyes, her accent is so impertinent. You should be prostrate before me, after all I have saved you from our enemies. So don't be ungrateful.
What the hell does this idiot think he is?
"You're not God, you idiot," I say, shooting him hatred.
I shouldn't have told him that, in response he squeezes my face so hard that I moan in pain. Forced to look into her eyes, her gaze burns me. The rage that she disperses with abandon is ice, and also borders on a destructive fire.
He hurts me, he treats me in a vile way, he is the bad guy, a kidnapper, a murderer, on top of that a gangster, yet why do I keep thinking about his shocking physique?
"I bet you don't want to be prey, if that's your case, don't provoke me. You can't imagine the thousand ways I can think of how you can satisfy my appetite, Luna," she warns with notable lasciviousness in her eyes, in the cheeky tone of her voice.
"Don't you dare," I face him, trying to retreat, he prevents me by getting up in an unexpected movement.
His bold hands are on my waist, he keeps me upright, I honestly couldn't resist on my own. The energy and strength in me are scarce. But her grip is rough and only hurts me more. She frees her hand and runs it over my injured cheek, seeming to study the blow. Unable to bear her invasion, I avoid the grayish greens of her that never stop reading me.
"Your insolence has earned it, but I'm not that evil, I'll have a doctor check you out," he declares as if he were truly benevolent. Then he grimaces, pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. You stink, you're going to need a shower.
That?
I open my eyes wide.
There's no way he's going to do it.