I ran.
As far as my feet could take me.
My limbs throbbed with pain and my chest burned as I frantically pressed the buttons on the elevator. Shadows flickered behind me, and every noise sent shivers down my spine. The silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of my ragged breathing.
To my horror, it terrified me more when I didn't see him or Kyle after me.
It was like he was giving me time to run, knowing that in the end, he'd come find me.
My heart pounded even harder. The elevator doors creaked open with an eerie groan, and I stumbled inside, pressing the close button repeatedly. The doors finally closed, and I collapsed against the wall, sliding down to the floor, crying and groaning.
Why? Why did it have to be me?
I buried my face in my palms, my lips throbbing painfully where the demon of a man had bitten me. The memory of his cold eyes and cruel smile was enough to shake me to the core. In less than a few hours he had turned my life upside down.
With each second that passed, I could feel him getting closer, even if he wasn't there. His presence lingered like a dark shadow in my mind. My sobs echoed in the confined space. I could almost hear his voice whispering in my ear, promising that no matter where I went, he would find me.
I had to get away. I had to survive. But deep down, I feared it was already too late.
This was just a game. And he enjoyed every second of it.
It was making sense now. Why his mansion had no other soul… he had everything planned from the very start. He strategically asked me to sleep with him knowing I'd refuse, and then he framed me for the murder. Murder? I stilled. He was covered in blood that day when he was with that woman. He wasn't what he looked like. What were the chances he was a murderer? I was damn sure it was him. And about my family, he had enough money and power to get that information.
It nauseated me to believe he went to such lengths to trap me. What had I ever done to him?
Again, there was no rationalising the psychos. Apathetic, unhinged, overbearing bastard.
He'd definitely come after me. It just wasn't in his nature to not chase. He enjoyed a good challenge. I could see it in his eyes. Those damned eyes.
The elevator opened, and I stood on my shaky legs as people looked at me as if I was a freak. I ran my hand through my hair, patting it down, and took deep breaths. Then I suddenly stilled. Guards. There were guards looking around with their hands pressing on their earpieces as they muttered something. My throat dried.
There was no way they were looking for me, right? Maybe… maybe not. I didn't have the courage or strength to find out, so I quietly got back into the elevator and pondered hard. I couldn't leave through the main entrance. My eyes fell upon the buttons.
Parking lot.
I could leave through there.
I pressed the button and the doors closed. The elevator descended, and I tried to calm my racing heart. I needed a plan, and I needed it fast.
The ride down felt agonizingly slow, each floor passing like an eternity. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I forced myself to focus. There had to be a way out.
The elevator dinged open to the parking level, I cautiously peeked out. The dimly lit underground garage was mostly empty, with a few cars scattered here and there. I stepped out, sticking close to the walls, and scanned the area for any signs of guards or surveillance.
Suddenly, I heard voices speaking rapid Russian from the other side of the large parking basement. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to make out what they were saying. The exit was nowhere in sight, and panic began to set in. My breaths came in quick, shallow gasps, and sweat trickled down my temples. I ducked behind a car, my hands trembling as I tried to steady myself.
The voices grew louder, the grumble of conversation echoing through the garage. They sounded suspicious, and I could almost feel their eyes searching for me. Crawling behind the cars, I prayed they wouldn't find me. To my relief, after a minute or so, the voices began to drift away. One of the men said something in Russian, and they moved off in the opposite direction.
I exhaled shakily, attempting to calm myself, though it seemed impossible.
What should I do now?
If I stayed here, they might come back and take me back to him. Just as I was about to stand up, I heard a ding from the elevator.
My blood ran cold, and I stiffened.
Looking around frantically, I spotted a large Lamborghini truck parked a few feet away. There was enough space underneath to hide. Without thinking, I crawled toward it and ducked underneath, my heart hammering in my chest.
The garage fell silent except for the echo of footsteps.
My eyes widened as I peeked out from under the truck. Through my limited vision, I saw polished brown leather shoes and long legs clad in dark pants. His steps were predatory, slow and without any rush. And in his one hand, I saw a small shiny object. My eyes widened as I recognized him instantly.
I muffled my whimpers with my palms, shutting my eyes tightly.
No.
No, no, no.
Don't make a noise! Don't make a noise! Don't make a noise!
I screamed internally as his footsteps echoed. My heart thudded loudly in my ears, and my limbs ached from trembling. I couldn't afford to be seen by him, not when he was chasing me down the parking lot with a damn blade in his hand. He was dangerous, far too risky. How could I have been so blind?!
I shouldn't have provoked him. I knew it wouldn't end well for me. He'd find me and then kill me. He promised that. He vowed to inflict pain on me. How the hell did I get myself in this situation? I was supposed to play hide and seek with my assignments and not with this crazy man.
I held my breath as his footsteps grew closer menacingly. I could almost hear his disturbed laughter in my head haunting me. He was a psycho, an unbalanced man who took pleasure in the hunt and relished the fear he instilled in his prey. My breath hitched as I tried to stay silent, praying he wouldn't find me.
What startled me most was how he could walk in here without his cane. My eyes widened in realization. Did... did I assume everything wrong? There was no way he could see, right?
I strained to listen, my mind racing with confusion and terror. Had he been faking it all along? The thought sent a new wave of panic coursing through me. If he could see, if he had been pretending, I was in even more danger than I'd imagined.
My all fears faded and converted into one as his voice cut through the silence making my bones chill. "I know you're here, ptichka," he taunted.
My blood ran cold. This wasn't just a game to him-it was a twisted hunt, and I was his prey. The air felt suffocating, the walls closing in as I tried to steady my breathing. This closed space was doing no good. I couldn't possibly tackle down a man twice my size and thrice my weight with a blade in his hand. And even if I did, what was the possibility I could leave this country?
A scream bubbled in my throat.
The polished leather shoes stopped right in front of the truck. I held my breath, squeezing my eyes shut, hoping against hope that he wouldn't look down.
If and only if I could turn back the time and never come to Russia. Only if I was never born. This man was cruel. He sliced the throat of a man and framed me for it, and now he was chasing me down.
"Come out, ptichka, there's nowhere you can go." His giggled as I held my breath. "Or do a better job at hiding, 'cause if I find you, I'll ruin you."
I couldn't believe the man who deceived me. Off all the times I embarrassed myself and pitied him. He pretended to be blind, he deceived me!
Suddenly, he let out a sigh, and to my shocking relief, he turned around and started walking the other way. Did he... give up? I watched silently, afraid he could hear my heart pounding. Then he disappeared behind the pillars on the other side. It took me a minute to make sure he was really gone. I couldn't see him. I let out the breath I had been holding.
I planted my hands on the rugged cemented floor as I tried to pull myself from under the truck.
Patience. I should've had patience. Cause the next second I regretted being born.
It all happened in just a second. A scream echoed in the basement-mine. A hand wrapped around my ankle, and I was dragged out of my hiding spot, my hand desperately and instinctively moved to grab something and nails scratched against the cemented floor, one breaking in the process, but that didn't matter, the pain couldn't suppress the terror.
He manhandled me, twisting my ankle with a brutal force that sent a jolt of pain shooting up my leg. His grip was ironclad, merciless. As he dragged me out from under the truck, my skin scraped against the rough concrete, adding to the agony.
My whole body froze when he pressed the cold, sharp blade against my throat, the metal biting into my skin just enough to draw a thin line of blood. His face was mere inches from mine, and he grinned. His dimples, which might have seemed charming to anyone else, made him appear even more psychotic. Eyes glinted with a twisted pleasure, and his grin sinisterly widened.
Hot breath fanned my face, faintly of cigarettes and something raw. The dimples deepened and his eyes, once pretending to be unfocused, were now sharp and piercing, locking onto mine with a predatory gleam.
"Found you, ptichka," he whispered. "Now it's time to play."
His eyes, for the first time, focused and not wavering and I realized he was not blind.