“Thank you very much, I'm done.” I say to the man's turned back as I take out my hair from under the hood of the sweater he brought for me. “You can call me, Ivanov.” The man says, turning back to me. “I'm not sure your Pakhan would like that. Was he the one who told you to get them for me?” I ask drily as I look around the room and flex my wrists, more than happy to be free even if it's just for a few minutes. “No, he wasn't.” Ivanov says with an expression on his face similar to that of his brother, the Pakhan. I thought Dimitri sent his brother to get some clothes as a form of begging for my forgiveness for all he has done to me up to this point but yet again, I'm wrong. “Why are you helping me? What is your motive?” I ask with narrowed eyes after some minutes. “No motive, Malen'kiy tsvetok.” Little flower. Ivanov says in a soft tone while his eyes rove over my red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked face. “There is always a motive. No man in your line of work will do something so

I wipe the fog covering the window and recoil in anger and shame when I get a good look at my reflection. I had dark circles around my eyes, and my cheeks looked sunken, not that they were ever puffy or filled. I run my fingers over my bare neck and imagine what it would look like with a chain around it. My breathing picks up and I claw at my neck as I imagine not being able to breathe from the tightness of the imaginary chain. I punch the glass, not even having the energy to wince in pain when the glass shards pierce into my knuckles. Uh oh. Dimitri was going to be so pissed. I doubt he wants me hurt. I feel the blood trickle down my palms and I watch in fascination. I pick up one of the broken shards that had fallen in the white spotless sink and I stare at it for a long moment. The blood drips from my hand and makes a magnificent hue on the spotless sink. I lift the shards to my left wrist, and the thought of cutting through the fragile nerve and skin has never been so appeali

“Boris Sidorov.” I say coldly as I step into my office. Ivanov gives me a confused look, probably wondering when I had become friends with a scoundrel of this nature. “Mr Gusef! Priyatno poznakomit'sya. YA znayu, naskol'ko ty deystvitel'no zanyat.” It's a pleasure meeting you. I know how busy you can truly be. Boris says with a nervous chuckle as he shifts from one foot to the other. I give him a sharp look, not welcoming him or inviting him to sit with me. I settle down on the double-piece couch the one closest to Ivanov. “Kakiye problemy u vas yest' ?” What problems do you have? I ask him, in an emotionless voice. Ivanov places his hands on Boris's shoulders and shakes his head slightly when Boris tries to sit on the chair opposite me. You do not sit in front of the Pakhan unless you are invited to. “Ummmm—— my wife is missing.” Boris says, his eyes flicking between the bulk that is Ivanov me. I knew Boris Sidorov very well, although unfortunately so. He was Maksim Fedorov's

“Put away the knife, Malyshka.” Dimitri says in a cold hard tone bereft of any form of emotion. “No. I told you it’s my turn now, let's play my own game. Wanna know what it's called?” I ask with a sly smile, “Set me free or I kill you.” I respond to my question without giving him a chance to speak. “Are you threatening me, Malyshka?” Dimitri asks with a wide smile on his face, “I must say, I like this wild side of you. My little kitten is finally showing her claws. I should start calling you My little kitten. Malen'kiy kotenok.” Dimitri says with a wide smile on his face responding to his own question just like I did earlier. “I'm serious, Dimitri, I will hurt you if you don't let me go!” I say to him as the knife begins to tremble in my own hands. Why wasn't he scared? Was he trying to make me go through with my threat? I'm not sure I have the stomach to hurt anyone, much less Dimitri, the leader of the Bratva and head of the Gusef family.“What exactly is your plan, Malen'kiy ko