Page 56 of Dangerous Beginnings

I don’t dare to speak. Five minutes pass as I realize we are on our way to the airport. I can’t ever come back here. Somehow the word will spread. I betrayed the department; I’ll end up in jail. Trevor was an asshole, but I didn’t wish him fucking dead. But fear led me here. I’m more scared of him. I don’t know what he has in store for me. What if he just manipulated me into this?

“What happens now?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper, the weight of my decision heavy on my shoulders.

“Now,” he replies, his voice low and authoritative, “you obey and stay calm, we’ll talk on the plane.” His words hang in the air, leaving no room for negotiation. I swallow hard, the reality of my choice sinking in. I’m going to be finding myself in a world where he rules all.

As we approach the airport, the landscape transforms. The wooden landscape gives way to the expansive runways and towering terminals. The air becomes charged with the energy of departure, a gateway to unknown destinations.

The car comes to a halt in front of a private jet, a sleek silver behemoth gleaming under the airport lights. My eyes widen in shock, a mixture of awe and disbelief painted across my features. It’s a revelation, a testament to the wealth and power hidden beneath the surface of his enigmatic existence. He isverywealthy.

He moves towards my side and before I can push the car door open myself, he has opened it for me. He pulls me out by my upper arm while other people grab our bags. Everything and everyone move fast. The airport staff, aware of his presence, act with a seamless efficiency.

As he steps onto the tarmac, my eyes scan the private jet with a mixture of disbelief and horror that still fills me. He sets me down on a leather seat once we are inside. The opulence of the aircraft stands in stark contrast to the simplicity of my previous life. The realization that I’m now a part of this world, whetherwillingly or not, lingers in the air.

The interior is a marvel of sophistication and luxury. Plush leather seats, polished surfaces, and ambient lighting create an atmosphere that transcends the mundane. My eyes widen, absorbing the extravagance surrounding me.

As the jet engines hum to life, signaling our departure, I settle into my seat, still grappling with the surreal turn my life has taken. He takes a seat opposite of me. But not before he closes in on me and fastens the belt around my chest. This is the second time I’ve ever flown. I don’t fly often; we were not rich enough to afford it. The crew on board is Russian, of course. I am going to be having a hard time understanding a lot of things I’m afraid of. I stare out of the window as the plane takes off, I’m fucked.

“Relax,” his voice cuts through my thoughts as I repeatedly move my leg. The plane gets into higher air safely and we’re off. I take a good look around me, but my eyes always land on his.

“Relax?!” I nearly yell as all the staff on board disappear behind a door. I stare at the bloodstain. “Did you kill him?” It’s obvious, yet I want to hear it from his mouth.

A sudden tide of panic hits me—a panic coming from the decision I’ve made. “What do you even plan on doing with me?” Nothing but a stupid grin appears on his face. I have been fucking loyal to him and this is what I get back? I’m so fucking stupid. I should have never even trusted him for a second. I should have never chosen his side, to defend him. He stares at me before standing up towards a small bar. He pours himself some disgusting old man liquid with his back to me, ignoring me. Frustration fills me and with his back to me, I notice something. He’s left his gun unattended on the small silver table next to a bag. I get my foot up and push the sides open to see what’s inside—ammo and handcuffs. I don’t know for what, but I assume for me.

Without thinking, my panic settles in and with his back to me,I reach for the heavy black gun. I point it at him, another stupid decision. I whimper at the sudden pain in my chest, but I ignore it.

He raises his eyebrow, but a hint of surprise fills his gaze. He slowly takes a sip of the glass in his left hand. “Do you even know how to use a gun?” I click the safety off and point it at him again. The aircraft seems eerie silent. He hums at my actions.

“Answer my fucking question.”My tone comes out steadier than I expected.

“Feisty little woman, are you?” He takes a slow step towards me, his height dominating over mine. My hands shake as my grip on the gun tightens. The barrel shakes slightly, but I hold my ground. He hums again, amused by the fear radiating from me.

Another step closer, he takes a sip, bringing the glass slowly to his lips. I can’t stop the whimper escaping my throat as the barrel of the gun touches his chest. He doesn’t flinch, instead he lowers his gaze to the weapon. “Go on,” he murmurs, his voice calm. “Be sure to hit a vital organ,sweetheart.”

With slow, deliberate movement, he takes the barrel of the gun and moves its position directly towards his heart. “Go ahead. But we both know the truth, don’t we? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here, with me.” He inches even closer, the barrel pressing harder against his chest. “I am the only one who truly sees you,” his tone smooth, “I have shown you mercy, several times. I could have crushed you, but I didn’t.”

His voice lowers and so does his mouth, coming close to my ear, “You should be thanking me, shouldn’t you? For the mercy I have shown you, the affection I have given you—twisted or not.”

I can’t speak, my mouth is dry like the Sahara. He has shown me mercy—in his own twisted ways.

My lip trembles and everything hurts, but I don’t back down. I’m fighting too many emotions.

His eyes remain on mine as he makes his way over to his seat again. He rests his arm on the armrest while the other brings the glass to his lips. “But to answer your question, yes—I killed him.” I stare at him, still pointing the gun, but my grip is less tight. I swallow stomach acid down.

“What the fuck do you plan on doing with me?” I’m hesitant, not knowing whether I want to know the answer. A stupid smirk plays on his lips as he settles the empty glass down on the silver table. I don’t trust any move he is making and even though I am the one holding the gun I don’t feel in control. But I am because the gun is loaded, and I can shoot him.

Can I?

I kick the bag towards him. “Put the cuffs on.” A chuckle escapes his lips while eyeing the bag, and he leans forward to it.

“As you wish.” He reaches over to the bag and takes out the pair of handcuffs. He doesn’t look fazed by the situation in the slightest. He sits back and locks the cuffs around his wrists, throwing the key at me. I catch the key. He leans back in his chair and folds his hands together in his lap while staring at me. A new feeling makes its way up in my bloodline,power. “This is an interrogation,no?” He hums at his question. I don’t think I have ever held this long of eye contact with him.

As we continue to stare each other down, a sudden knock at the door breaks the tense silence, causing me to jump slightly in my seat. The man stares at us, at me pointing a gun. He reaches behind him for what I assume would be a gun, my point goes from Aslanov to him. Before hell breaks loose Aslanov’s commanding voice fills the air, his tone brooking no argument.

“Ostavlyai,”leave,he orders, his voice cold and authoritative. And with that, the cabin crew member hastily retreats, leaving us alone. His eyes never leave mine. Just like that. I stare at the now-closed door again. No, I am not in control at all.

“Which questions are you so eager to know you have to put onthis puppet show?” The calm and control slowly fade from his face, replaced by irritation. He is going to kill me after this. I might as well make the best out of this.

“Why are you treating me differently?”

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