Chapter Six - Makar
The basement is silent except for the faint hum of the overhead bulb that sways slightly, casting shifting shadows on the cold, gray walls. The smell of damp concrete fills the air, the floor beneath my boots hard and unforgiving. Hannah lies crumpled on the floor, her breathing shallow and uneven.
I lean against the far wall, arms crossed, watching her. She’s small, pale against the stark grayness of the room. Her dark hair spills across the floor, and for a moment, I study her features—the faint tremble of her lips, the delicate curve of her neck.
There’s something about her. Something that gnaws at the edges of my memory.
“Who are you?” I murmur, my voice low, though there’s no one here to answer.
Her stillness is unnerving. She stirs faintly, a soft whimper escaping her lips, but her eyes remain shut. The sight is almost… pitiful. Almost.
The sound of boots on the stairs pulls my attention, and I glance toward the doorway as Andrei descends, his expression as stoic as ever. He holds a slim folder in one hand, flipping through its contents as he steps into the room.
“Boss,” he says, snapping the folder shut. “Got what you asked for.”
“Good,” I reply, straightening. “What did you find?”
He glances down at her, his lip curling faintly before he meets my gaze again. “Her name’s Hannah Fox. Twenty-one. Moved here from Montana about two years ago for school. She’s studying art at one of the local universities. Works nights at the Ember House to pay the bills.”
Art. The word feels oddly fitting. She looks like she belongs in a painting—soft features, striking in a way that’s difficult to define. I push the thought aside.
“No family?” I ask.
Andrei shakes his head. “None. Parents are dead, no siblings, no close relatives. She’s completely alone.” He smirks faintly. “Lucky for us. Makes cleanup easier if we need to.”
I shoot him a look, and his smirk fades.
I step closer to her, my boots scraping faintly against the floor. Her chest rises and falls with slow, shallow breaths. “She’s no one,” I say quietly, more to myself than to him.
“No one,” Andrei echoes, his tone matter-of-fact. “She still saw too much. She called the cops. You know what that means.”
I glance back at him. “I’ll decide what happens to her.”
He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t argue. “Fair enough. But you know what I think.”
“Do I ever care what you think?” I reply, my tone dry.
Andrei chuckles, but there’s tension behind it. “No, but you pay me to say it anyway.”
I crouch beside her, resting one elbow on my knee. Up close, I can see the faint freckles on her nose, the dark lashes that cast shadows on her pale skin. Something about her feels… familiar.
“Andrei,” I say without looking up. “Does she have a history with anyone in the club? Regulars, staff?”
“Not that I found,” he replies. “Kept her head down, mostly. Did her job. Quiet.”
Quiet. The word grates against the memory flickering at the edge of my mind. I remember something louder—laughter, a flash of fire in the dark. My jaw tightens.
“She doesn’t seem so quiet now,” I mutter, more to myself.
Andrei steps closer, his boots heavy against the concrete. “What do you mean?”
I stand, brushing off my jacket. “I’ve seen her before.”
“You’ve seen every waitress in that club at some point.”
“No,” I reply sharply, turning to face him. “I’ve seen her .”
Andrei frowns, his brow furrowing as he glances down at her. “Where?”
I don’t answer immediately, my gaze fixed on her still form. The memory is hazy, blurred by the haze of vodka and dim lights, but it’s there. The curve of her jaw, the softness of her lips—
That night.
The realization hits like a punch to the gut, and I take a step back, my expression hardening.
“What?” Andrei presses, noticing the change in my demeanor.
“I know her,” I say flatly.
He raises an eyebrow. “From where?”
“It doesn’t matter.” My voice is clipped, and the look I shoot him silences any further questions.
Andrei exhales sharply, his frustration evident. “What do you want to do with her?”
“She stays here,” I reply, my tone brooking no argument. “For now.”
He folds his arms, clearly dissatisfied. “She’s a liability, Boss. You know that. If you’re not going to deal with her now—”
“I said she stays,” I snap, my voice cold. “I’ll handle her when I’m ready.”
Andrei holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Your call.”
I glance back at her, my thoughts swirling. She’s a liability, yes. She saw too much, involved the cops, and now she’s lying unconscious in the basement of my home.
She’s also something else. A puzzle. A memory I’d rather forget, now staring me in the face.
“Andrei,” I say, keeping my eyes on the girl slumped on the cold floor. Her dark hair is tangled, her face pale and slack in unconsciousness. Even now, there’s a tension in her body, like she’s ready to spring back into life and fight. It’s intriguing. “Have someone bring her food and water. She’s not dying yet.”
Andrei leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a faint chuckle. “You’re too soft sometimes, Boss.”
The corner of my mouth twitches in amusement. “Soft?” I finally glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “This is curiosity, not kindness.”
He grins, shaking his head. “Curious about what, whether she’ll thank you for the scraps?”
“No,” I reply smoothly, turning back to her. She looks small here, crumpled and vulnerable, but there’s something deceptively tough in her, even now. “Whether she’ll fight or flee when she realizes the door isn’t locked.”
Andrei straightens, his smirk giving way to a more serious expression. “You’re leaving her door unlocked?”
I nod, slipping my hands into my pockets as I study her. “Yes. Put her in one of the upstairs bedrooms. Something decent..”
“You’re actually hoping she’ll try to escape, aren’t you?” His grin returns, sharper this time.
“It could be entertaining,” I say, letting a faint smirk curl my lips.
Andrei chuckles, shaking his head like I’ve told some kind of joke. “You’re something else, Boss. Should I have someone stationed nearby, just in case she bolts?”
“No.” My tone leaves no room for argument. “If she tries something, I’ll handle it myself.”
He looks like he wants to argue, but then shrugs, a trace of amusement still lingering in his eyes. “Fair enough.” He signals to the guards standing outside the door. “Let’s get her moved, then.”
The guards step inside, lifting the girl carefully as they carry her out of the basement. She doesn’t stir, her head lolling against her shoulder, and I follow at a steady pace, my footsteps echoing through the dim corridor.
As we reach the main hall, Andrei glances at me again, his tone lighter now. “You know this is risky, right? She’s got fire. She could cause trouble.”
“I’m counting on it,” I reply, the words laced with dry amusement.
He laughs, shaking his head as he walks off to oversee the preparations.
Once they’re out of sight, I take a moment to linger in the quiet hall, my thoughts focused on the girl. There’s something about her—something that doesn’t fit into the usual pattern of pawns and players in my world.
I make my way to my study, the familiar scent of leather and whiskey greeting me as I step inside. Closing the door behind me, I cross to the desk and pick up the phone, dialing a number I know by heart.
“Vera,” I say when the call connects.
“Mr. Sharov,” she answers, her voice steady and efficient, as always.
“I need you to keep an eye on our guest,” I tell her, leaning back in my chair. “She’ll be moved to one of the upstairs bedrooms shortly.”
There’s a pause on the other end before she replies. “The girl from earlier?”
“Yes,” I confirm. “She’ll be scared when she wakes up. Befriend her. Be kind. Answer her questions if she asks.”
Vera doesn’t question me, though I can hear the faint hesitation in her voice. “Understood, sir.”
“Let her think you’re there to help,” I continue, my tone measured. “In a way, you are. If she plans something—anything—you tell me immediately.”
“I’ll watch her closely,” she promises.
I nod, though she can’t see it. “Don’t press too hard. Let her come to you.”
“Of course,” Vera says.
There’s a pause, the sound of her breath steady on the other end of the line before she speaks again. “Mr. Sharov… of course, I’ll do what you’ve asked, but I want to say something.”
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by her uncharacteristic boldness. “Go on.”
“I won’t have to fake kindness with her,” Vera says quietly. “She’s just a girl. Scared. Alone. I don’t know what she did to cross your path, but… I’ll help her because it’s the right thing to do.”
There’s no challenge in her tone, no defiance. Just honesty.
For a moment, I say nothing, my fingers tapping against the desk as I consider her words. Vera has always been dependable—loyal to the Sharovs, discreet, and skilled at reading situations. That insight of hers is why I trust her with tasks like this.
“That’s good,” I say finally, my voice calm. “Her fear might make her reckless. If she trusts you, it will be easier to keep her from doing something stupid.”
“I understand,” Vera replies. “Trust isn’t something you can command. It has to be earned.”
I let out a quiet chuckle. “You’re confident you can earn it?”
“I’m confident I can try,” she answers.
A grin pulls at my lips. Vera’s compassion is rare in my world, but I’ve seen how effective it can be. “Then do what you must. Just remember where your loyalty lies.”
“With you, Mr. Sharov,” she says firmly. “Always.”
“Good,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “That’s all for now.”
“Of course. I’ll check on her shortly.”
I hang up, my thoughts shifting back to the girl. Vera’s natural warmth might be exactly what’s needed. She’ll soften the edges, make the girl feel like she has an ally in this house. That’s fine—so long as Vera remembers that kindness is a tool, no different from fear or control.
The door creaks open, and Andrei steps in, his expression unreadable. “She’s been moved,” he says, leaning casually against the frame. “Upstairs. One of the bedrooms like you asked.”
“And?” I prompt.
“She hasn’t woken up yet,” he continues. “Still out cold. Vera’s keeping an eye on her now.”
I nod, my focus narrowing. “Good. Let her rest for now.”
Andrei tilts his head, studying me with a sly grin. “You’re putting a lot of effort into this girl, Boss. What makes her so interesting?”
I glance at him, my smirk faint but sharp. “That’s what I intend to find out.”
Andrei chuckles, shaking his head as he pushes off the doorframe. “Well, I’ll leave you to your scheming.”
He leaves, the door clicking shut behind him, and I lean back in my chair.
The pieces are in place. Now, I wait to see how she moves.