Chapter 1 #2
I swallowed hard against the big lump of emotion in my throat, but it didn’t help. This time I spoke in English. “You’re just as cold and calculating as the rest of them.”
Our eyes met again, briefly, but he remained silent. I don’t know why, but that irritated me. For a brief second, I envisioned kicking the back of his seat just to unleash some of the emotion coursing through my body, but I managed to override the thought.
Pressing my fingertips to my temples, I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath. I worked to quell the growing panic within my gut. I needed to escape.
I had toyed with the idea many times, but multiple obstacles had stopped me. I needed my passport. I needed money. And I needed courage, something I sorely lacked.
I opened my eyes, and as I stared out into the darkness, I felt my resolve harden. I had officially run out of time.
While my uncle and aunt were out for dinner, I would search his office for my passport and some money. Once I had those items secured, I would make a break for my freedom.
It seemed an eternity before we finally pulled in front of the house. Without looking at Axel, I scrambled out of the car, and then paused. “I won’t be going out again tonight.”
“Have a good night, Mila.” His voice was low and calm, devoid of emotions.
Ignoring him, and the fact that he knew my name, I stepped out into the cold air and walked alone to the house. The next couple hours could determine my future.
Minutes later, I found myself standing alone in my uncle’s office.
His safe was locked, but after rifling through all the drawers in his office, I found my birth certificate, my passport and my parents’ death certificates.
I stuffed them all into my bag. In another drawer, I found cash, a lot of it.
I took around 450,000 rubles, which was roughly five thousand dollars.
I knew the moment they realized I was missing they would head to the airport.
I had a much better plan. I would head to Moscow and take the train, which had one stopover in St. Petersburg. Then I would continue on to Helsinki, Finland, where I would be able to catch a flight to Vancouver.
I didn’t have any idea what I’d do once I ended up back in Canada, but I could only plan so far ahead. My priority was to get away from my aunt’s insane threats of marriage. Nothing else mattered.
I returned to my room and packed a knapsack with a little clothing, toiletries and the few remaining mementos I had of my parents. Sadly, I was forced to leave my mom’s wedding dress behind, along with my dad’s trumpet, but it would be impossible to carry either of those items with me.
I used the staff kitchen landline to order a taxi to the end of our country road at one in the morning. This would give me plenty of time to catch my first train, which left at three.
I got fully dressed and waited in my bed. I could hear my uncle and aunt’s late arrival.
My uncle knocked on my closed door and even opened it a crack, but then he shut it again.
I could hear his low voice as he spoke to my aunt. “She’s asleep. We can talk to her in the morning.”
“This can’t wait,” she argued.
“Let the girl sleep,” he commanded. “Nothing will change between now and breakfast.”
Their voices faded as they moved to their wing of the house.
Eyes wide, straining against the dark, I listened to the familiar sounds of the house settling for the night. The minutes ticked by, too slowly.
Finally, it was time. I put on my coat and shoes and eased open the balcony door of my bedroom.
It was connected to the main balcony that wrapped around to the back of the house.
Once I was on the ground, I crept through the dark shadows of the garden, avoiding the long driveway, and made it to the road without incident.
Then I spent the next thirty minutes hurrying to the nearest crossroads, the only identifiable location marker.
To my enormous relief, my cab was already waiting.
I got in and spoke to the driver in Russian. “To the Sapsan train station, please.”
The Sapsan was a rapid train both modern and clean, even in economy. I sat alone, tucked my bag under my body and fought sleep as the gentle rocking of the train did its best to lull me.
I knew I should have been planning my next steps, but I was too stressed about what would happen when they discovered me missing.
I woke up to the sound of the conductor walking through the car and announcing that we were ten minutes out from the Moskovsky railway station in St. Petersburg.
I checked my ticket. I had two hours to make my connecting train, which departed from the Finlyandsky railway station on the other side of the city.
I disembarked and walked through the large station, trying to locate a taxi line.
I went out a set of side doors and was trying to orient myself when I heard the piercing sound of a woman screaming in terror.
To my left, just past a series of benches, two men circled each other like big dogs, looking for a fight.
One of them lunged with a knife in his hand.
The woman screamed again, and her cry was followed by the sound of men shouting and people running toward them.
But it was too late. The unarmed man collapsed on the ground, pressing his hand to the wound in his side.
The man with the knife was tackled by two men, while another man crouched next to the one who had been stabbed.
I blinked. There was so much blood. It pooled around the victim in a crimson circle, growing so quickly that the other man was now kneeling in it.
I wanted to move, to back away, but I felt both frozen and strangely hypnotized by the scene.
The same woman was now wailing while the two men held down the assailant.
Some people fled, and others watched in chilling, silent horror.
Eventually the man crouching next to the victim shook his head, made the sign of the cross and unsteadily got to his feet.
He’s dead? Had I just witnessed a murder?
By the time the sirens wailed in the distance, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I staggered to a bench as the revulsion of what I had just witnessed washed over me.
The truth of my vulnerability was starting to creep in around the edges.
I was only four hours into my escape, and I had just witnessed a murder.
Up until this point, I had only been worried about money and how to fend for myself.
I hadn’t factored in how to keep myself safe.
After years of being protected by bodyguards with guns, my own personal safety had never once been my own responsibility.
How would I survive this? Why did I think I could possibly fly to another country? I had limited skills in the real world and no safe place to land.
But then I thought about Sergei. Marrying him wasn’t an option, nor was it survivable.
I could not allow myself to be legally bound to a man who had less empathy than a rattlesnake.
It didn’t matter how it happened. I needed to escape this nightmare and make my way back to Canada. There were no other options.
I took a deep breath and stood up, pulling my knapsack over my shoulders. I can do this. I slowly turned and looked to the far entrance.
One step at a time. First, I needed to find a taxi to take me to the Finlyandsky railway station.
Taking one last look at the crime scene in front of me, as both police and ambulance workers ran toward the situation, I stepped back and bumped into someone.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, as I glanced back at the person I had bumped into.
Looking down at me was my uncle’s employee, Axel.
He gave me a regretful smile. “Hello, Mila.”