Chapter 5 A Girl in a Cage
A Girl in a Cage
—Maksym—
Igot the summons around five. No explanation. Just Pakhan wants to see you. Now. Code for: someone made a mess, and I was the weapon sent to erase it.
So I showed up.
Inside the office, Pakhan stood by the liquor cabinet, swirling something expensive in a short glass. His suit was dark grey, his shirt ironed crisp, not a wrinkle in sight.
“Maksym,” he said, turning halfway. “We’ve got a situation.”
Of course we did.
He tossed a folder onto the table. I opened it without sitting. Inside: notes, photos, bank logs. A familiar name.
“Belov’s little operation is late with their share,” Pakhan said. “Three weeks, no update. Claims they’re waiting on incoming payments, but I’m not buying it.”
Arms dealer. One of the newer ones.
“You want me to collect?”
“I want you to remind him where his position starts and ends. If he doesn’t transfer by end of week, we’ll make an example. But tonight? Just pressure. A visit. No blood. Yet.”
I nodded once. I don’t usually warn people. I’ll try to be a good soldier, but sometimes bones break when I blink too hard.
Then one of the guards appeared in the doorway. “Sir? Your daughter just returned from school.”
Pakhan’s eyes lit up like he’d forgotten he had a daughter until now. “Good. Tell her to come in.”
I stood by the desk and didn’t move. Didn’t react. But I did wonder what the hell was so urgent that he couldn’t even finish our conversation first.
Two minutes later, the door opened again.
Kira walked in composed and unreadable. When her eyes met mine, they widened—just slightly—then cooled. She wasn’t expecting me here. I wasn’t expecting her either.
“Be ready at seven,” Pakhan said, not looking at her. “You’re going on a date.”
Her head jerked. “What? With who?”
“Stanislav Boychenko.”
I didn’t flinch. But her voice turned venomous.
“You want me to go on a date with fucking Stas? That sleazy parasite—”
Pakhan snapped. “You will call him by his full name. His father is a respectable man.”
Kira’s jaw clenched. “I’m not going anywhere with that creep. No fucking way.”
Pakhan finally turned to face her fully. “Yes, you are. You’ll behave. And if all goes well, you’ll marry him.”
I felt the air change.
“You’ve lost your goddamn mind,” she hissed.
And then he moved.
Walked around the desk, unhurried and precise, crossing the space between them like a shark.
His hand cracked across her face.
The sound echoed like a gunshot.
She staggered back a step, hand flying to her cheek, eyes wide in disbelief. Her breath caught, but she didn’t cry out. Tears welled, but she blinked them back like fire.
And then—she looked at me.
I held her gaze. Face blank. Cold.
Inside, though, something ignited. A slow burn that coiled in my chest and kept climbing.
Why the fuck was I reacting at all? I’d seen worse. Done worse. Killed men with my bare hands and watched their families scream. Put bullets in heads and walked away without blinking. I didn’t give a damn about anyone.
But something about the way she looked in that moment, small and stunned—made my stomach twist. It wasn’t rage driving the slap.
It was punishment. Cold, deliberate punishment handed down to someone who couldn’t fight back.
And just for a second, something cracked.
A memory surfaced—brief and sharp—of fists I couldn’t raise, of silence I had to swallow.
I shoved it down before it could root and I was stone again.
Pakhan turned away from her like nothing happened.
“You’ll wear something nice,” he said. “Something he’ll like.”
My fists clenched behind my back.
I told myself again: this wasn’t my business.
He was her father. He could do what he wanted.
And yet... I understood her better in that moment than I ever had. The fire. The defiance. The way she fought everything like it was a cage, because it was.
She was raised by a monster. Of course she bit.
Still, I said nothing. Did nothing.
Because that’s who I was.
Because once I let myself care—even for a second—I was compromised. Weak. Just another man with a crack in his armor.
So I stayed still, letting the silence stretch, while she wiped away the sting and looked at him like he’d buried her instead of raised her.
Pakhan turned to me again.
“Report back after the meeting with Belov. I want numbers. If he doesn’t play nice, we escalate.”
I nodded. “Understood.”
Kira turned on her heel and walked out without another word.
I watched her go but the burn in my chest didn’t fade.
Pakhan moved behind his desk again and sat, smoothing his shirt cuffs like nothing had happened. Then he looked at me and said, “This is kindness. The man she marries won’t be so forgiving.”
Kindness. That was what he called this. That slap. That threat. That whole performance.
My jaw tightened. Silence was all I gave him, while the idea burned through me that this was his idea of gentle.
My eyes drifted to the door she’d walked out of.
If her future husband might be worse than this bastard, she could be in real danger.
I shouldn’t care. I didn’t care. That wasn’t my role.
And yet… I had to see who this guy was. Just to make sure he wasn’t the kind of man who left bruises where they wouldn’t show.
I left the office, walking out into the cool evening air that smelled faintly of exhaust and wet concrete. Instead of going to do my job, I slipped behind the wheel of the car and sat there—lights off, radio off, the silence stretching around me.
How the fuck did I end up here? Babysitting a girl I wasn’t supposed to look twice at, all because her father was a tyrant and her date might be worse. I am not her savior. I am not soft. But here I was—waiting. Watching. Wasting time I should’ve spent cracking skulls.
Minutes dragged. Then a sleek black Audi rolled up to the front of the mansion, its engine a low, expensive purr. It stopped right by the entrance, polished and smug like everything inside it.
The front door opened, and she stepped out like nothing had happened. Like the slap never landed. Like the world had been made for her and she damn well knew it.
Short black dress. Thin black jacket. Heels that clicked sharp as gunshots.
Fuck.
She looked like everything I didn’t know I wanted until it was walking toward someone else.
Stanislav got out of the driver’s side—medium height, compact and narrow-shouldered, all bones and bravado.
His dark hair, slicked back to his ears, looked like it hadn’t moved in hours.
He walked around the car with that sleazy confidence only rich, skinny men could pull off, bent to kiss her cheek like he had a right to her, and opened the door with a smug little flourish that made me want to knock his teeth down his throat.
I started the car, muscles stiff with fury, and tailed them into the night.
Stanislav took her to Skyline 23, one of those exclusive rooftop lounges for Kyiv’s elite. Members-only. A place with glass walls, leather booths, and overpriced drinks that tasted like perfume and cost more than rent.
I waited until they disappeared inside before I got out of the car.
The hostess spotted me the second I stepped through the door. Her face went pale. She straightened automatically.
“I’ll find my own table,” I said, my gaze already scanning the crowd for Kira and Stanislav. “Bring a beer.”
She swallowed and gave a small nod.
I walked past her and took the table in the far corner, the one half-hidden by a column where the light didn’t quite reach. From there, I had a perfect view of their booth.
I watched them like a fucking predator.
Still as stone. Shoulders squared. Elbows planted on the table, fingers laced together in front of my mouth. My gaze never wavered. Every flicker of her eyes, every roll of her shoulder, every shift of her posture—I tracked it like a sniper.
She looked bored. Not the polite kind of bored—truly, profoundly unimpressed.
Stirring her drink with the straw like she was itching to stab him with it.
Her eyes glazed over as Stanislav talked, his arms moving too much, smile stretching too wide.
I could almost hear his voice from here—loud, obnoxious, full of fake confidence.
And then the bastard tried to feed her.
Picked up a shrimp with two fingers and held it toward her mouth. I saw her freeze. Saw the way her lip curled. She didn’t even swat his hand away—just gave him a look that could’ve set the place on fire.
I clenched my fists under the table. My jaw ached and I nearly got out of my seat.
What would I even do? Drag her out again? Break his jaw?
Calm the fuck down, Maksym.
It was none of my business. None.
I told myself it was about keeping her safe. But that was a lie, and I knew it. I just didn’t want her looking at anyone else like she’d looked at me that night. The night she stood half-naked in her room and challenged me with those wild, unblinking eyes.
God help me.
My phone buzzed on the table, pulling me out of the spiral.
Job was supposed to be done by 8. Boss is asking.
I looked back at her one more time. Still untouched. Still annoyed. Still pretending to listen to that fucker like she didn’t want to leap over the table and leave.
Fine.
He was no threat. Just another idiot with money and no sense.
I stood, gave the table one last glance, and walked out without making a sound. My job was waiting—one I should’ve been at hours ago, if I hadn’t wasted time watching her with him. The reminder hit like a slap of cold water. Enough. Back to work.
—Kira—
Itold myself I was going to be a good girl.