"Yes, it is, Aleksander," I admit.
I do not move away from the haze that he causes so soon and deep in me. I don't even understand why it is generated, it's annoying, I feel sick and crazy looking at it like this.
After a while I get hungry, I prefer not to tell him, his mood is so indecipherable and unstable that I am afraid to ask if we are going to eat or not.
It is he, I suppose hungry too, who brings up the matter.
We ended up going to an Italian restaurant, one of the most famous in the city. It is a very large Italian restaurant, with a terrace, beautiful decoration, where you can still have lunch, dinner or just have a drink. Italian cuisine is delicious. I don't resist. The food is typical of a pizzeria (pastas, pizzas), however they also have more refined dishes or with some elegant touches, for example a Spanish gazpacho, which we obviously tried.
The waiter who served us not only brought that, our order consisted of: pasta, gazpachos, lasagna, meat with cheese and potatoes and Caesar salad. Everything was exquisite. The signature drink is a red Russian beer on tap, I don't order one for myself, I don't usually drink alcohol, so I drink juice.
Apparently everything is normal. Eating in an attractive restaurant, treating myself, enjoying the view, the relaxed and pleasant atmosphere. But the perfection that encompasses the moment will disappear at any moment, I will once again be the same prisoner in a luxury room that has witnessed my darkest days. The person responsible is in front, wiping his corner with the napkin, placing his eyes on me, the empire that oppresses me.
He gestures to the man in uniform, in question the waiter approaches us. Aleksander leaves him the tip on the table, he collects it. Then he cancels the account and we get out of there.
It's time to go back, and I don't want to. Outside I stay one step behind him, the idea of running with all my strength crosses my mind, getting lost among the sea of people in the city, the terror of failing, of it being in vain and of looking for a solution. Huge problem stops me.
The wolf turns and beckons to me, he wants me by his side, making sure that I won't escape, that he won't have a single chance to free myself. With just a glance, he has sentenced him.
I am once again tied to his strong arm, a mandatory attachment that adds misery and subtracts freedom.
"Not even if it happens to you, Lunita," he whispers, knowing that he had intentions of fleeing.
Moron.
"Will we go back home? "I ask subdued.
"Yes, hasn't it been enough? You should be grateful, you are privileged, believe me.
Privilege? This cannot be considered that way. He's an idiot. But it is true that this is unconventional. It's not what a kidnapper normally does, and what he does is the strangest thing knowing how dangerous he is.
He opens the car door for me, he doesn't pretend to be a gentleman just to make sure I get into the sports car. I get in, it's not like I'm going to run away at this point. While he walks around the car, I look at the gun on the dashboard, maybe it is loaded. I shake my head, dismissing the intention. I've already evaluated what could happen if I point that gun at him. I won't get anything.
I put on my seat belt, he does the same. We immediately set off. A melody plays on the radio, the song fills the space that we have condemned to silence on his part and mine. We don't talk, the whole way passes silently. A sporadic, surprising and comforting outing in the midst of this storm is now part of the past.
Those damn gates that slide crumble the broken illusion, miles from the city I fall back into the same prison. Once again I will be captive, once again I will say goodbye to a lot of natural light. I get out of the car, discouraged.
He catches up to me, walks alongside me, without him looking I roll my eyes. When I enter the mansion, still downstairs, I run into an unknown face. Because of his jovial nature and resemblance, I think he is Aleksander's brother. He looks at me trying to figure out who the hell I am, the boy is handsome, a blonde with blue eyes, I dare say his genes are maternal. He is tall and thin, you can tell that he is in the crucial stage of development, I confirm this by remembering that Alena told me about him, that he is seventeen years old, like Grace.
"*Kto ty?"he asks a question, I don't understand it.
"*Chto ty zdes' delayesh'? " asks the older of the two Russians, behind me, taking me by the shoulders in a possessive manner ". *Ona drug, por russki ne govorit.
I'm still in the air, lost in a labyrinth of words.
"Oh, I understand. Hello, my name is Dominic," she says, greeting in my language.
He doesn't shake my hand, but he gives me a sweet smile. I already realize that she is far from being like the wolf.
"Dominic, what a nice name, I'm Luna.
"Moon? "he asks surprised, I nod nervously, what's so funny about my name? ". He is so pretty and tender, just like you.
A third clears his throat.
"Enough, Luna is tired, isn't she? "She stands in front, setting a clear limit for her brother.
"Yes, a pleasure Dominic, with permission.
Alena comes out to meet me and guards me to the room. On the way up I see each other again, they both talk. Alena gives me a thumbs up for my outfit. She assures me that it fits me perfectly.
So what?
"How has everything gone? "he wants to know.
"Well, it wasn't bad.
He grimaces, sighs.
"I'm glad, from what I've seen you already know Dominic," he continues.
Sometimes I don't understand her, one day she is taciturn, the next she wants to extend the conversation. I do not want to talk.
I just shake my head.
"Leave me alone," I ask, going into the room.
Understand, because it doesn't even come in. I only listen as she locks the door and leaves.
I take off all my clothes, go to the bathroom and take a shower. Like in Cinderella, the magic is over, I'm back to being the same fallen bird. After taking a bath I go to bed, I don't intend to fall asleep, and it happens. Without realizing it I surrender to rest.