Chapter Three
Alina’s POV
There is something about bad occurrences: They show up suddenly and sweep you into a whirlpool of anguish until your flailing hands are unable to signal for help, and you drown.
It felt like I was in a dream, one I would do anything to wake up from.
But, it wasn’t. If anything, this was worse than the worst nightmare I'd ever had. Just a few hours ago, I was a regular nurse at a small but reputable clinic. I had patients who relied on me for care and colleagues with whom I shared inside jokes. All of a sudden, everything was turned upside down. I couldn’t lift a finger to do anything about it.
I didn’t need any spiritual skills to know the outcome of the situation I was now in: Life as I had known it for the past year was over. Again. Even if help came and someone managed to pull me out of the whirlpool, I would never be the same person who fell into it.
While the world went on normally, my life was transforming into something I didn’t even understand yet.
Something too dreadful to predict or imagine.
Nothing good could come out of the Bratva taking a hold of me; I would be delusional to think otherwise.
Although Liza, Roman, and a few others in the Bratva circle have shown me that the Bratva wasn’t all about violence and evil, the fact that I was being taken in relation to Vitya put me right in the face of danger.
As we drove through the city and I looked at shops closing and bars opening, I couldn’t help but wish I were anywhere but at the clinic earlier tonight.
I didn’t doubt the Bratva's ability to find me at my apartment, but maybe, just maybe, they could have missed me if I’d seen the news earlier and had left the country or even the continent altogether.
Maybe I could be on a remote beach in Tanzania or the Seychelles right now.
I sighed, tired of sitting in the back seat of the car, surrounded by men who seemed under oath to remain silent and rigid.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked the third time, my voice tired.
“You’re coming with us, that’s all you need to know,” the bald guy answered from the passenger seat, not turning around to face me.
At least, someone thought to answer this time.
Chewing the skin inside my cheek, I rested my head against the cool window.
I thought of the different patients who would be expecting to see me in their wards tonight.
Francesc, the ulcer patient, might stay up in his bed, convinced that I would show up as always.
I imagined his teenage daughter pleading with him to rest for the night and promising to wake him the moment I stepped into his ward.
I wondered what quirky poem Hector had written for me.
He had told me yesterday that he was working on another poem for me, and he’d let me see it when I came around today.
Hector belonged to a small band that performed at different bars at night, but, from the number of bullet grazes he’d been to the clinic for, it was clear he had a different hustle during the day—when he wasn’t performing.
It pained me that I wouldn’t show up; that they would be disappointed when they heard that no one knew where I was after I suddenly left.
Damn, they might even hate me now if they’d heard the news and taken it the exact way it was made to appear.
They would most likely believe the nurse they knew and liked was an accomplice to a criminal.
They would probably regret ever meeting me; maybe they would use me as a bad example when they tell stories about their stay at the clinic to others.
The shrill sound of a ringtone distracted me from my thoughts.
“Boss,” the bald man spoke.
“Okay, boss.”
I sighed again in mild disappointment. He’d clearly just talked with Konstantin, yet I couldn’t glean any clues or mention of anything that told me what to expect.
On the other hand, though, I couldn’t say I was surprised at how everything was kept under wraps.
It was how things were done in the world of power.
I’ll just have to wait and see.
**********
The man beside me undid the leather that bound my wrists as the car slowed to a stop in front of a large building. The bald man got out first. Then another guy from one of the other cars opened my door.
“Your bag remains with us,” the guy beside me told me as he got out on the other side. The bald man made signals to the two guys beside me, and they led me inside, with some other guys following us.
The house smelled of dust, and as we crossed the wide open space, I could see that it hadn’t been inhabited in a while.
Even through the darkness, which was only subdued by the glow of moonlight through the wide, curtainless windows, I could see covered furniture scattered around.
We made a right turn and went down a darker hallway.
“Get in,” the guy to my left instructed as the other guy pushed a door open along the hallway. “Guards will be out here.”
I did as he said, not missing the warning in his information. Not like I would try to run away when I didn’t even know where we were.
The click of the door told me I was locked in, just as was expected.
My first instinct was to check the windows, just to see the surroundings and maybe gauge how far we were from the city.
But two simple turns of my neck showed me how stuck I was.
The room had no windows. Not even one. It was just stupid, dull walls and the door.
I sat at the edge of the bed, facing the door.
“Run, girl! It’s a raid, can’t you see?” the older lady yelled at me before running ahead of me, away from the side of the warehouse.
But I kept walking towards the front of the warehouse.
Why wouldn’t I?
He was in there. And if the deafening gunshots were any indication, he was in greater danger than I was. Even though saving him was the last thing I planned to come see him for, I couldn’t stand back. I had to see what exactly was going on and what I could do to help.
I was standing by the wide metal door of the warehouse in no time. As people ran back and forth, my eyes searched for him. There were many bodies on the floor already, and all the blood made it hard for me to take a step into the warehouse.
Then I let out a breath of relief as I found him. He was on the floor, the dust all over his black tee and jeans, telling me he’d been crawling to escape. Then he raised his head, and his eyes met mine. Happiness flooded my mind as I mirrored his loving smile.
But then, he looked to his front, and the warmth on his face vanished again, replaced by terror.
Following his gaze, I saw who he was looking at—and my heart practically jumped out of my mouth when I saw the gun he pointed at my boyfriend.
“Noooo!” I yelled. “No! No! Please! Don’t kill him! Don’t!”
“Go!” Siroc shouted at the same time another gunshot echoed.
“No!” I bellowed out, my hands covering my mouth as I watched the blood pool around his lifeless body.
The man with the gun turned towards me, and I turned around before I could think. I ran for my life.
I swallowed as low sounds outside the door pulled me out of the past—only to plunge me into the cold reality of my present.
‘…Alina Sokolov, Gregory Ivan, and the others with whom he had frequent communication in the past few weeks would be vetted…’
‘You’re coming with us. That’s all you need to know.’
The click of the door ended my trail of past and present thoughts.
I looked up just as he stepped in. The ghost I’d hated for years. He came to stand in front of me, arms folded, eyes stormy.
“Konstantin Lobanov,” I spat. “You’re the one who killed him.”
He raised a thick eyebrow at me and, before he could say anything, he pulled out his vibrating phone from his pocket. Then he was out of the room, the door closing behind him.
I stood from the bed, slowly pacing the length of the room.
The hatred I had for Konstantin was alive as ever.
Back when I used to care for Liza, I actively avoided him.
On occasions when I unavoidably passed by him or ran into him, I always turned away and simply left.
I never wanted to gaze up at him or look into his eyes.
I had never been able to think of anyone I hated more than I hated him.
The worst part was that he didn’t even know it.
I found the only plastic chair against the far right wall and brought it to the other side of the bed. I sat on it, wrapping my arms around myself.
The door opened again, and Konstantin walked in, his leather jacket glimmering under the dim light.
“As you may have realized, you’re here because of Vitya Morozov,” he started, his voice calm as he folded his arms again.
“Your boyfriend, or ex—whatever he is to you, betrayed us. He betrayed the Bratva by gathering information to sell. Now, he’s been arrested, and we can’t exactly reach him to get details of the stolen intel from him. That’s where you come in.”
He took a step forward as he went on. “We found details of you meeting him at covert locations even while he was hiding from the Bratva. There are files showing bank transfers linked to your name, some of which were even transferred by you at the bank. All we want from you, as his partner, is information on where he stored the intel. We find it, erase it, and you’re free. ”
Okay, this is incriminating.
I swallowed, trying to garner the confidence not look away like a guilty person.
“I’m not Vitya’s partner—in whatever atrocities he has committed or in any sense at all,” I declared. “I broke up with him months ago. I know nothing about the information you speak of.”
“Lying will not help you. The faster you tell the truth, the better for you,” he remarked, his expression grave. “He was in contact with you right until he was arrested, don’t think I don’t know that.”
“He is my ex,” I insisted. “Even Liza will tell you I broke up with him several months ago when he tried to coerce me into his bed. I ended things with him when I was still under Lobanov employment in New York. He kept sending me texts even when I changed my number, so I just stopped asking him to stop; I expected him to get tired, eventually. I don’t know anything about whatever he’s been up to. ”
He nodded once but didn’t speak. He circled me like prey, the silence between us heavy. When he came around to face me again, I caught a flicker of something in his eyes but couldn’t quite place what it was.
My pulse raced as his blue eyes locked on mine, but I didn’t drop my gaze. Even if I was terrified inside, I was cold as ice on the outside.
“If you’re going to kill me, you should just do it now,” I said.
He inclined his head to the side like he didn’t expect what I had just said. Then he finally spoke again. “I have orders to extract information from you or kill you. I haven’t decided on what to do yet.”
My responding laugh was a scornful sound.
“I just told you the truth about Vitya,” I began. “But, yeah, there might be another truth you might not be ready to hear yet.”
A small frown appeared on his face, and he questioned, “What do you mean?”
I had expected him to taunt me back. His curious attention wasn’t something I had anticipated. Not sure who I was actually angry at, I raised my voice as I spat, “Just get it over with! Kill me and put it all behind me.”
“Tell me what truth you're talking about,” he insisted, his tone equal parts commanding and pleading.
Unable to keep it in any longer, I asked him in a low tone, “Remember anyone called Siroc Antonov, a young man you killed at a warehouse during a raid several years ago?”
I crossed my fingers on my lap, waiting for him to remember. I watched as recognition dawned on his face, subtly chewing the inside of my cheeks to avoid breaking down at the memory again.
“You were his girl,” he stated immediately, and I nodded in response.
I couldn’t keep the tears from running down my face as my attempts to maintain composure failed.
“You killed the first man I ever loved right before my eyes! I begged! I shouted at you not to, but you pulled the trigger! You mercilessly killed him! Just kill me right now! Kill me, too, because that’s what you do best!”
Through the tears in my eyes, I watched him turn around and leave the room without a word.