Venomous Desires (Blind Desires #1)
Prologue
The biting Russian cold welcomed her as she stepped off the plane.
It clung to her senses, contrasting with the warmth of Texas. She thought leaving behind the suffocating struggles would ease her stress. Instead, it only fuelled her anxiety.
She still didn’t know what she was doing there or how she had ended up in Russia. Her only answer was the scholarship letter and three hundred dollars that she had exchanged at the airport earlier.
Though her tuition fee and dorm were included, she still had to pay for yearly semester fees and living expenses.
A sigh left her lips with mist as she dragged the luggage to the exit. The paper in her hand was wrinkled as she read the address written on it: Star Square-lane 25-building 56. She wondered how far it was.
Her heart raced as she clutched the strap of her worn backpack.
It was her first time visiting a foreign land all alone.
But this time, she had to. Her mother was the one who convinced her to take the scholarship test at Moscow University, and even though she was ready to fail, fortunately, she’d somehow got in.
It was a startling surprise for both of them. She had two days to pack her stuff and leave for Russia. Her mother borrowed some money, and despite her refusal, insisted on buying her woollen scarves and a thick coat.
A small curve formed on her lips as she looked down at the maroon scarf. It was a handmade-limited edition, she might say, since her mother had knitted it herself in two days. All this made her reason for coming here more valid.
Just two years. To pay back all the debt and loans they owed, she had to become the responsible daughter. She couldn’t let her mother suffer anymore.
As she crossed the unfamiliar streets, the chill seeped through her coat. The receptionist had said she’d find the cabs on the other side of the street. She found a yellow cab with a man inside looking not happy.
“Can you take me to this address?” she spoke in broken Russian. Though her knowledge of the language was limited, she knew a few basic words, not entire sentences.
The driver with a gruff beard and a big fleece jacket looked her up and down, his eyes narrowing at the address. “It’s far from here.”
Her stomach tightened. “How much?”
“7,890 roubles.”
Her breath hitched. Almost ninety dollars. She’d barely have anything left.
“6,000?” she tried, desperation creeping into her voice.
The man dragged on his cigarette, eyeing her. “7,000. No more, no less.”
Swallowing her frustration, she nodded. So much for negotiation.
“All right.”
He put her luggage in the trunk, and she got in. The inside of the car was warmer than the outside as she settled in. Her legs ached as she tried to stretch them. The driver rounded the cab before turning the radio on.
“…fifteen have died and some bodies are missing. Sources suggested a brewing power struggle within the country’s underworld, though officials refuse to comment,” the reporter said. Despite the restricted familiarity with the language, Seraphina caught on to a few words. 15 have died.
She prayed for their souls.
“Power struggle, my ass,” the driver grumbled, taking a turn.
Sera focused on the buildings outside as the news kept playing in the background. She peered out of the window, the lights of Moscow shining brightly. A nervousness gripped her. She was already missing Texas’s warmth.
The tall buildings of this new metropolitan looked like giants reaching for the sky, unlike the small, cosy houses she was used to living in. Cars rushed by, and people hurried along the sidewalks.
While the city seemed alive and exciting, the radio in the background told a different story.
“Meanwhile, billionaire heir Judas Romanovski made a rare public appearance today, his first in over two years. Speculations swirl around his growing influence in the underworld, but no official accusations have been made.”
“Where you from, girl?” the driver asked in a thick English accent, jolting her up. Sera glanced at him.
“The States,” she replied, her voice barely audible over the hum of the absurdly loud engine. The driver spared her a quick glance through the rear-view mirror as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
He shook his head, his rough features contorting into a grimace. “Should have stayed there,” he muttered under his breath.
Unsure of what the man meant, she let out a sigh and blocked out the news reporter.
The more she heard, the more anxious she was getting.
Calm down. There was no way she’d caught herself among all that danger.
She was just a student. From the dorms to classes and repeat.
Get a part-time job and stay away from trouble.
The car took a sudden turn, slowing down before coming to a halt. Sera looked around as they stopped in front of a fancy building. It took her off guard. This couldn’t be the dorms? She uncurled the paper in her hand and read the address again. Star Square-lane 25-building 56.
“We are here,” the driver grumbled, perpetually unhappy with something.
Nodding, she got out of the taxi., feeling the cold air hitting her face and neck immediately.
“Get your luggage.”
“What-oh!” Feeling stupid, she quickly ducked in and grabbed her bag along with a smaller one. “Spasibo.”
The driver gave her a look and then turned around. She blinked, unsure if she had offended him somehow. She knew that thank you was Spasibo in Russian. Did she somehow misinterpret it?
“Beware of snakes, there’re more in winter.”
Sera frowned. Be careful of... snakes?
She watched as the taxi drove away. Something strange settled in her chest. She couldn’t pinpoint it, but it was there nonetheless. A feeling of something close to fear. As if being… watched.
Turning around, she let her eyes follow the lane. It was empty.
She kept looking at the empty road for another moment before blinking away with a shake of her head. She was over-thinking again.
Calming her heart, she swallowed hard and brushed away the sensations, focusing her attention on the building. These two years would take long, she could feel already.
Her clutch on the bags tightened, and with a determined sigh, she got ready to face whatever would come her way.