Page 8 of Dust to Dust

"I've been hearing something," Anton said in English. Unlike my uncle, Anton didn't mind speaking to me in English. But seven months in prison greatly improved my Russian. Anton approached the table; as he did, he rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt. Veins in his forearms were noticeable and thick.

I slipped on my new mask. In time I wouldn't need to slip it on. I would let my new persona become my every thought. "Terrible things, I hope," I responded in Russian to prove my lesson had been learned.

Using his foot, he kicked out the chair and slowly sat in it. His posture suggested he thought the chair was dirty and beneath his title. He licked his lips as he studied me. His right hand rested on the metal table as he drummed his fingers in a musical pattern. I started to get unnerved as Anton examined me under his microscope, "You did it, Kukla."

"I've done a lot of things now."

Anton nodded, "So I've heard. Weekly fights so much so that your uncle has had to pay off the warden who wanted to keep you longer as punishment."

"Am I supposed to be thankful?" I cocked my head. Did my uncle know about the guard who used hot water as a punishment? The shower water would boil with a simple twist of the old piping. My back now was marked with quarter-sized scars that were the burnt blisters from that punishment.

"No," Anton responded without haste, "you are supposed to be what you are now."

Narrowing my eyes, I asked in Russian, "And what am I now?" Leaning forward, I pressed my forearms on the cold surface of the table. "What kind of Kukla will I be today?"

I thought Anton might look proud that I could speak Russian, but instead, he looked sullen, "You've done what he wanted."

"Uncle gets what he wants," I sneered.

Anton leaned forward, "Not always." The tip of his lip tugged up slightly. Anton always had something else at play. So, who else would gain from my time here?

"You didn't kill yourself that day. You became a fighter."

The muscles in my neck stiffen, "You've been watching me. That's crossing the line, Anton. I mean, putting me in juvie is one thing but filming me?" I joked. I figured the cameras were standard prison protocol, but it seems I was wrong. Anton was always watching.

"Did my uncle send the pictures?" Referring to the photos, I kept receiving of Titan King. The images kept me awake while pondering who the sender could've been. My uncle was twisted, but was he so filled with hate that he would hunt me with images of the boy responsible for killing my family?

"No," Anton responded fast.

"You?"

"No."

I licked my lips and then cleared my dry throat. This was a game of Russian roulette to Anton, but I would be the bullet that shot free. "It doesn't matter anyway."

"No, it doesn't. What matters is that you can be controlled once you are released. Igor has made a monster, but to survive Elsa, you must know who the ringmaster is. Is that something you can do?"

A change in Anton's face hinted at his dirty little secret. Igor didn't have the strength he made me believe he had. Anton, however, had more power than he let others know. It was the ones who hid their power that you needed to consider. Igor was a balloon that could be popped; Anton was something entirely different. "Controlled like you, Anton?" I questioned his loyalty with one sentence.

Anton's green eyes gleamed as he stood, "I think you have no idea of the power inside of you, Kukla, and neither does your uncle." Turning his back, he walked to the door and knocked three times. He looked over his shoulder and said, "You're critical to some very influential people. The end is the beginning, Elsa. Don't forget that.”

Chapter 7

The present…

Well, this was…unexpected.

A fitting shoe for my pretty little feet because it was my goal to be unexpected. Then boom, I get a taste of my own medicine. It's a hard pill to swallow.

Defeat? Ghost asked.

Fuck no, Ghost. We have not been defeated.

The cold metal of my gun started to warm in my hand, so much so that my palm had begun to sweat. Titan, Lucas, Damian, and my fucking uncle Igor look down the barrel. For once in their lives, they were all unsure. The King men kept a mask over their features, but my uncle had furrowed brows.Your lion was about to kill its captor uncle.They knew I was unpredictable, and I'd act without repercussions. Yes, I, Nova Baladan, dared to aim a gun at these powerful men.

I had plotted my plan for revenge, but I failed to see the tiny details. I didn't care about those details. The bigger picture blinded me. I pushed through years of abuse, all to cut my leash and take control. I was now Nova Baladan, and I had successfully killed Elsa, the girl I was born as but never meant to be. Elsa was weak and fell for the lies Titan fed her. Lies Titan force fed so he and his father could steal my parents' company.

My plans were simple. Get Titan to hate me, turn that hate into lust, lust into love, and then kill the King. But it was all unfolded because Titan was a fucking freak that remembered a tiny freckle that even I didn't notice in my left eye. Color me surprised. I thought Titan didn't remember Elsa at all. But to remember, an insignificant detail meant that Titan did care.

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