Chapter 2 - Ruslana
“Rodion, please, you can’t be serious,” I moan, stamping my foot because I have a lot of pent-up frustration over this topic. It’s not the first time I’ve tried to talk to him about it either—but he’s so damn stubborn he never listens to anything I say. And he worries too much.
“I am dead serious . The guards stay,” he says calmly, not even bothering to look up from his phone.
“Five of them though? It’s embarrassing. Everywhere I go, they follow me, and people won’t stop staring. One would be enough. I mean—I go into a coffee shop and the place is instantly packed because they all want to pile in there with me.”
Rodion tilts his head to the side and pulls one corner of his mouth tight. He narrows his eyes at me. “This conversation is over, Ruslana. And every time you try and have it again in the future—the outcome will be the same. Until I decide there is no longer a threat—the guards stay .”
I roll my eyes and sigh dramatically, waving my arms in the air.
“You are so annoying,” I whine.
“Alright,” he says, not caring at all, returning his attention to his phone.
“Rodion—,“ I try again, and he glares at me—his eyes suddenly fired and dark.
“Ruslana, I’ve had enough of this. I said no. Do you have any idea how lucky you are to be able to have security like this? Do you even have any idea how lucky you are to be alive after what happened? Stop asking. It’s not going to change. You are being a brat.”
I slink back, knowing I’ve pushed him too far. Usually, I’m pretty good at reading his mood, but today I slipped up and now he’s pissed off.
But so am I.
How much longer do I have to put up with this shit for?
My whole life is being suffocated because of it and I want to feel normal again. The stupid guards are a constant reminder of what happened and I’m tired of it. No one is coming after me anymore. They tried, they all died, and now it’s over.
I spin out of his home office and stomp all the way back downstairs, making as much noise as possible in order to convey just how pissed off I am about this.
When I get downstairs, marching into the living room, Anya looks at me with a sly grin. “I told you he wouldn’t budge,” she laughs.
“I had to try,” I sigh, flopping down onto their sofa. “Honestly, it’s been almost two months since that whole thing happened. When will he stop all of this drama.”
Anya sits down next to me. “Rusla, we were almost kidnapped—we could have died . It really freaked your brother out. He laid awake so many nights after that and I think it was because he felt he had failed you. Give him some slack. He’s just trying to protect you. It’s what brothers are for. Mine are just as annoying. I know how it feels,” she speaks gently and I know she’s right. But it doesn’t change the fact that I am tired of having an entire army of security guys following me everywhere. Literally everywhere.
I’ve tried to be patient.
I thought this whole thing would last a month at the most.
Now I’m wondering if it will ever end.
“Ok, well I’m going to head back home. I just popped in to say hi and try talk to Rodion again.” I push off the sofa and sigh heavily. I wanted to go clubbing tonight, but I’m not in the mood for it anymore.
It’s not as fun with so much security.
“Tell Rodo I say bye for me.” I wave to Anya as I walk towards the front door to let myself out. I visit Anya so often here that it’s like a second home to me. I visit her more than I visit my own brother. We definitely became closer after the kidnapping incident. I guess we have an understanding between us. And it’s nice to have someone to talk to about what happened—I mean someone who really understands how it felt.
“I’ll do that,” she calls out after me. “Come over for dinner later in the week. Give me a call or something.”
“Ok!” I shout back as I leave the house and shut the door behind me.
And there they are.
Five, tall, strong-looking men. Armed, dressed in black and driving me mental because they are stuck to me like glue. In fact, the only place they don’t go is inside Rodion’s home and inside mine. But they are right outside the door. Waiting.
Jeez they must be so bored.
It’s not even like I’ve been doing exciting things so most of the time they just stand around, bored out of their brains, with nothing going on and no one to shoot at.
“Come on, guys, let’s go on an adventure,” I say cheerfully.
Not even one of them smiles. They all suck. They are bland and serious, and I want them gone.
I skip over to my car, my bright pink sneakers crunching on the gravel driveway and my ponytail waving back and forth behind me.
I slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine, ready to go.
Two of the guards climb into my car and I roll my eyes, reaching out and turning the volume on my music way too loud. Loud enough to annoy me , but the fact that I am probably annoying him is satisfying enough for me to suffer through it.
I’m not really a Swifty fan—but I like to make an exception when any of the guards are in the car. Blaring the girl power tunes and singing as loud as I can is one of the ways I like to get my small revenge.
And, of course, I sing as off key as I can.
Whatever small pleasures I can steal in these moments—I take them.
My brother really should have agreed to at least loosen the ropes a little.
He could have left me with two guards. He could have negotiated or compromised. I’m feeling so suffocated lately that I’ve been contemplating doing something to prove to them that I don’t need the guards, that I can watch my own back. I’ve learned a lot since all of that shit happened. I’m not as naive as I used to be.
I wish my brothers had more faith in me.
Well, me talking to Rodion this morning was a curtesy. It was one last attempt to be reasonable and to have an open discussion with him.
Him saying no just makes me more determined to prove myself.
So I’ve got a plan to lose my guards for a bit.
I desperately need a few hours alone.
And I won’t do anything stupid—just a little shopping.
If Rodion had agreed to lessen the intensity of my security, I wouldn’t be doing this—so really—it’s his fault.
When I get home, I park in my usual spot. One of the guards escorts me as I head up to my penthouse suite.
The rest of them move off to position themselves around the building.
My penthouse is gorgeous.
My brothers take care of me well. I do appreciate that—but I don’t appreciate being treated like a child.
Once I’m inside my home I know I have a very small window to achieve my plan. The guard who escorted me here will start scouting with the rest of them.
They spend around ten minutes scouting the building and making sure there are no unusual visitors or vehicles around, then they stand in one position, rotating on a shift until I go out, then they fall in line around me.
So I have ten minutes before one of them will be positioned outside my door again.
I toss my phone onto the sofa, I’m one hundred percent sure my brothers are tracking it. So, I have to leave it behind.
It’s time to go.
I grab my purse and bolt right back out the door and into the elevator.
My heart is hammering like a thousand horses running wild.
The elevator moves quickly down to the ground floor.
I bolt out of it as soon as the doors open and run into the street.
I can’t take my own car, it has tracking as well.
Without looking behind myself, too scared I’ll see one of the guards, I keep walking as fast as I can until I’m far enough away from my building—then I wave down a taxi and climb inside.
It was perfect. My escape plan was beautifully, perfect.
“Can you please take me downtown?” I say to the driver. “The little shopping district off Fifth Street.”
He nods, punches in the address on his monitor, presses the button to start tracking my fare and pulls out into the road. I grin as we drive through town. I’m proud of myself.
And later on, when I get home safe and sound, my brothers will have to see that I’m really not in any danger at all. They’ll have to reduce my guard or get rid of them all together. I can’t keep living like this.
I’ve been super smart about my plan.
I’m not even going to the mall I usually go to. I’m heading to the smaller shopping district with vintage boutiques and a few fun clothing stores and coffee shops and a lot of other things. I can’t wait to just enjoy myself.
We arrive and the driver parks on the side of the road. I hand him the money. “Keep the change,” I say cheerfully, climbing out.
Standing in the street, I look around, smiling at everyone. This whole adventure has lifted my mood considerably.
Because this is not my usual area to explore, and honestly, no one I know would ever shop here, I know people won’t recognize me. It’s the whole reason I came here. I’m safer here than anywhere else I could shop.
I start strolling through the streets, stopping in at each shop, wandering around, enjoying myself while browsing and buying to my heart’s content.
It’s like a heavy weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I don’t have five massive guys following me around, looking grouchy and glaring at anyone who comes near me. No one is staring at me, I don’t feel embarrassed—It’s amazing.
In fact—no one is looking at me at all.
My brothers are so paranoid.
I have been walking around for almost two hours and no has spoken to me apart from the shop assistants.
My fingers are getting a little tired from carrying all the shopping bags. That was one thing that was great about having guards—they carried everything for me.
But still.
I can’t wait to get home and show my brothers how much shopping I did and that absolutely nothing happened.
I stop at a coffee shop, order a slice of lemon cake and a cappuccino.
After this I’ll go back.
My feet are tired and I’m really happy.
While I eat my lemon cake, I watch the people walking past and smile at whoever glances in my direction. It feels so good to be free like this.
The lemon cake is zesty. The perfect balance between sweet and sour. And the dark bitterness of my coffee compliments it wonderfully.
When I’m done, I walk out into the street and turn left, towards the center of the district where most of the taxis hangout waiting for passengers. I left my phone at home, so I can’t book an Uber, but I knew there would be plenty of taxis to take me home.
I swing my parcels back and forth, humming to myself.
Something feels off, though.
There is a weird, tingly feeling at the back of my neck, and I swear every time I look over my shoulder, it’s the same dark SUV I see.
I dart around a corner, moving suddenly and impulsively.
I just want to confirm if I’m being paranoid now because I feel like I am.
The SUV follows.
I swallow hard.
I can’t overreact.
I can’t panic.
This is probably just a coincidence.
But I’m also not taking any chances. I’ll lose them. I know this place well enough to get lost in the side streets and pedestrian alleyways.
I start walking even faster, trying to play it cool, but my heart is beating really hard and I have a dark undercurrent of fear pulsing through me.