Chapter Nine - Hannah
The early morning air is brisk, biting against my skin as I’m led out of the mansion. Two of Makar’s men flank me, their expressions unreadable but their presence unmistakably intimidating.
Andrei walks a few steps ahead, the quiet authority in his stride making it clear he’s in charge.
The black SUV is parked in the circular driveway, its sleek exterior glinting faintly under the muted sunlight. One of the men opens the door, gesturing for me to get in.
“Let’s go,” Andrei says curtly, not bothering to glance back as he slides into the front passenger seat.
I hesitate, my feet rooted to the ground for just a moment too long.
“Move,” the man nearest me says, his voice low and impatient.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I climb into the back seat, the leather cool against my skin. The door shuts with a heavy thud, sealing me inside the confined space. The other man takes the seat beside me, his large frame making the already cramped area feel even smaller.
The ride begins in silence, the hum of the engine the only sound as we pull out of the driveway and onto the quiet street. My hands fidget in my lap, my nerves twisted into a knot that tightens with every passing second.
The journey feels endless, the city blurring past the tinted windows as we drive. I glance at Andrei occasionally, hoping for some sign of humanity, some indication that this isn’t as cold and calculated as it feels. But his face remains impassive, his focus fixed straight ahead.
After what feels like hours, the SUV pulls into a gated private clinic. The building is small but modern, its clean white facade gleaming under the daylight. The gates slide shut behind us with a metallic clang, the sound making me flinch.
“We’re here,” Andrei announces, turning slightly to look at me. His eyes are sharp, assessing, but he doesn’t say anything more as he opens his door and steps out.
One of the men opens the door on my side, and I climb out hesitantly. The cold air wraps around me again as I follow Andrei toward the entrance, my heart pounding harder with every step.
The clinic’s interior is pristine, the air sterile and faintly scented with antiseptic. A nurse greets Andrei with a respectful nod before leading us down a hallway.
“In here,” she says, opening a door to a private examination room.
I step inside, my stomach twisting as I take in the clean, clinical space. The walls are pale blue, adorned with generic artwork meant to soothe, but it does nothing to calm my nerves.
The doctor enters a moment later, a tall man with graying hair and a sharp, professional demeanor. His eyes flick to Andrei, and he nods in recognition.
“Miss Fox,” he says, addressing me directly. “I’m Dr. Ivanov. Please, take a seat.”
I lower myself into the chair, my fingers gripping the armrests as the nurse prepares the necessary equipment.
Blood tests, urine samples, and a physical exam—it’s thorough, invasive, and utterly humiliating with Andrei standing by the door, his arms crossed like a sentinel.
The tests blur together in my mind, each one dragging me closer to an answer I already know but can’t bring myself to confront.
When it’s over, I’m led back to the waiting area, the sterile smell of the clinic clinging to my clothes. Andrei remains silent, his gaze steady as I sit stiffly in one of the chairs, my hands clenched in my lap.
Dr. Ivanov reappears after what feels like an eternity, a sealed envelope in his hand. He glances at me, then at Andrei, his expression neutral.
“The results are here,” he says simply, holding out the envelope.
I shake my head quickly, my voice trembling as I speak. “Don’t—don’t say it out loud.”
Dr. Ivanov hesitates, then nods, setting the envelope on the table in front of me.
My heart races as I stare at it, the weight of its contents pressing down on me like a physical force. I already know what it says. I’ve known for weeks, ever since the first wave of nausea hit, but seeing it spelled out in black and white feels like a finality I’m not ready to face.
“You can open it whenever you’re ready,” Dr. Ivanov says gently.
I nod, but I don’t move, my hands trembling in my lap.
Andrei steps forward, picking up the envelope with a raised eyebrow. “You’re not going to look?”
“Not yet,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
He stares at me for a moment, then shrugs. “Fine. She’ll look when she’s ready, but she already knows what it says.”
Dr. Ivanov nods and tucks the envelope into a folder, his professionalism unwavering. “Very well. If there’s anything else—”
“That’s all,” Andrei cuts him off. “We’re leaving.”
I rise to my feet shakily, following them back through the hallway and out to the waiting SUV, one of Makar’s men leaning against it, his expression unreadable. The air feels heavier now, every step dragging me closer to a reality I’m not ready to accept.
The envelope sits heavily in my hand, though I haven’t dared to open it yet. Every nerve in my body feels frayed, my mind racing with a single thought: I need to get out of here.
This is my chance. We’re outside. Public. Even though there are few people around, the clinic is still in the city. Someone will help me. They have to.
My pulse quickens as my eyes dart around, scanning the parking lot. A nurse steps outside for a cigarette break, a man in a crisp suit opens the trunk of a sleek black car, and a woman with a toddler heads toward the clinic’s entrance.
I can do this.
My heart pounds as I glance at Andrei, who has stopped near the SUV to exchange a few words with the man waiting there. His back is to me, his attention momentarily elsewhere.
Now.
I take a deep breath and run.
The sound of my heels against the pavement feels impossibly loud, and I grit my teeth, pushing myself faster. My legs burn, my chest tightens, but adrenaline propels me forward.
“Hey!” Andrei’s voice rings out behind me, sharp and furious.
I don’t look back. I can’t. My eyes lock on the clinic’s entrance, where the nurse glances up from her cigarette, startled.
“Help me!” I scream, the desperation in my voice raw and unfiltered. “Please, he’s kidnapping me!”
The nurse blinks, her expression shifting from confusion to something more guarded.
“Stop!” Andrei’s voice booms, closer now, and I hear the heavy thud of his boots against the pavement as he gives chase.
I make it to the clinic doors, my hand gripping the cool metal of the handle. Before I can yank it open, a hand clamps around my arm, yanking me backward with brutal force.
“No!” I scream, thrashing against the hold, my legs kicking wildly as Andrei drags me away from the entrance.
The nurse watches, her cigarette dangling from her lips. She doesn’t move, doesn’t make any effort to step in.
“Please!” I shout at her, my voice breaking. “Call the police! He’s—”
“Enough,” Andrei growls, his grip like iron as he hauls me toward the SUV.
My heart sinks as I glance around the parking lot. The suited man is leaning against his car now, arms crossed, watching with mild interest but no intent to intervene. The woman with the toddler gives me a fleeting glance before ushering her child inside, her expression carefully blank.
No one is going to help me.
The realization crashes down with horrifying clarity. The nurse, the suited man, the patients—all of them are connected to Makar. This isn’t just a clinic. It’s his territory.
“No one here cares about your screams, girl,” Andrei snaps, his voice harsh and laced with annoyance. “Save your breath.”
I twist against him, trying to pull free, but he tightens his grip, practically lifting me off the ground as he drags me the last few feet to the car.
“You’re going to regret this,” I hiss, my voice shaking with rage and fear.
“Doubt it,” he replies coldly.
The SUV door swings open, and Andrei doesn’t bother with gentleness. He shoves me inside, the force of it sending me sprawling across the leather seat.
I scramble upright, my hands pressing against the door, but it slams shut before I can even think about trying to escape again.
Andrei gets in after me, slamming his own door with enough force to make the car shake. His jaw is clenched, his face dark with fury as he turns to face me.
“Are you insane?” he snaps, his voice low and dangerous. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”
I glare at him, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. “I’m not going to let you keep me here,” I spit, the anger burning through my fear.
“Oh, shut up,” he retorts, leaning closer. “You’re lucky I don’t toss you in the trunk after that little stunt.”
“Do it, then,” I challenge, though my voice wavers. “See how far that gets you.”
Andrei exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose like he’s trying to rein in his temper. “Listen to me, Hannah,” he says, his tone calmer but no less threatening. “This isn’t a game. You don’t get to just run away and pretend like nothing’s happened. You’ve already made yourself a problem. Don’t make it worse.”
“You don’t scare me,” I say, though the tremor in my voice betrays the lie.
Andrei chuckles darkly, shaking his head. “Then you’re even more foolish than I thought.”
The driver starts the engine, the low hum filling the silence as the SUV pulls out of the parking lot. I glance out the window, my stomach churning as the clinic fades into the distance.
My throat tightens, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. This was my chance. My only chance. I failed.
Andrei sits back in his seat, his expression unreadable now. He doesn’t look at me again, his attention fixed straight ahead.
The car ride back to the mansion is long and suffocating, the weight of my failure pressing down on me like a physical force.
***
The SUV rolls to a stop in front of Makar’s mansion, the imposing structure looming against the fading light. Andrei kills the engine, the low hum fading into silence that feels far heavier than it should.
He turns to me, his sharp gaze cutting through the dim interior. “Listen carefully,” he says, his voice low and edged with warning. “Not a word about your little stunt back there. To anyone.”
I cross my arms over my chest, glaring at him, but my pulse quickens. “Why? Afraid of what Makar will do to you ?”
He doesn’t flinch, but the faint tension in his jaw betrays him. “This isn’t about me,” he snaps, his tone clipped. “If he finds out, it won’t just be my head on the block—it’ll be yours too. Trust me, his patience with you is wearing thin.”
I raise an eyebrow, trying to mask the fear gnawing at my insides. “What will he do if he finds out you almost let me escape?”
Andrei doesn’t answer right away, his expression hardening. “That’s not something I plan on finding out,” he says coldly.
I lean back against the seat, exhaling sharply. “Relax. I won’t tell him. It’s not like I want to get myself hurt.”
His eyes narrow slightly, as if assessing whether I’m bluffing. Finally, he nods once, brusquely, and opens his door.
“Come on,” he orders, stepping out and waiting for me to follow.
I hesitate for a moment, my body heavy with exhaustion and defeat. There’s no choice. I climb out of the SUV, the cold evening air brushing against my skin as Andrei motions me toward the house.
The mansion feels even more oppressive now, its grandeur dark and uninviting. Andrei walks ahead of me, his pace brisk and his demeanor sharp.
When we reach the door, he unlocks it quickly and pushes it open, gesturing for me to step inside. The warm interior does little to ease the chill in my bones as I cross the threshold.
Andrei follows, shutting the door behind him with a heavy thud. His expression is unreadable as he leads me down the hallway and into my room—the one with the locked door and the lack of freedom.
He steps aside, watching as I walk in, then leans against the doorframe. “Stay here,” he says flatly. “Keep your mouth shut. I’ll deal with Makar.” My stomach twists at his words. “Let’s hope those test results are what he wants to see,” he adds, his tone almost mocking but tinged with unease.
Before I can respond, he steps back, the door closing with a soft click.
The lock turns, sealing me in once again.
I sit on the edge of the bed, the weight of the day pressing down on me. Whatever happens next, one thing is clear: I’m out of options. For now, all I can do is wait.