Alina
I stared at the man standing in front of me, my body shaking with indescribable fear. When he pulled me from under the bed, I didn't notice his face. I was too scared to look at him.But when he ordered me to look up, I was surprised. He took my breath away. For a minute, I stopped thinking that he was about to shoot me. I stopped thinking that I was supposed to run away.
All I could do was stare into the bluish-steel eyes that reminded me of the midwinter sky.
When he took a step toward me, my heart stuttered. His steps were powerful and hard. He moved confidently. I tried to take a step back, but he stopped me with his gun.
His presence was one of a leader. A dangerous leader. The air around him felt frigid.
As he came to a stop in front of me, our chests almost touching, my body trembled both in fear and in anticipation. I should have been screaming and running, but something about him caused me to remain immobile.His touch felt electric. My body hummed in response and I no longer felt cold. His warm hand caressed my cheek and I wanted to rub against his palm like a kitten craving attention.
I realized how big he was. Compared to my small size, he was gigantic. My head only came to the middle of his wide, muscled chest. I felt fragile and small next to him.
But for some unknown reason, my body was warming up in his presence. Even though fear coursed through my body, I didn't mind him being near me.
I hated when Alberto was near me. My skin was always crawling in disgust and fear, but with this strange man, I only felt comfort. Even with his gun pointing at me, I felt oddly safe.
But that changed when his face turned hard and then angry. I jumped in surprise as he took a sudden step back. His whole body tightened and he pointed the gun back at me. My eyes widened and my heart beat faster.
Was it all a game? Did he act like he was softening up to me, just to calm me down so he could shoot me?
Tears fell down my dirty, bruised cheeks.
His eyes were trained on my tears. His gaze followed the drops. When they reached my chin, I saw him smile. His mouth quirked up to the side, but his smile looked dangerously malicious.
Oh God. This man was going to kill me.
"Who the fuck are you and why are you here?" he growled deeply, his voice low but the tone dangerous and angry. I knew that tone.
Alberto used it when he was about to kill someone. He used it on me too, whenever he took me against my will…every single night.
I shivered in terror, my distress likely evident on my face and the way I was trembling. I felt my pulse beating in my ears, blocking out all other sounds except my gasping breath.
I felt myself growing colder. His hard eyes were penetrating mine and I had to lock my knees together to stop myself from taking a step backward. I knew if I moved, he would shoot me.
He took several steps backward, the gun still pointed at me as he waited for my answer. When he reached the couch, he sat down and crossed his right foot over his left knee. The gun was still pointed at my chest.
"I…I am…my…" I stuttered, finding it hard to talk. Alberto and my father had many enemies. What if he was one of them?
"I won't repeat myself, so you better start talking. You have thirty seconds," the man said. He was losing patience. It was evident in the way his face twisted angrily with each word.
"Alina. My name is Alina," I said in a rush, my voice raspy.
"Alina," he whispered, my name rolling off his tongue as if the word itself had been laced with molasses. His voice was deep and it vibrated throughout my body.
"Alina," he said again. I hated to admit it, but I liked how my name sounded when it came from him. I liked how he said it, almost gently.
Get yourself together, Alina. This man is about to shoot you. Stupid, Alina. Stupid. Focus.
"What is your last name, Alina? And why are you here?" he asked, this time slowly as he continued to stare at me.
I sucked in a deep breath, trying to figure out how much I should tell him. His gaze never left mine, and when I didn't answer quickly enough, he sat forward angrily.
"Now, Alina. You are very lucky that I am being patient. But I won't ask again."
I nodded, but he continued.
"Let me introduce myself. I'm sure you've heard my name. Alex Ivanshov," the man stated, his tone low.
My body froze. I stared at the man sitting in front of me, speechless, as my body started to go numb. No. It couldn't be.
My heart drummed in alarm as I stared into his unmoving, cold eyes. Oh God. Please, no. It couldn't be him.
"Does it ring a bell?" he asked.
My stomach twisted painfully and my vision blurred. I felt myself stumbling forward. Quickly, I righted myself before my face met the floor.
Oh, it definitely rang a bell. Dread and horror filled me. I thought I ran away from dangerous men, but this man sitting in front of me was more dangerous than any of them. He was feared by all.
But most importantly, I was trapped because I was his biggest enemy. My family was his biggest enemy. The Italians. The Abandonato.
The Russians and the Italians had been enemies for so many decades. But the Ivanshov and Abandonato, their enmity ran deep.
And I was standing in front of the Boss, who would kill me mercilessly if he found out that I was an Abandonato.
I stared into Alex's eyes. I ran from a deadly man, and now I was awaiting my fate in front of another. A deadlier and more dangerous one.
I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing. Think, Alina. You ran from one. You can do it again.
Opening my eyes, I met his gaze. My body still shaking with silent tremors, I stood up straighter.
"Alina Blinov. My name is Alina Blinov," I said slowly. I wasn't ready to die. I ran away because I wanted a better life so I could finally be myself. I wasn't letting this man take away my newly found freedom.
So I lied.
I swallowed hard, and continued. "I have been living on the streets for a few months, and some men found me and wanted me to work at a brothel. I ran away and hid in your car. When your guards found me, I panicked, so I hid under your bed."
The lie rushed out from me effortlessly. My heart was beating hard against my ribcage. This was a big risk, and I hoped, prayed, that he would believe me.
Alex sat back and uncrossed his legs. "Hmmm," he said, never shifting his gaze from me.
Both of us stayed silent for a few minutes, my body tensing more with each passing second. My stomach cramped in fear.
Alex moved forward again, until his elbows were on his knees and his fingers were crossed together. That was when I noticed he didn't have his gun with him anymore.
My gaze moved to his sides, and I saw his gun sat next to his hip, on the couch. I looked back at his face, and he kept staring at me, his gaze more intense.
Did he believe me? Alex Ivanshov was a man with many secrets. Dark secrets. He was also very unpredictable. "I have a deal for you," he said suddenly. I jumped at his voice, my body shuddering.
"You have three options," he continued, as I stood in front of him trembling. "One: You work for me," he said. His voice was monotone, so I wasn't sure what he might be planning.
"Two: You go back to the streets, unsafe." He paused as my body froze. "Three: Or I shoot you for trespassing," he finished.
My breath went out in a whoosh as he stopped talking. Alex's lips quirked up in a tiny smile as he waited for my response.
My eyes widened as I tried to think. I brought a shaky hand to my throat and rubbed it gently, a gesture of nervousness and discomfort.
Option three was obviously not an option. I was not even taking it in consideration. Option two meant being homeless, no money, unsafe on the streets, and very easy for Alberto's men to find me. Option one meant that I would have money and probably a place to live. But there was only one problem.
I would be dead if he ever found out who I was.
With my eyes still locked on his face, I thought about my options. But most importantly, I thought about my survival. And only one option could help me.
"One," I whispered hoarsely, as I stared into Alex's eyes. He seemed surprised, but then his lips stretched into a full smile.
And I just knew.With that answer, I had signed myself over to him. I was no longer my own. I belonged to him.