Page 150 of Koroleva

"I'm a specialist in squatters and memories are just that, memories," I clarified. "Take care, and don't hassle Omar or he'll stop holding your dick when you pee."

"Omar doesn't hold anything, as you know. Although maybe I'll find someone who does, not everyone makes as many objections as you," he suggested spitefully.

"You'd do well."

That was the last thing I said before dragging the suitcase out of the room with his eyes drilling into the back of my neck.

I wasn't going to make a scene, nor was I going to approach him to kiss him as I felt like doing. It was much better this way, for him to become disillusioned and understand that what we had was a fling, nothing more.

I closed the door with a fucking knot that I planned to untie as soon as he was out of sight. I just needed a few days away and I would manage to erase him from my life.

59

On the way to the airport

Sarka

Finally, I was going home…

It took a lot of convincing to get my mother to let me finish the school year in Saint Petersburg. She was adamant that we stay in Marbella, and I couldn’t give up what I wanted most in the world. Not yet, at least. Thankfully, my sister had taken my side.

I thought about the person who kept me up at night this past year and pinched my lower lip. One year. I had one year ahead of me to make him see me differently, to make him understand that I wasn't just a kid and he wasn't just a passing fancy, that the desire I felt went far beyond a simple infatuation. I smiled to myself, eager to be in my city, by his side, breathing the same air as him.

"Andrey honked the horn. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realize we had been stopped for a while.

"What's going on?" I questioned, sitting in the back seat.

"Some idiot is blocking the way. He started unloading in double parking and nobody can pass, we're stuck."

"We can't be late for the airport."

"I know." He honked the horn again without success.

The man, who was about fifty meters away, seemed to be struggling to unload the merchandise and wasn't putting much effort into his work. The other car horns echoed the first honk, as if it were a concert."

"Andrey looked nervously from side to side, as if weighing something, his fingers tapping the steering wheel restlessly.

"Give me a minute. Don't move," he said, and I nodded as he got out of the car, taking the keys with him.

I rolled down the window to see what was happening outside. I leaned my head out to watch my sister's bodyguard, dressed in his impeccable Armani suit and sunglasses that hid his light eyes, catch up with the delivery man.

They exchanged some words and, finally, I saw him roll up his sleeves to lend a hand and put an end to the jam.

I smiled. Andrey was a tough guy, but he had a good heart, it showed in every act, like now, helping a stranger so we wouldn't be late. Another one of my sister's men would have shot him and driven right over the merchandise.

A motorcycle stopped next to me.

I turned my head to the driver and he, without lifting his visor, asked me, 'Can't get through?'"

"In a moment it will clear up. They won't take long, my driver is helping out," I said. I saw him nod and get out of the vehicle, putting the kickstand so it would stand on its own and not fall. I kept watching Andrey, who didn't have many boxes left to move.

My sister's bodyguard furrowed his brow, and I smiled again; it couldn't be very comfortable to move all that weight clad in a suit. He turned his gaze to me, which was logical, after all, his job was to guard me. His expression changed, and he began to shout in desperation. At first, I didn't understand what the fuss was about until I felt a strong tug that cut through the seatbelt anchoring me to the car, and gloved hands pulled me with enough force to leave half of my body hanging out of the window.

I started screaming like a madwoman, waving my hands to prevent that guy from taking me. I felt a prick that made me faint and lose all strength. The last thing I heard was Andrey's roar.

60

Kidnapped

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