Page 31 of Dangerous Beginnings

He releases my arm, and I glance up, meeting his eyes. The dark moonlight casts an eerie glow on his green irises, revealing a cruel, unyielding resolve. My heart races, caught between the sudden rush of freedom and the overwhelming fear of his threat.

“Run,” he commands, his deep Russian accent slicing through the chill of the night. “Do not let me find you, ever.”

His words are a dark promise, laden with the certainty that if I fail to heed his warning, there will be no second chances. I hesitate for a heartbeat, my mind racing with the gravity of histhreat. Slowly, I begin to back away from him, my legs trembling as I descend the small stairs of the porch.

“Begi, Izabella!” he growls, his voice a harsh, commanding echo in the cold night air.

Chapter 18

Senseless Threat

Isabella

The cold night air slaps my face as I sprint away from the ominous black door. My legs carry me as fast as they can, fueled by fear and confusion. The ground beneath me is uneven, but I can’t afford to stumble. I dare not look back, convinced that at any moment, he might change his mind. The city streets stretch out before me, desolate and quiet. I don’t know where I am or how far I’ve run, but I won’t stop until my lungs burn and my legs ache. Eventually, I find a dimly lit alley and slump against the cold brick wall, gasping for breath. The reality of what just transpired crashes over me like a relentless wave. His words echo in my mind.Run. Do not let me find you, ever.I shiver, not just from the chill in the air but from the lingering fear that clings to me like a second skin. The streets are empty, and I can’t see any sign of pursuit, but paranoia courses through my veins. Tears still stain my cheeks.

I slowly pull on the straps of the black bag. I take a look inside after zipping it open. There lies my phone, but of course, the battery is dead. Next to the phone and my other cards is another smaller black bag. I slowly open the velvet soft bag and - money, lots of it. My eyes widen, so much. I don’t have time to count it, but it is a lot. Did he pay me to stay silent? I glance around, searching for any indication of where I might be. With cautious steps, I make my way through the unfamiliar streets, feeling like a mouse navigating a labyrinth. Every shadow seems to conceal a threat, every sound amplifies my anxiety. As I continue to walk, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched. Paranoiaplays tricks on my mind, turning innocent sounds into ominous footsteps, and ordinary shadows into lurking figures. I quicken my pace, my heart pounding in my ears.

I stumble upon a small, run-down motel. It’s not the Ritz, but at this moment, it’s a haven. I approach the reception, hoping they have a phone I can use. The old man behind the counter eyes me warily, and I can’t blame him—I must look like a fucking mess.

“Can I help you, miss?” he asks in a hoarse voice.

“I... I need to use your phone, please. It’s an emergency,” I manage to say between deep breaths. He eyes me for a moment, then gestures to an ancient rotary phone on the counter.

“Two dollars,” he grumbles. Rude fuck. I fumble in the pocket of the black jacket for some change and drop the dollars into his outstretched hand. My hands shake as I dial a number—any number. But who am I going to call? And what the hell am I going to tell them? “Fuck,” I curse under my breath. Just one thing is certain—I can’t go back to the life I once knew. The world has become a darker, more treacherous place, and with his haunting green eyes, he has left an indelible mark on my existence.

Diable

The sound of the phone being slammed down echoes through the small, dimly lit room. I stand there, staring at the rotary phone as if it holds answers to questions I dare not ask. The air in the room is thick with the remnants of her fear, the residue of a game that took an unexpected turn. It was not supposed to be like this.

She was not supposed to know I existed, let alone escape the clutches I carefully placed around her. My fingers trace the surface of the antique wooden desk, feeling the rough edges, contemplating the unforeseen twist of fate. I underestimatedher. Underestimated the tenacity that gleamed in those tear-filled eyes. The flicker of defiance that refused to be snuffed out. It’s a flame I hadn’t anticipated, and now, it burns too close for comfort.

The phone rings, jolting me out of my contemplation. I answer with a curt “Govoriti.”Speak.

“It’s Alexei, he contacted us. He wants a meet-up, boss.”

I don’t hesitate a second before speaking again, “Make it happen, tomorrow.” My tone is unwavering. As the call ends, I ponder the gravity of the situation. The game has evolved into something more intricate, and more unpredictable. Isabella is no longer just a pawn; she’s become a wild card, a factor I hadn’t factored into my calculations. I hope she will be a good girl and keep her mouth shut. The room feels colder now. The shadows that once cloaked my actions seem to cast accusing glares.

I reach for a bottle of vodka, unscrew the cap, and take a long swig. The liquid burns its way down my throat. I look at my reflection in the small mirror, dark eyes staring back at me. The events of tonight have set in motion a chain reaction, a sequence of events that could either lead to my salvation or my downfall. Isabella, unknowingly, holds a key—a key that can unlock secrets buried deep within.

Letting her go will either cause me to live in regret or live in vain.

A sense of urgency washes over me. I need to clear my head. I made up my mind, I need to come to terms with my decision. I let her go. Now it is time to return. I toss the empty vodka bottle into the trash, the sound of a hollow echo in the room. The city below sleeps, unaware of the clandestine battles fought in the shadows. Isabella,my solnyshko, now running through the night, carries secrets and uncertainties that can either lead her to safety or into the jaws of a darker truth.

Isabella

The flickering neon sign outside the motel window casts an eerie glow in the dimly lit room. I sit on the bed, hugging my knees to my chest, staring into the shadows dancing across the walls. The money lies untouched on the worn-out bedside table. I stare at it. While I hug my knees into my chest, I take in the smell of the jacket hugging my body. It smells likehim.

The paranoia that had gripped me earlier tightens its hold. Every creak of the floorboards outside, every distant sound, sends my heart racing. The motel room feels both like a refuge and a prison. Maybe he has changed his mind? The anonymity it provides is a double-edged sword. I can hide here, but it’s also a place where anyone could find me. I consider locking the door, but a voice in my head warns me that locks won’t stop someone like him.

I decide to take a shower, hoping the hot water will wash away the fear clinging to my skin. Dressed in borrowed clothes from the reception, I sit on the bed again. The minutes drag on, each tick of the clock amplifying the silence of the room. The realization sinks in—I am fucked. Eventually, exhaustion takes over, and I lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep is elusive, and when it comes, it brings restless dreams haunted by a pair of haunting green eyes

Chapter 19

I Am Not Led, I Lead

Diable

The next morning, I dress myself into my business clothes. It is a gloomy morning. Sleep did not come to me, nothing new. Dressed in a tailored black suit, I run a gloved hand through my neatly combed dark hair. She remains here, in New York, while I will fly back to Moscow. But before I do that, I will need to finish business with Alexei, an agreement. To stop the war in New York. The pieces are set, and the game continues—uncharted, unpredictable, and far from over.

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