The prey

I paced back and forth, my feet sinking into the soft carpet, but the pressure in my chest made me feel like I was suffocating. Guttural noises filled my ears. And I realised it's my breathing.

The room felt too small. The walls too close, and the silence was too loud. My fingers tugged at the ends of my sweater, twisting the fabric between them as if it might help me think, help me breathe.

But it still didn't. I was not doing anything wrong. Then why was I feeling this way? Every second that ticked by crawled beneath my skin, making it harder to keep still. My heart was a wild animal caged in my ribcage, hammering against my chest.

I've been up for past some hours now. And the fact that I could still hear Ivan's words in my ears should be alarming. Was I really thinking of going against Judas? The Judas Romanovski? What was I thinking? He'd grill me raw, maybe have a bite or two to make sure he could taste my fear on his tongue.

Ivan said his brother was a big-shot, but was he really as big as Ivan claimed him to be? Damn it!

My hands threaded through my hair and I wanted to pull them. I'd never ever think of going against Judas in this life time of upcoming lives, cause I know what that man wa made of, but this life…. I looked around. This life was not mine. It was not even a life. A prisone. Gilded cage. Where is wait for longer to arrive and feast on me.

Pain and humiliation. That's what he had ever offered me.

But did I want him to inflict more of that? No. No, no, no.

I attempted to calm my heart but I couldn't.

A sharp knock on the door made me freeze.

I turned, eyes locking on the entrance just as Kyle's deep voice cut through the silence. "Come out, food's ready."

And him. How would I distract him? There was no way he'd let me leave even if I cry. What was Ivan thinking?

I swallowed, but my throat was too dry. I didn't want food, but I knew Kyle wouldn't leave it alone if I refused. Fixing my hair, I entered the dining area and saw him placing plate of freshly cut fruits and pancakes in the table.

I was about to tell him I was not hungry when his phone rang. He frowned, glancing at the screen before answering it.

I watched him, trying to read his face, but Kyle's expressions were always a damn mystery. His eyes darted toward me once before he turned slightly, his voice low and terse as he spoke to whoever was on the other line. A few moments later, he hung up, his gaze falling back on me.

"I have to leave for a few hours," clipped words echoed. "Stay in the suite. It's Sunday. You don't have classes. Don't go anywhere."

As if I could if he lock the door.

My stomach twisted, the confusion tightening inside me like a knot. Kyle was always hovering, breathing down my neck. How was Ivan supposed to get me out of here when Kyle was so... present?

I nodded stiffly as Kyle grabbed his jacket and left without another word, the door clicking shut behind him. The silence returned, heavier now. I stood there, feeling the cold fingers of anxiety creep up my spine. I wasn't alone. Not really. Ivan was waiting-somewhere.

What do I do?

Minutes passed, maybe more, and then the doorbell rang. My heart skipped a beat, and I stilled, my breath catching in my throat as the doorknob twisted.

Panic surged through me and a wave of confusion and fear crashed into my chest. My breath hitched, fingers twitching as the weight of dread settled over me. Who it could be? Did Kyle returned?

The door creaked open slowly like the prelude to something dangerous. A man stepped inside I didn't recognise.

Tall, built like someone who had seen too much violence and caused even more. Broad shoulders stretched his black jacket, and the coldness in his eyes made the hair on the back of my neck rise. A buzz cut and few tattoos on his hands and neck.

For a moment, we just stared at each other. My heart thudded painfully in my chest. "Who are you?" I stuttered taking a step or two back before I stumbled.

He didn't bother answering. Instead, his gaze flicked over me, assessing, dismissing. "Follow me."

It wasn't a request.

"No," I blurted out, trying to make my voice firm, but the tremor betrayed me. The word barely held any weight and my fear bled through my bones.

The man's eyes narrowed slightly, not with anger, but with something worse-boredom. Like my resistance was predictable, pathetic. "Ivan sent me," he said, his tone flat, devoid of any care for what I wanted.

I flinched at the name. Ivan. The one person I couldn't shake, the one who always had a plan. My mind scrambled, the instinct to protect myself battling the suffocating control Ivan had over me.

"But Kyle-" I started, hoping against hope that the bodyguard breathing down my neck might somehow stop this.

The man's smirk was small, mocking, as if the mention of Kyle amused him. "He won't bother you for some hours," he cut in, his voice dismissive, almost like Kyle didn't matter. "Come."

I froze. The weight of his words sank in, cold and hard. Kyle was gone.

I searched the man's face, hoping to find a crack, a hint of something human that I could appeal to. But there was nothing. Just a wall of indifference. He wasn't here to ask, to persuade. He was here to take.

Every instinct screamed at me to stay, to hide, but this was my last hope. Either I take it or leave it. Ivan always knew where I was, what I was doing.

With shaky breath and leaden feet, I moved and nodded.

He assessed me and then motioned me to walk in front.

We moved quickly, quietly. I was aware of every small sound, every echo of our movements as we navigated the corridors, sneaking through back exits and hallways I hadn't even known existed. I was damn sure Kyle would come storming in and would drag me back, but neither Kyle came or I saw any bodyguard.

It was too easy, too smooth. Kyle would've noticed if something was wrong, wouldn't he? He always noticed everything. Yet here I was, slipping through the building like a ghost, unseen.

Outside, a car was waiting, its sleek black form blending into the shadows of the fog. The stranger opened the door, and as I was about to enter, I froze.

There, sitting inside, was Ivan.

His face lit up when he saw me, a smile that was too warm, too welcoming for the icy dread coiling in my stomach.

"Seraphina," he whispered softly.

I hesitated, my feet rooted to the ground, but the man behind me stepped closer, and I had no choice but to slide into the car.

Ivan wasted no time. The moment I was in, he pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me like chains. I tensed immediately, my body rigid against him, but he didn't seem to notice. His hand brushed through my hair, his breath warm against my ear. "I've missed you," he whispered, like he actually believed it. Like he cared.

But I didn't relax. I couldn't. His touch made my skin crawl, and my heart raced faster, as though it knew this wasn't affection. It was control.

Ivan's hold loosened, but not by much, and when I pulled back slightly, I saw something I hadn't expected. Tears. Real, glistening tears in his eyes.

"I was so worried," he choked out.

I blinked, my mind spinning. Was this real? Ivan, crying?

He reached for me again and his fingers gently brushed my cheek. "I was afraid something might happen to you." His lips trembled, and the sincerity in his eyes threw me off balance. The Ivan I knew was cold, calculating. This-this felt wrong. Like a mask he'd worn so many times he'd convinced himself it was real.

I didn't know how to react, didn't know if this was part of his game or if I'd somehow misjudged him all this time.

We drove for what felt like hours, the city lights fading into darkness until we pulled up to an abandoned building. I tensed, alarm bells ringing in my mind. This wasn't the park Ivan had promised.

"This isn't-"

"Change of plans," his voice was colder now, the warmth from earlier fading into something harder. I nodded.

My stomach twisted as I followed him inside. The place was crawling with men, all dressed in black, their eyes cold and calculating as they watched us. Each of them was armed, their presence a silent threat. And I wanted to flee. What had I gotten myself into?

I didn't belong here. Regret gnawed at me but my feet kept moving, and my mind screamed to run.

Walk into the lion's den, and be prepared for the claws. But in my situation, I was trapped between two lions.

"Master Morozov." One of the men bowed as he opened the door. This building looked abandoned. But few parts were renovated. Including the room we stepped in.

Unconsciously I shifted under his cold gaze and hid behind Ivan. "Henri,"

"Старший мастер Морозов ждет тебя," the man bobbed his head towards the door. Ivan patted on his shoulder and I was dragged inside even though every nerve and cell in my body screamed at me to run. Run and never look back. Run to where devil was. Because I knew, for some reason, whatever or whoever was inside, was devil's worshipper.

(Elder Master Morozov is waiting for you inside.)

The oppressive air hit my face, chilling my bones. My eyes darted around for any danger and that's all I could see as far. Men around the room, holding weapons, wearing black, tattoos, and that's when I realise how sophisticated Kyle looked in comparison to them.

Kyle.

Would he look for me? Or was he looking for me at this moment?

But that was least of my worries, I needed to get out of here. I stumbled as Ivan pulled me forward and my chest hit his back as a groan left my mouth.

Damn.

"Bratishka," I heard Ivan muttering. Confused I side stepped him and followed his gaze.

(Brother.)

In middle of the room sat a man on the chair. His face was sharp, his eyes darker than the universe outside. He wore a thick fur coat, and a scarf around his neck. Deep blue suit, and a small blade in his fingers he was playing with.

And that scar-a deep, jagged line that ran from his forehead to his jaw-made him look like a man who had faced death and laughed in its face.

I did not like the man.

Everything around me stilled for a second and I knew who he was. Ivan's brother.

Dark eyes met mine. Lips tilted in a curve and his fingers stilled. Head tilted to side as he assessed me. "Ты принес ягненка."

(You brought the lamb.)

My brows narrowed as I fisted Ivan's sweater tightly and looked at him. "What is he saying?"

Ivan did not looked at him, his eyes were on his brother the whole time and something shifted. "Welcoming you."

I swallowed and nodded.

Before I could react, he stood up from his chair. I flinched as he put the blade in his pocket and adjusted his fur coat before taking a step down the stair. There was something about him that screamed danger and I instantly panicked.

"It's my pleasure to have you here, Ms Rosewoods." The man spoke taking slow step forward all while I struggled to breathe. He wouldn't harm me. He wouldn't harm me.

I kept repeating till he stood he front of us. Ivan standing between us. And with this angle, he looked taller than everyone in the room.

Thin lips curled in a soft smile. The scar made him look deadly as he extended his hand. "Lucius Morozov."

I looked at his hand and then at Ivan who nudged me forward. I took his hand but he squeezed it. This man was more than I expected. There was a similarity between him and Judas I couldn't pin point it but it was there.

They way he looked at me. Like I was some kind of toy.

"S-Seraphina… Rosewood." I muttered.

To my surprise he lifted my hand and place a kiss of my knuckles. "Beautiful name… for a beautiful woman." I looked startled at him as he pulled me with him. "Come, have a seat with me."

Ivan wa still behind and I couldn't help but notice how his whole demour had changed ever since we stepped inside the room. "Ivan-"

Lucius turned me towards him and walked in front, leading towards the back of the room leading to another door. "Don't worry. My little brother will join us too." I nodded though I could still feel chills. "Ramik, bring some vodka for the lady."

"I don't drink." He led us into another room. This was a lot warmer. More lights and cozy. A small glass table in side with four chairs around it.

Lucius pulled out a chair and motioned me to sit.

"Oh, but you will," I sat observing as he rounded the table as Ramik came back with a bottle of vodka and two glasses. "I mean, it's rude to refuse alcohol in Russia."

I fidgeted with my hands nervously. I shouldn't be here. Oh god, what was I even doing here?

"Relax, you're safe here."

"Can… can we make it quick? I… I have…"

"Kyle Molotov won't look for you," I stilled hearing the familiar name."I gave him a better task to do." He passed a glass towards me. "He won't know you're here. No one can."

His eyes bore into me. "So, how long has it been?"

"What do you mean?"

"This… and this." He motioned to my neck. "A passionate lover he is."

I covered my neck. "He's not my lover."

"Then what is he?"

"I… I don't know… that's why I'm here. I need to go back to Texas and he–"

"He framed you for Donatello Marino's murder, didn't he?"

"How do you…"

"I know everything. You are in his debt, aren't you? Contract breeching? Carlo Masschuti's murder and five other men few days ago. He's keeping you captive, isn't he, little one?"

"I… I didn't kill anyone…"

"Oh, you poor thing, I know you haven't. You're too innocent to kill a man." "But men like Judas… they never stop at one murder."

"What do you mean?"

Lucius's eyes gleamed with a chilling mix of pity and calculation, his hand resting casually on the back of my chair. "You see, Ms. Rosewood, men like Judas Romanovski thrive in chaos. They wrap their chains around you so tightly, you start to believe there's no way out."

My breath hitched at the sound of Judas's name. Lucius stepped closer, his presence heavy and suffocating, though his voice remained calm and persuasive. "He's trapped you, hasn't he? Kept you in a cage built from fear, loyalty, and twisted love. You're a pawn in his game, and you don't even see the full board."

I wanted to deny it, to tell him he was wrong, but the words stuck in my throat. Judas had manipulated me before, hadn't he? Framed me, pushed me into dark corners. How much did I truly know about his plans?

Lucius lowered himself into a chair with an air of authority, gesturing for me to sit across from him. My legs felt like lead as I reluctantly sank into the seat, my hands twisting nervously in my lap.

"I know men like Judas very well," Lucius continued, his tone almost gentle now. "They keep their secrets close and their enemies closer. But what about you, Seraphina? You're neither his enemy nor his ally. You're… collateral. An innocent caught in his web of lies."

He paused, letting the silence settle between us like a weight. "But I could help you, you know. Free you from his grasp. Give you back control of your life."

"How?" I managed to whisper, even though everything inside me screamed that this was a trap.

Lucius leaned forward, his scar twisting slightly with the curve of his smile. "Information, babochka. That's all I need. The truth about him, his movements, his plans. You're close to him-closer than anyone else. And you could help me stop him."

(Butterfly.)

"I… I can't," I stammered. "If he finds out-"

"He won't," Lucius interrupted smoothly. "Judas underestimates you. He sees you as something fragile, something to be protected or controlled. But I see more than that." His eyes flicked to Ivan, who stood silently, his face expressionless. "You have power, Seraphina. You're in the perfect position to turn the tables on him."

I shook my head, fear tightening my chest. "I don't know anything. He doesn't tell me-"

"But you observe," Lucius countered, his voice soft yet insistent. "You notice things, don't you? The way he talks, the names he drops, the phone calls at odd hours. You've already started to piece together the puzzle, haven't you?"

My mind raced, fragments of conversations and late-night whispers flashing through my memory. Had I been noticing more than I realized?

Lucius smiled, sensing my hesitation. "You don't have to decide now. But think about it. You could be the one to bring him down, to end his reign of terror before more lives are ruined. Imagine… finally being free of him."

"I don't want to betray him," I muttered, my voice barely audible.

Lucius's eyes hardened for just a second, then softened again. "It's not betrayal, Seraphina. It's survival. You're not the first woman Judas has used, and you won't be the last. The difference is, you have a choice. You can be the one to walk away, to save yourself before it's too late. Or you can stay in the shadows, letting him control every part of your life."

He paused, his voice dipping lower, more intimate. "Think about Texas. Think about your future. Do you really want to live under the thumb of a man who sees you as nothing more than a possession? Or do you want to take control and write your own fate?"

I swallowed hard, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and fear. Lucius's words wrapped around me like a noose, tightening with each passing second. Could I really do it? Could I spy on Judas, gather information for Lucius, and then… what? Walk away?

"I… I need time," I finally said, my voice shaky.

"Of course," Lucius agreed, standing up slowly, towering over me once more. "Take all the time you need. Just remember, Seraphina-men like Judas don't give second chances. But I do."

He glanced at Ivan, who remained stoic and silent. "Make sure she's taken care of, little brother."

With that, Lucius turned and walked away, his fur coat brushing against the floor, leaving me sitting there in the oppressive silence.

I felt Ivan's hand on my arm, steadying me as I stood, my legs weak beneath me. His eyes, though calm, carried a warning, but he said nothing. We both knew Lucius wasn't the type of man to offer mercy twice.

And now… now I was caught between two devils.