THIRTEEN

My big friend didn’t seem as scary as he was anymore.

Viktor was far scarier.

Behind him, my big friend, Bonnie—weird name for a man but what Viktor had called him that, watched me. He looked relieved that he wasn’t the one handling me anymore at least. I wasn’t in the living room as I’d thought, I was in a bedroom. Viktor’s bedroom, I presumed.

The lights everywhere. Too bright. The ache in my head intensified with each passing second, I couldn’t get used to lights being this bright so I kept squinting. My migraines caused pain to pulsate in my temples like I was being repeatedly hit by a hammer.

Viktor stood there, his amusement barely concealed as he looked at me with a cold, unblinking intensity. Then, as if suddenly bored, his gaze shifted. He shot a quick glance behind him at Bonnie. “Leave,” he said—just one word, calm and quiet, yet with a finality that brokered no argument.

Without hesitation, Bonnie, a massive man easily twice Viktor’s size, left the room without protest, as if he’d just been dismissed by royalty. The sight was both strange and unnerving. Viktor’s slight frame, practically swallowed by the oversized clothing, gave no outward impression of power—yet his words commanded absolute obedience.

The door clicked shut behind Bonnie, and I caught the faint sounds of shuffling and murmuring outside. Through the walls, I could hear whispers between the men who’d been here moments before, one voice rising in uneasy protest. “Alone with the girl?”

“Alone with the girl!” Bonnie confirmed, his tone resigned but certain. Footsteps retreated, leaving just Viktor and me alone in the cavernous room.

I sat in silence, feeling the ropes bite into my wrists, as Viktor watched me with cool detachment. He continued to bite into his apple, taking his time, each crunch unsettling in the thick quiet that settled around us. It was like he was savouring both the fruit and the moment. The seconds stretched between us, each tick of time heavy with unspoken tension.

When he finally finished the apple, he let his gaze drift from me and moved further into the room. I took in the vast space—the king-sized bed, a plush sofa set, and a sprawling dining table lined with fruits that looked as out of place here as he did. He grabbed another apple, glanced at me across the room with a sly, derisive smirk, and approached with slow, deliberate steps.

“Apple?” he offered, holding it out mockingly. His gaze fell to my bound wrists, his smirk widening as he chuckled darkly. “Oh, right, you can’t.”

I watched him, bristling with frustration. My voice broke out before I could hold it back. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

He turned on his heel, eyes narrowed, as if he couldn’t believe I’d dared to speak. “What?” he asked, the single word layered with an unexpected note of surprise, as if he had never encountered someone talking back.

“Yes.” I said again, this time straining each word. “Was that supposed to be funny, Viktor?”

“Oh.” He quickly got over the shock. “You talk now?”

“Of course I do and you know it….” I took a breather, my head pounding intensely. “You took that boy’s life—”

“I didn’t.” He jumped to defend himself. “I didn’t. I brought you here—”

“Yes. Let’s talk about that!” I yelled, twisting in my seat, thrashing around, wanting to be free. The pain searing through my wrists was too painful to bear and I wanted out. “Let’s talk about why you sent your men to bring me here! My body aches! And I’m tired. And I just want out of here. You have no right. No right, Viktor, to just pluck me out of that party as if you own me! You people need to stop acting like that. As if I'm a property that can be moved and shipped from one place to another.” I wheezed between every word. “You need to stop making decisions for me! I’m not a child. Viktor, I saw you kill that boy as well, I’m not a child.”

I was left breathless after my words. My chest burned and felt raw, and my lungs clogged with held in sobs. In all sincerity, I was tired, fed up to the brim. And if Viktor wanted to end me, he might as well have his gun to my head and have me killed rather than the long wait. The pain, the all encompassing pain starting to envelope me was getting too much to bear and adapt to. My head ringing. My jacket were rolled up at the sleeves and the ropes were tied too tighly to my wrists, leaving red ugly marks on my pale skin, it was going to leave ugly bruises and then I would nurse them for days.

If I survived today.

If Viktor let me survive.

But now, he looked pissed—beyond pissed.

The apples dropped from his hands and into the wooden floor. With simultaneous bounce, they disspeared out of sight, underneath two couches opposite each other. Viktor took a step forward, breaking the tension.

“Viktor, not Victor.” He said, gritting his teeth, his jaw sharp. “My name’s Viktor, not Victor.”

“Uh?” I asked, dumbly.

He stepped closer, amd crouched down, till his face were mere inches from mine. His nose brusjed my skin, tenderly, softly, and I felt his breath fan my cheeks. “If you’re going to scream my name. Scream it correctly.”

I gulped audibly.

“My name is Viktor…” accent quoted the pronoucation of his name. “Not Victor.”

I pulled away, stunned by the absurdity of his correction. “Vi-victor…”

“Vik-tor…” he corrected. I gasped audibly when his palms pressed againt my bare thighs. Softly, very gently, he leaned his weight into me. His breath. I could smell his breath. I could smell his breath. And it wasn’t weed. Wasn’t alcohol. Wintergreen gum? Was this man chewing gum? “Viktor.”

I gulped again. “Viktor.”

He pulled away, looking satisfied. “Good…” Viktor backpaddled, his eyes trained on me. Watching me still, without averting his gaze. He leaned into the couch, and behind the a throw pillow, he provided a gun. The second I’d seen today. He raised it and without hesitation, lifted it in the air. Three steps forward and the cold surface pressed againt my forehead. “And now, without screaming, tell me who sent you…” the tirgger clicked and his head tilted to the side with a smirk. “And the boy.”

This threat were getting exhausting. I glared at him. “Go ahead.” I dared. “Shoot me. Get this over with it right now.”

He pressed the gun harder against my skin.

“Talk!” he growled.

I wasn’t backing down. “I have nothing to say.”