Page 60 of Dangerous Beginnings

His gaze doesn’t waver as he releases my chin, the pressure of his fingers leaving a lingering, ghostly imprint on my skin. “Don’t leave the house,” he orders, his tone brooking no argument. I stare at him, the reality of my situation settling in with a crushing finality. There’s a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, a knowing, almost mocking smile that makes my blood run cold. He adjusts the cuffs of his jacket with a casual ease, the gesture almost dismissive. “It’s not safe,” he adds, the words dripping with a cruel certainty.

Without another word, Aslanov turns and strides out of the room, leaving me alone with my spiraling thoughts. The sound of his footsteps fades into the distance, replaced by an oppressive silence that presses down on me, amplifying the echo of his ominous warning.

He’s going to come back and when he does, he is going topunishme.

Chapter 36

Discoveries

Isabella

Aslanov’s absence leaves the house shrouded in an eerie silence, broken only by the faint echo of my footsteps as I cautiously explore the unfamiliar surroundings. With each step, I feel a sense of trepidation gnawing at my insides, but a curious impulse drives me forward, urging me to unravel the mysteries that lie hidden within the walls of this imposing mansion.

As I wander through the dimly lit corridors, the grandeur of the house overwhelms me, its opulent furnishings and ornate decorations a sobering contrast to the starkness of my own surroundings. Every room holds a sense of secrets waiting to be discovered, a tantalizing invitation to delve deeper into the mysteries that surround me.

My curiosity leads me to a grand staircase, its marble steps polished to a gleaming shine. With hesitant steps, I go down the stairs, my heart pounding in my chest as I anticipate what lies beyond. At the bottom of the staircase, I find myself standing before a series of closed doors, each one holding the promise of untold secrets.

Without hesitation, I push open the nearest door and step into the room beyond. As my eyes adjust to the light, I find myself in a beautiful kitchen, its elegant furnishings bathed in a soft golden glow. But what catches my attention is the figure standing by the window, her silhouette framed against the fading light.

For a moment, neither of us speaks, the silence stretching between us like a taut wire. But then, the woman turns to faceme, her features softened by the gentle light filtering through the window. There’s a warmth in her eyes, a kindness that sets me at ease despite the uncertainty that still lingers within me. After a while she greets me, and I greet her.

Her English is not the best, but we can understand each other fine. I came to find out her name is Sasha. She is a very soft and sweet woman, making me wonder how she survives in a world like this.

The house is huge and made of wood and stone, it has a private gym and multiple rooms, three floors in total, and a basement. There is a huge hallway leading towards a black door, it’s locked with multiple locks. His office is connected to the bedroom, it’s open and if I wanted to I could roam around in it. But I don’t, I don’t want any more trouble. I make my way downstairs again after a while meeting the smell of food in the kitchen.

Sasha turns around and smiles at me, beckoning me to sit down. She fills up my plate and pours me a cup of tea. My stomach growls at the thought of food. I must admit the jetlag is already catching up on me. I smile at her and thank her as she takes her plate, wanting to go eat somewhere else. I stop her, “Wait, where are you going?” She turns around meeting me with a confused look, her Russian accent meets the air.

“Eat at my place, miss.”

“You can eat with me?”

She looks hesitant, “I don’t normally eat whereheeats.”

I squint my eyes,weird.“But I’m not him. I could use the company.” I offer her a smile and after a little doubt, she comes to sit with me on the kitchen table.

After about 15 minutes Sasha isn’t timid anymore and she warms up to me. I take the advantage of asking her some questions. I get to know her and some history about her life, finally, the conversation slowly drifts off to him.

“He isn’t open about what he does, especially not to me,” shestates as I sip on the cup of tea she offered me. I am still a little shaky after what happened and have a lot of anxiety in me for the moment he returns. I nod at her. She meets me with a confused look. “How did you meet him?”

I stare at her; it’s a complicated story—very complicated. “Long story short, I worked as a nurse in a high-security jail; I met him there.” I guess she gets permitted from the truth a lot so I will grant her mine, “he escaped and set the place on fire.”

Her mouth opens as she nearly drops her cup of tea, and so do I when I relive the situation in my head again. He set the place on fire, and after that, the newspaper was headlined with it. Most people were killed, some jumped out the windows and escaped.

“He took me out of the building and took me with him.” She keeps her gaze on mine as if I am telling her the most important story she has ever heard, “I honestly thought he was going to kill me, and-” I shut my eyes, reliving that moment. The amount of anxiety I felt. Meeting him for the first time wasn’t like the second time at all. The way he hung me in the air suspended, ready to throw me in a body bag. But he didn’t. “He almost did, but then something happened and he let me run.”

She puts the teacup down on the counter and scoots closer. Her gaze is soft, she’s a soft woman. I can feel her stare at my bruises, but she doesn’t ask and somehow that makes me feel good. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to ever talk about it anymore.

“So, you were the loose end for months? Before you met again.”

I nod. “I was, but my curiosity got the best of me and so I started peeking around into him and his business. He found out and now—now we are here.” I spare her the details of what happened in between. The reminders send waves of heat to my stomach.

“He has never brought a woman into his home, let alone let any man or woman walk away.” Her statement makes me feel something, and it shouldn’t, but it does. After a while, the conversation sets into a different tone. I think we have been talking for at least an hour and she has given me more information than any file could give me, at least about him. She has known him by heart since he was just a boy. I can feel that she is holding back some information, but she has already given me so much. I want to be careful and not scare her off. So slowly I ask my next question.

“He had a sister, right?”

She nods. “Yes.”

Pain fills her eyes and I know something very bad happened to her. I know she passed but not exactly what happened. She walks away from the kitchen counter and returns after a few minutes with a picture, it’s her. I glide my fingers over the picture. She is gorgeous. Her bright smile and white skin are dreamy. She looks very happy. Next to her in the picture, there is a slim tall woman, with blonde hair and piercing green eyes; exactly like his. Her face has sharp features, and she has thick eyelashes.

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