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“S-Sofiya? Is that you?”
The voice sliced through the room.
My head snapped up, heart pounding painfully against my chest.
I spun around quickly, nearly losing my balance, scanning the room.
It was a voice I’d recognize anywhere.
“M-mama?”
Suddenly, a blinding light filled the room from above. I shielded my eyes instinctively, the intense glare burning like fire.
When I dared to peek through my fingers, the sight before me left me speechless.
There, in the center of the room, was my mama, tied to a wooden chair with ropes. Tears streamed down her face, her expression a mix of fear and relief.
I checked her for any signs of harm, but thankfully, she seemed physically unharmed.
Wait! My mama’s here? In Russia?
Without a second thought, I rushed to her side, unable to hold back the sobs that escaped my lips. I wrapped my arms around her tightly, scared she might disappear.
After a moment, I gently pulled away and sank to the floor, frantically trying to untie her. Panic surged through me as I tugged and gnawed at the ropes, desperate to free her, but they wouldn’t budge.
“Sofiya, wait!” My mom’s voice barely reached me over my frantic efforts.
Seeing her like this tore at me, and I realized I wasn’t thinking clearly. I couldn’t stop until she was okay. Not until I could hug her and feel her arms around me. It felt like I was the one being tied up again, and the memories of that day hit me full force, tightening my chest.
“Well, you’ve never been this happy to see me. I’m almost jealous.”
My hands shook as I released the ropes, standing frozen as his voice echoed in the room.
It had all seemed too simple, and I should have known better.
Why else would I be here?
My mother was just another pawn in his game.
Lifting my gaze, I saw my mama glaring at him. I longed to hug her again; to promise I’d protect her from now on.
Straightening up, I coughed and wiped my eyes with my dirty sleeves.
“That’s because I hate you,” I spat, keeping my back turned and holding my mama’s hands tightly.
“Hmm, I know,” his steps drew nearer until he was just a few meters away. “It turns me on.”
His words ignited a fierce anger in me. I hated him. Every part of me seethed with disgust, but I gritted my teeth, refusing to show any weakness.
Slowly, I turned around.
Gosh.
Why did he have to be so good-looking? It infuriated me.
I wished he were repulsive so my hatred could burn even brighter.
He looked like he’d just stepped off a runway, his black suit shining under the lights. The top buttons of his black shirt were open, revealing a silver necklace against his chest. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his dark hair slicked back. I couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel between my fingers.
