Page 85 of Deadly Knight
Except it hasn’t this time. Not really.
She’s silent for a moment, her gaze drifting to the nearest building we’re passing. “I’m not sure. I’d like to think nothing would scare me away, but surviving what you had might give me a different perspective. I suppose I understand why you haven’t.” She pauses, rolling her lips together. “You mentioned Moscow bringing up memories. How have you been handling it since Dimitri dragged you here?”
Uh…shit.I almost don’t want to respond, because the truth is…better than I initially thought. When first facing Dimitri, when I hesitated opening my eyes, knowing my protective barriers would shatter and all my work undone—which ultimately is what happened—it wasn’t as bad as I’d anticipated. After days staying in the very mansion once housing the true villain behind that night, I’ve been okay. Even being around Dimitri’s stuff was a gamble; either his scent would be a trigger or be a sense of protection, and for the most part, it’s been the latter.
“Alright.”
She obviously wants to comment on the lie we’re both aware I’m telling but instead asks, “How’s living in Toronto?”
Finally, something I can tell the complete truth about.“Busy. Hectic. I like it as well.” Not a lie; I just prefer Moscow’s brand of busy. “It was uncomfortable at first. Russian isn’t a prominent language in Toronto, even if the city is very-multicultural, so after a while, I stopped speaking it entirely.”
She frowns. “You’re losing your roots. Not selling me on Toronto.”
“I spent eighteen years here, and ten there. Almost the same amount. Toronto might not be my favourite place to live, but it’s become home. The one I made, anyway. It’s good for me, beingaway from everything here. My job is genuinely enjoyable, I have a couple friends, and, of course, my parents live there. Besides, I might leave the city one day. Canada’s large, and there are many places to choose from. Someone suggested moving west, to the mountains that might remind me of Russia, so perhaps one day I will.”
“Sounds like you’re convincing yourself to stay in the country rather than telling me,” she murmurs, to which I have no reply. “Sorry for asking. You looked nostalgic, that’s all.”
“It’d be impossible to not be.”
As the car takes a corner, she says, “Wish I knew you back then, but my stupid father kept me away at boarding school. When I graduated and came home for good, it was a year after yours, and Dimitri mentioned you two splitting.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“Only that you ended the relationship and left the country. Couples break up all the time, so I didn’t think much of it. I’ll admit, I was different back then. More selfish. Over the years, I should have put it all together, given the level of hatred he held for Ivan—holdsfor Ivan.”
The driver pulls behind a nondescript building, which ends the conversation. As nice as Vanessa is, my past doesn’t need to be bared more than it already has been. Keep delving into the past, and my foundation will be destroyed as well, making rebuilding my walls an endless chore.
Vanessa gets out first, blocking my way from the alley so the only direction available is the door. She’s subtle, even if I had no plans to attempt running.
She opens the plain black door with a firm jerk before leading me down the connected corridor. Besides the hum of conversation ahead, wherever we are is quiet.
Vanessa walks with a bit more rigidity than she does around the mansion, like she’s carrying extra confidence. It’s admirable,something immediately stoking my jealousy. Maybe with her level of sureness, I’d be strong enough to handle everything.
We pass a couple doors, but she doesn’t stop, continuing until we reach the main part; a space completely unexpected.
Couches and lounge areas are dotted around, with a small bar in the centre of the room. Curtains drape the walls, some as décor and others acting as sheer privacy screens to lounge areas. The overhead lights are a bright white, but I imagine this place later being dimmed for an erotic atmosphere.
Seated on the various couches are small groups of women, chatting, most draped in long black or white silk robes. They glance up at our arrival, smiling as Vanessa heads for the nearest group.
The three look from her to me, obviously wondering who the stranger is. Vanessa introduces me as “her friend”, which makes my stomach knot for a few reasons, before inquiring about the past weekend. Then she addresses each one individually, asking more specific things, like family and hobbies.
As my mind is trying to make sense of what exactly is happening, she’s leading me to the next group, repeating the same kinds of questions.
On and on it goes, until we’re heading back down the dark hallway and through the door we earlier entered from. I jog after her, lowering my voice so it doesn’t carry.
“Who are they?”
She holds up her finger, instructing me to wait, but once we’re inside her vehicle, she answers, “Staff of one of my brothels.”
“Brothels. Like a sex club?”
“More or less. They were my answer—sorry, Anastasia’s idea, technically—to a problem that arose when I ended the trafficking rings my father once controlled.”
Trafficking rings? I’ve always known from my time with Dimitri that the Bratva controls a lot of dark things…but the selling of people? That isn’t something I ever imagined. Although, considering Ivan’s twisted ideas, his depravity and actions make a whole lot more sense.
I think back to that night with a slightly new appreciation. All things considered, Ivan could have made me disappear in other ways. Breaking my spirit and my relationship was clearly the kinder option.
“Like…people?”Say no.
