Thudding. I heard it in my ears. Felt it in my chest. The suffocating sensation worsened. Chills ran down my spine. I tried to look unfazed. Feigned ignorance. Glued to the door. His thigh brushed mine. Even through layers, I felt his warmth. Hated it. But in this biting Russian cold, I wished to move closer. The frost bit at my skin. His presence was a fire I couldn't ignore. My breath hitched. Heart raced. Desperation mixed with disdain. I was trapped in a cruel, silent dance. Where he was leading.
The consequences were dangerous. So dangerous, I could see my life flashing before my eyes. Was my end near? I hadn't atoned for my sins yet.
I jumped, startled when the phone rang, the sound piercing the silence of the car. I nearly clung to the window in shock. From my right, a low Russian grumble sent a shiver down my spine. Daring to glance his way, I saw him: a hulking figure with broad shoulders that seemed to dominate the space.
Casually, he lifted his phone, not even looking at the screen as he swiped his thumb across it. The dim moonlight highlighted his stern features and cold, calculating features.
"Надеюсь, у тебя для меня хорошие новости, Карло," he grumbled into the phone, his voice a low, dangerous growl. The amusement and thrill that had been plastered on his face earlier faded into a deep, foreboding gloom. I didn't know who had pissed him off, but ever since I walked out of that washroom, he seemed to be in a heated conversation with Kyle.
(It better be some good news, Carlo.)
Kyle noticed me first, obviously since the demon beside him was blind, his hunter's eyes hidden behind dark shades. I was relieved; at least it didn't feel like he was glaring at me. The tension in the room was palpable, and I could feel the oppressive weight of his anger seeping into my bones.
But that seemed to be the least of my worries right now. Whatever the other person said on the phone only made him angrier. His jaw clenched tightly, the muscles twitching with barely restrained fury, and his fist curled into a tight ball, knuckles white with the pressure.
"Перехватили? Кем?" His voice was sharp, making the hair on the back of my neck erect. I could hear the barely contained rage simmering beneath the surface. He'd snap. And I was sitting next to him. What were the chances his fist would kiss my jaw first, or his knee?
(Intercepted? By whom?)
"Кто-то проговорился. Я хочу имя, и я хочу его получить до того, как доберусь туда." His words dripping with menace. The suddenly small space was not enough, and I couldn't help but shiver.
(Someone talked. I want a name, and I want it before I reach there.)
A haunting pause and I realized my right knee was shaking uncontrollably.
"Времени у тебя нет, Карло. У тебя пятнадцать минут, чтобы найти крысу, иначе ты сам станешь примером."
(Time is not something you can afford, Carlo. In fifteen minutes, you find the rat or become the example.)
"Хорошо, и Карло," His hand moved between us and I watched it with a thudding heart as he placed it on my trembling knee, "если это случится снова, на кону будет не только твоя кровь. Я позабочусь о том, чтобы твоя семья заплатила за твою некомпетентность." I swallowed hard, realising my knee had stopped bouncing. He hadn't looked at me, and he didn't need to. The shades on his weren't doing enough to make him look any less sinister.
(Good, and Carlo, your blood won't be on the line if this happens again. I'll make sure the family pays for your incompetence.)
"Не подведи меня." He ended the call with an unsatisfied growl, his hand on my knee clenched in a fist. The silence that followed was deafening, filled only with my fearful breaths.
(Don't disappoint me.)
Whatever he said, I hardly caught a word. Cause damn me, his Russian was fluent. And his voice seemed to deepen whenever he spoke in his native language. I still had no clue where he was taking me, or what would happen if I decided to fling open the car door and make a dramatic exit. Though the thought was tempting, I wasn't quite ready to become a splat on the highway just yet.
His hand on my knee stayed there, and I sat there alarmed, hugging my bag tighter and sweating in the cold. He didn't move, nor did he make any move to let go of me. The only thing I heard was my pounding heart and the roaring of the car.
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. His expressions were unreadable like always. His grip on my knee was firm, not painful, but a reminder of his control over me. I tried to calm my racing thoughts, to think logically about my options.
"Where are you taking me?" I finally asked, my voice barely more than a whisper. It took all my courage to speak up, to break the heavy silence.
He turned his head slightly, and I hated how I couldn't see what was swirling in his eyes hidden behind the shades. "You'll find out soon enough," he muttered lowly.
His words did little to ease my anxiety, but at least he had answered. I clung to that small piece of hope like a caffeine addict to their morning coffee-maybe today wasn't the day I'd be permanently decaffeinated.
Minutes passed, maybe hours-it was hard to tell. The car eventually slowed down, the scenery outside becoming more familiar. We were approaching the heart of the city. I recognized some of the buildings, the hotel, and a few nearby cafés.
The car came to a stop in front of a large, shimmery hotel. The demon of a man finally removed his hand from my knee. I contemplated my options. Should I open the door and run? He was blind, so it wouldn't be hard to outsmart him, right? Maybe not him. But what about Kyle, who was driving? Even though he wasn't as muscular and tall as Judas, he was still a beast compared to my unhealthy body. I'd bite the dust if he decided to race me.
I weighed my options as I heard the door opening.
"Get out," Judas commanded. I hesitated. I opened the door and stepped out onto the pavement, my legs feeling like jelly. Kyle soon circled the car and handed the cane to Judas. I almost scoffed. Vulnerability didn't suit him. Not when he looked like he was a walking-talking ticking time bomb.
Kyle helped Judas out beside me.
A lazy smirk played on his lips, making me almost forget how to breathe as he extended his hand to me. "I pay you for your work, little bird," he said. The breeze slowly ruffled his perfectly styled hair, as if afraid to disturb his perfection.
"I know my place; you have made it clear," I grumbled, taking his hand in mine.
The moment our skin touched, a surge of current roared through my veins, electrifying every damn neuron. His hand dwarfed mine completely.
I swallowed hard, at the overwhelming size difference between us.
His presence was immense, towering over me, both physically and in every aspect of the word. If he were to stumble and fall, did he really think I'd be able to catch him? The thought seemed almost laughable-if he stumbled, I'd be the first to hit the ground.
I refused to look at him and tugged at his hand. "Shall we?"
He chuckled and twisted my hand in his so that his palm was facing mine, and his fingers intertwined with mine. My eyes widened and the cold in the breeze settled in my bones. W-what was he doing?
"If you keep showing me that attitude, I might have to do something about that." His voice softened as he leaned down. Even though I couldn't see his eyes, I knew if he wasn't blind, he'd be staring intently at me.
Ah, there it was! The threat I'd been waiting for. I was starting to worry-an entire hour had passed without him threatening me! Provoking, threatening, and hurting me were his hobbies, part-time besides being a filthy rich brat.
Maybe he was just out of practice or his threat calendar had a glitch. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
"Все ждут тебя, тарнадет." Kyle mumbled in front of us, and I had to pry my eyes off Judas to look at him. He was wearing the same clothes as earlier, but he seemed somewhat nervous. I nodded and helped Judas as we walked into the hotel.
(Everyone is waiting.)
As we entered the lobby, the magnificence of the hotel struck me anew. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting shimmering reflections on the marble floors. Kyle led the way, his steps quick and purposeful despite his earlier nervousness. The reception area was abuzz with activity, but as soon as people noticed us, a hush fell over the crowd.
"Right this way," Kyle said in English, his voice steady as he guided us toward the elevators. There were two, one with silver lining and the other with gold.
The demon leaned heavily on me. "Don't even think about trying anything," he warned in a low hush.
I ignored his warmth and tried to slip through his caged arms only to be pushed harshly into the gold-rimmed elevator. I almost hit the floor before his arm shot out to wrap like a snake around my waist. "Какая же ты неуклюжая малявка," He muttered and I quickly felt my cheeks burning.
(What a clumsy little thing you are.)
"Y-You can let go," I stuttered, pushing futilely against his arm. My heart pounded loudly, my breaths quickening. His chest pressed against my back, and panic settled in.
My eyes widened, scanning for an escape. Fear gripped me, freezing my thoughts. Why was this happening?
Terror clawed at my mind. I felt trapped, both physically and mentally.
In his suffocating hold, I confronted my deepest fears-losing control, being powerless, unable to protect myself. To my horror, he growled as if he had lost control.
"Kyle." I barely had time to look back at him before I heard the ping of the elevator. It was closing. And it took everything in me to not cry at that moment. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
But before I could have a panic attack, his hold on my waist loosened. I jumped back, only to hit the corner of the elevator. He stood in front of the doors, blocking my escape.
I watched in terror as the doors closed behind him. In an instant, my escape was shut.
I gulped hard. He couldn't be thinking of killing me in this elevator, would he?
And his towering frame didn't help either. Not even the cane in his hand. He couldn't be thinking of beating me with it, now would he?
"Even if you scream, no one can hear you." He took a step close, raised his hand, and took off his shades and tugged them in his blazer pocket. I looked cautiously at him clinging onto the corner surrounded by him and his silhouettes in the mirror walls, as if they'd jump on me and ruin me altogether. I was a cornered animal, and he was the hunter, toying with his prey, savouring the power he held over me.
And then another step and I almost let out a whimper. "I-I didn't do anything."
A blind man had the power to make me want to be blind so that I could not see his volatile eyes.
He casually shrugged his shoulders and took another step forward and I wondered how he knew where I was. Probably his senses were too heightened. Cause there was no other way to explain it.
"For the next two hours, I want you to behave."
Just as I opened my mouth to say something-anything-he was there, closing in on me like a dark cloud. His arm shot out, swift and firm.
Before I could react, both my wrists were captured in his iron grip and pinned against the cold elevator wall. The sensation was electric, sending a jolt of terror through my veins. My skin prickled with goosebumps, and a cold sweat broke out across my forehead.
The only thing my mind could focus on was his closeness. The intense and disturbing warmth of his soft yet rough fingers pressed into my wrists. The soft, manly smell of his skin in the air around me. Leather and sin. The invading pressure of his gaze upon me. What was this?
When I failed to respond, the fingers of his left hand trailed across my jacket and slipped under the jacket, underneath my right breast, the fabric of my sweater suddenly feeling too transparent. My breath hitched, something I shouldn't feel bubbled in my stomach.
My knees buckled, and my chest rose up and down frantically. Too close. He was too close. I took a sharp breath and leaned away from his touch, forcing my eyes shut into the skin of my raised arms.
His lips caressed the shell of my ear. "Are you going to behave, or must I force you to?"
I mustered up my courage and nodded. "Y-yes."
I felt his lips curling against my ear, and then his fingers held my chin. I felt him lean into me. My whole body burning. "Yes?" He repeated mockingly. "Yes, you will behave? Or yes, I have to force you again?"
My heart raced. I felt his breath on my cheek. There was suddenly not enough air to breathe, not enough space to store it. "Or you're just going to be a problem for me."
"I-I will behave." I stammered.
I knew he smiled, though I couldn't see it. A shiver, magnetic pulled me towards him, and ran through my veins.
He kissed me softly on the cheek. I thought I whimpered. Then he released me and stepped away leaving me paralysed even after I heard the elevator door open.
I lost my balance, my knees buckled and my whole body trembled as I fell onto my knees.
******