Chapter 6 6. Anne - Leaving 1

Stupid bitch.

That’s what Ivan called me.

I pretend that I don’t understand him. Except Vasiliy, not one else knows that I speak Russian.

When Vasiliy first started working for my father as a chef, his English wasn’t great, but he tried his best. We made a deal–I’d learn Russian if he let me help him practice English. Over time, I became fluent in his language, and he in mine.

I didn’t even have time to say goodbye to Vasiliy. My heart throbs painfully as I think about the fact that I’ll probably never see him again. At least I have my phone, and I can text him when I get to Russia. And I have plenty of photos of us cooking together, all the dishes we made stored on my phone. We might not be able to see each other in person, but we can still video call.

Ivan pulls out of the driveway and turns on the radio, Russian music blasting through the car. I don’t recognize the artist, but the lyrics sound… sad.

In the fireplace at six in the morning, there’s your photo

Memories of you are burning

By the fireplace at six in the morning, there’s a broken soul

And all your promises are empty

I can’t help but wonder if they ever think about what could have been if Isla were still alive. I do—all the time. Maybe they would have become Lords, married her, and had a child or two by now.

And the stars were tranquilly falling as if it were for me

Every time I made a wish not to lose you

But I cannot any longer, I’m just torturing myself

Now you’re not mine anymore

My life would have been so different. I would have been an aunt. My father wouldn’t have hated me. Maybe I wouldn’t have had the scars either.

My gaze drifts to the street.

I hate that I stole that future from them.

Ivan and Dominick start talking about work, but I barely pay attention, while Yuri stays busy typing on his phone.

It takes about half an hour to reach the airport. But it’s not the international one, which confuses me. I thought we were going to Siberia.

After Ivan parks, Yuri finally puts his phone away and gets out. Dominick and Ivan follow.

I step out of the car carefully, my ribs still aching—my father hit me harder than I thought. I slide my backpack onto my shoulders.

Yuri and Ivan head into the airport without so much as a glance in my direction. I wonder if they’ll ever speak to me again. At least Dominick does, even if every word he throws my way drips with contempt.

“Aren’t we going to Siberia?” I ask.

Without looking at me, Dominick replies, “We are. We’re taking a private plane.”

A private plane. How much money does Dimitri have to afford that?

“Grab your luggage and let’s go,” Dominick orders, opening the trunk.

“Oh…” I hesitate, then ask softly, “Could you help me? I don’t think I can lift it.”

Dominick shoots me a venomous glance. “Not my luggage, not my problem. I already carried it down the stairs and into the car. Like I said, I’m not your errand boy.” He pulls out his phone and starts scrolling through it.

I let out a low breath and step in front of the trunk. Grabbing my suitcase, I try to lift it, but pain flares in my ribs. I shouldn’t have brought so many books, but some are special editions, and I treasure them too much to leave behind.

I should’ve switched to digital years ago, but nothing compares to the smell of a new book or the comfort of curling up under a blanket, feeling the pages between my fingers.

Dominick notices me struggling but doesn’t move to help. Instead, he says, “We’re going inside the airport in thirty seconds, with or without your luggage.”

I consider leaving it behind, but my books are everything to me. Taking a deep breath, I gather all my strength and lift the suitcase. My ribs protest sharply, but I focus on the new book I bought yesterday—the one I can’t wait to read.

Somehow, I find the strength to get the luggage out of the car. Unfortunately, one of the wheels of the suitcase breaks.

Damn it!

Why do I always have such bad luck?

“I’m ready,” I manage to say, closing the trunk.

“It’s about time,” he mutters, striding toward the airport entrance. Then, in Russian, he adds, “I can’t wait to get to Siberia. Having to look at her face makes me sick.”

I always wear my hair loose so I can hide the scars on the left side of my face. Sometimes I tuck a few strands behind my ear since the right side is untouched. But hearing Dominick talk like that makes my stomach drop. I make sure my hair covers every inch of my face before following him inside, dragging my heavy suitcase behind me.

Twenty minutes later, the private plane takes off.

Dominick, Ivan, and Yuri take the seats facing each other, while I choose one as far from them as possible, near the window. A gorgeous flight attendant approaches them and asks in Russian if they want anything to drink.

“Whiskey,” all three reply.

She ignores me completely as she goes to prepare their drinks.

I pull out my phone and turn it on while listening to Dominick say, “This is our last mission. I can’t wait for this to be over so we can finally start our lives in the US.”

Unread messages pop up on my screen.

Unknown number: Where is the money for this month?

It was sent three days ago.

Yesterday, the same number sent me: You have 24 hours to send me the money, or else it won’t end well for you. Fucking disfigured bitch.

My heart starts racing as I open my banking app to make a transfer. The flight attendant returns with the drinks and serves the guys.

Dominick pulls her into his lap and kisses her neck. She giggles. Ivan puts his hand on her thigh, and the tips of his fingers disappear beneath the hem of her short skirt. The only one who isn’t paying any attention to her is Yuri, who is typing again on his phone.

Dominick takes a sip of his drink before he kisses her. Ivan leans forward as his hand moves further up her tights. Seconds later, she’s moaning.

I try to ignore them as best I can.

I quickly type a message and send it to the unknown number: I sent you the money. Also, I am no longer in the US… so…