Chapter 9

POV ILYA KRAVTSOV

I managed to take a nap for at most two hours, but that was all I needed to feel my energy being renewed. During missions, I had slept even less than that, training my body for emergency situations.

Alejandra didn’t seem too inclined to fall asleep either, because as soon as I opened my eyes and moved, I found her staring into nothing.

Full of melancholy, her golden eyes seemed heavy, as if that girl weren’t just eighteen years old. She looked like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"You okay, moi rys?" My voice came out as soft as I could make it, though still heavy and hoarse from just waking up.

Slowly, Alejandra turned to face me.

"I'm just thinking..."

"There’s not much we can do. If you want to tell me something about your story..."

She seemed a little surprised that I was interacting. Over the past few hours, since my call with Kolya, I had really become more reserved. The thought of losing my brother’s loyalty was painful. But losing my dignity and honor as a man would be even worse.

It wasn’t Alejandra’s fault, but my unconscious mind ended up taking it out on her. Not to mention the exhaustion.

I felt a little better after sleeping and having a rough outline of a plan, no matter how unpolished it was.

"I always tried to distance myself from reality as much as possible. When I was younger, and we were allowed to get some sun, like condemned prisoners, I would look at the other girls and create a Neverland reality. As if we were there for a different purpose than the real one." She gave a tired smile. "I used to imagine that we were being trained and would be sent to an island where we would never grow up again, and it would be our duty to defend that place."

"That’s a beautiful thought."

Alejandra nodded slowly and then continued:

"As I grew up a little more, my mind started believing that I would be chosen by a prince. Some heir to an unknown kingdom who would make me his princess. We would fall in love, he would set me free, and we would live a fairy tale."

"Hmm," I murmured. There wasn’t much I could say, so I just gave my contribution, encouraging her to go on.

"As the years went by, that changed. From a dreamer, I became rebellious. The years passed, and nothing happened. For a few months, I fought back, became difficult for those who held me captive—and look where that got me. My defiance ended up drawing the attention of your pakhan."

"He’s not my pakhan anymore."

Her eyes widened.

"What do you mean?"

I took a deep breath and turned in bed. Our wrists were still linked by the handcuff, so we ended up facing each other, lying on our sides. I could have freed us, but at that moment, I didn’t think about it. The conversation was more important because, in a way, it was creating a bond between us.

"The moment I decided I would protect you, that I wouldn’t hand you over to Pavel, I turned my back on the Bratva."

Alejandra’s golden eyes widened, her lips parted slightly, but then she sighed, recovering her melancholic expression from before.

"I didn’t want to cause all this."

"It’s not your fault," I replied, shifting again, trying not to show how much all of it was affecting me. "It was my choice. I could have handed you over."

"And why didn’t you?"

At that moment, I cursed myself for being handcuffed to her. I would have gotten up and escaped that closeness. I wasn’t used to revealing my feelings so easily, especially to someone who was practically a stranger.

At the same time, I had never learned to keep control the way Kolya was so capable of doing. Other mafia men I knew had that gift too, but everything in me was intense. Anger, pain, sadness… desire. Nothing was ever halfway. I gave myself completely, and I always struggled not to let that ruin my missions.

I worked my ass off to stay in line.

This was no different, even in a simple conversation with a girl.

Despite my efforts, however, she would undoubtedly be able to read in my eyes how much that subject affected me.

"I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I have a sister a few years younger than you." I paused, closing my eyes and thinking about Tasha’s smile when she saw me, about how innocent she still looked. "Actually, she’s the same age you were when you were taken. I keep thinking about what would happen if some bastard did to her what was done to you."

I clenched my fist so tightly that I could see the knuckles turn white from sheer rage.

I closed my eyes as well, trying to control my emotions before I ended up exploding.

I felt a soft touch on my arm—thin, cold fingers trying to comfort me.

"Nothing will happen to your sister," the girl whispered in her delicious Spanish, which sounded sensual even though she had no intention of making it so.

I opened my eyes and looked at her, seeing the compassion in them. The empathy.

Maybe I had really made the right choice in saving her. She was a girl who didn’t deserve a cruel fate like marrying Pavel.

We kept talking for a while, still in bed, until we needed to eat. I unlocked the handcuffs and ordered a very basic room service since the motel we were in didn’t have much of a menu. It was a beef sandwich for Alejandra and three of the same for me.

As I ate, I could feel her eyes on me, looking surprised at my appetite.

"What?" I grumbled.

"You’re going to get sick eating all that. Aren’t you?"

"This isn’t even half of what I usually eat. Have you seen my size?"

"Oh, yes. I’ve... noticed."

Alejandra quickly lowered her gaze to take a bite of her modest meal, but I saw her raised eyebrows—an expression of... admiration, perhaps?

Apparently, she wasn’t great at hiding her feelings either, and at that moment, I got the impression that, at the very least, she admired me physically.

Which wasn’t bad at all, though it was complicated as hell—especially because I admired her too.

How could I not? She was beautiful. Any man would desire her just by looking at her.

We stayed silent for the rest of the time, and I finally received the message I had been waiting for. It was good that Alejandra had eaten and rested because we could leave immediately.

"Moi rys, please get ready."

She nodded, not asking too many questions. She jumped up, grabbed the dress she had left hanging to dry on a hanger, and ran to the bathroom to change. Meanwhile, I tidied up all traces of our stay in the room.

We had left fake names at the front desk, but even so, Kolya knew me well and could end up predicting my moves.

We got into the car a little later, and she was completely wrapped up in my jacket because the weather had turned much colder. Where we were going, she would need warmer clothes, and I would have to take care of that, but it wasn’t a problem.

"Where are we going?" Alejandra asked shortly after we left the motel. "Did someone find us?"

"No. Not yet. My cousin is lending me a dacha in Zvenigorod."

"A dacha? And where is that?"

I even smiled.

"Dacha is a type of cabin. Zvenigorod is a town west of Moscow. It's small, secluded, and has a large, isolated rural area. That’s where we’ll be staying." I paused, shifting gears and keeping my attention on the road, since the snow was already making it slippery. The last thing we needed was an accident. "At the beginning of spring, it gets pretty cold, and it’s hard to access, but it’ll serve us for a while. After that, we’ll have to think about a longer trip."

"To where?"

"The United States. I have friends there who can help us too. But first, I need to get documents for you."

"And how are you going to do that?"

I smirked.

"I have my contacts. Don’t worry about anything, moi rys. Leave it to me."

She nodded, still not asking me again what the nickname I gave her meant. I hoped it stayed that way.

We had a long road ahead—not just physically on that highway, but also as people.

We were two strangers forced to be confined together, in a risky, emergency situation.

What would that turn us into? Allies or enemies?