Hey

Cynthia shut her eyes for a brief moment, inhaling deeply. It was going to be a long night.

\--------------------

Cynthia stood by the window, her arms wrapped around herself as she gazed out at the vast cityscape of Moscow. The towering buildings, the glittering lights, and the busy streets below— all of it was a stark contrast to the suffocating luxury of the suite she was trapped in. She turned slightly, stealing a glance at Carlos, sprawled out on the massive king-sized bed. His jacket had been discarded carelessly, his tie loosened, and his shoes kicked off near the foot of the bed.

His chest rose and fell steadily, and then—

A loud, deep snore erupted from his lips.

Cynthia almost flinched.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

He was asleep.

Finally.

She let out a shaky breath and whispered to herself, "He's asleep."

For the first time in what felt like forever, a small sliver of relief washed over her. But it was quickly replaced by urgency. This was her chance freedom. The only one she might ever get in a while.

She had to escape.

Taking careful, measured steps, she moved towards the door, her bare feet sinking into the plush floor. Her hands trembled as she reached for the door handle. With a single flick, she pulled it open—

And her stomach dropped.

Carlos's men were still stationed at the entrance, exactly where he had ordered them to be.

Cynthia froze for a fraction of a second, but then she quickly composed herself, forcing a polite, nervous smile onto her face. Her fingers curled around the edge of the door as she pushed it open wider and stepped forward.

"Hello, gentlemen," she greeted awkwardly, giving something almost like a bow.

The men exchanged glances before one of them, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a closely cropped beard, spoke up. "Where to, ma'am?"

Cynthia hesitated but kept her expression neutral. "I just want to take a walk."

The man raised a skeptical brow. "A walk? Where?"

She bit her lower lip. "To wherever."

A second man, slightly shorter but just as imposing, stepped forward. "Then one of us will have to escort you, ma'am. Mr. Carlos wouldn't be too pleased if we allowed his wife to roam the streets of Russia without protection."

Cynthia's jaw tightened. "I don’t need a babysitter."

"We’re not babysitting you, ma’am," the first man responded calmly. "We’re ensuring your safety. Anything could happen in a foreign land."

"And something will happen if you keep me locked in like a prisoner," Cynthia shot back, her voice low but sharp. "I just need some air. Some space. I’m only going down the building to clear my mind. I need to be alone."

The first man, whose name tag read Anderson, exhaled heavily. "I understand, ma’am, but that won’t be possible without an escort. Even if it’s just one of us."

Cynthia took a slow step forward, her gaze locked onto Anderson’s. "No one will be following me. That’s an order."

Anderson’s lips pressed into a firm line. "I’m afraid that’s not possible, ma’am."

Cynthia's eyes darkened. "Who’s challenging my authority?"

Anderson straightened, his posture unwavering. "I am."

"And who are you?"

Anderson didn't give any response.

She pressed further, "What's your name?"

"Anderson," he responded with a sigh.

Cynthia then tilted her head slightly, studying him. "Well Anderson, do you like your job?"

He hesitated. "Very much."

She scoffed. "I don’t think so. If you did, you wouldn’t be standing in my way. Because if you don’t move aside this instant, your job as Carlos’s security detail will be nothing but a memory."

The other guards shifted uncomfortably, exchanging uneasy glances. Anderson, however, remained still, his fingers twitching slightly before he finally spoke. "If I let you leave, I’ll lose my job when the boss finds out. And if I don’t, you’ll have me fired before he even gets the chance. Either way, I lose."

"Smart man," Cynthia said, taking another step closer. "Now, move out of my way."

Anderson exhaled through his nose, his jaw tightening. Then, after a long moment of tense silence, he sighed in resignation and dropped his hand, stepping aside.

Cynthia gave him a small, victorious smirk. "Wise decision."

Then, without another word, she stepped past him and through the door.

"Thank you," she added over her shoulder before stepping into the dimly lit hallway. She walked with purpose, her expression composed, as she embraced the quiet solitude she had fought for.

\---------------------

Cynthia walked with careful, deliberate steps, her heels barely making a sound against the sleek marble floor as she made her way toward the fast-moving electric steel elevator. Her fingers brushed against the cool metal panel as she pressed the button, and with a soft mechanical hum, the doors split open smoothly.

She stepped inside, the doors sealing shut behind her with a quiet whoosh.

Inside the elevator, an elderly blonde woman stood near the mirrored wall, dressed in a casual yet elegant green gown that complemented her pale complexion. She held a tiny Chihuahua in her arms, the little dog’s brown fur soft and well-groomed, its dark eyes alert and curious.

Cynthia caught the woman’s gaze in the reflection, offering her a polite smile as she extended a greeting. “Hey.”