Since childhood, understanding emotions had always been a hassle for me. It wasn’t that I was indifferent; I simply struggled to grasp why they felt the way they did.
When my father died tragically, I watched my mother cry herself to sleep night after night. I would kneel beside her door, bothered and confused by her tears and wondering why she couldn’t move on. I felt the loss too, but I believed that if we stayed mired in our grief, we’d be stuck there forever.
I became her anchor in those dark times. She called me her angel, the one who guided her through the darkness. Yet, in truth, I merely encouraged her to keep going, to not let the grief consume us. I didn’t understand her pain fully, but I knew we couldn’t let it define our lives. In the end, it wasn’t about dismissing our loss but about finding the strength to live beyond it.
The complexity of the human brain was beyond my grasp, but he-there was not a single nerve or bone in him that I could relate to or understand. One minute he threatened me, and hurt me, and the next, he was so close that I forgot whose air I was breathing. He had me moulded into his hands, twisting me in whatever way he preferred, and then he let go, not realizing I was shattering there. Or maybe he simply didn’t care enough to even ponder that.
A toy. That’s what I felt like.
When I struggled to my trembling legs, he was already striding forward with his cane.
Kyle was there, watching, and I stood paralyzed, unsure of what to do next. Cruel. That’s what he was. He wielded his cruelty like a weapon, knowing exactly how to get under my skin and make me feel small.
His presence was oppressive, a looming shadow that filled me with a deep, abiding fear. He was chaos and I knew he revelled in that power.
Gathering my sanity off the ground, I jogged towards him and Kyle, keeping my distance this time, walking beside Kyle.
Judas stopped, and so did I and my breaths. Looking around with fearful eyes, I realised we were in a corridor. I watched him cautiously as he extended his hand. “Little bird?” I hated the tinge of nerves that rushed through me at his deep, refined, and suspiciously calm voice as if he hadn’t cornered me just a few minutes ago.
I took a deep breath and then stepped forward. He wanted my hand. I gave it to him before pulling the sleeves of my sweater to my nails so that my skin wouldn’t touch him. A small tilt of his lips as he rubbed my sweater-cladded hands with his thumb, but to my relief, he remained quiet.
“We are here, sir,” Kyle said and Judas nodded.
I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a black hole appearing in front of my eyes as if it’d suck me in. Though there was a clothed wall between us, I could feel the warmth of his palm.
Kyle opened the door, and the loud voices completely slammed in my ears. So loud I wanted to press my palms against my ears. Before my vision could sweep around, a tangible scent of smoke, alcohol and disgusting smell infiltrated my nostrils. And I literally hated it.
The room stilled for a second as every pair of eyes turned to the door.
“Welcome back,” A man wearing a dusty brown fur coat and an ugly smirk mumbled raising his whisky-filled glass in the air towards Judas. “We’ve been waiting.”
I swallowed, feeling a tug at my hand. Judas was standing there, and I realized he was waiting for me to make a move. I guided him to an empty couch and helped him sit down before taking a seat next to him. Kyle remained standing by the door, his eyes flicking between us as he walked towards us and stood behind the couch with his hands clasped in front.
The man who resembled an oversized bear as he walked around the table, his gaze never leaving Judas. He quickly slipped a cigar between his fingers and lit it up, the glow from the flame casting eerie shadows on his face. “I’m glad to see you both made it back, little lion,”
Judas appeared completely unbothered.
He leaned back against the couch, exuding an air that was almost unsettling, no more amused or teasing but that of a devil. The air seemed to bend around his presence, his aura so commanding that it drew every eye to him. Bringing the cigar to his lips and taking a slow, deliberate drag.
Smoke curled around his face as he exhaled. ” ?” he asked, his voice calm and steady, slicing through the tension like a knife.
(Where’s the rat?)
The man’s eyes flickered and I wondered what Judas asked him. Though he quickly composed himself, the brief lapse was telling. “?”
(The rat?)
Judas smirked a cold, calculating glint in his eyes. ” . , .”
(Don’t play games with me. You know exactly who I’m talking about.)
Carlo swallowed hard and looked behind his shoulder at the other men, they exchanged a glance with him. The room had three long couches, all leather placed in towards each other. Whereas, the one in front of us was almost empty with only two men sitting there, one man with a blonde head and the other with a bald, tattoo on his forehead. Though they both seemed to be in their own world, sniffing the white powder, their ears were on the conversation.
The people sitting on the couch adjacent to ours seemed hostile and quite unwelcoming with their upturned smiles but their words, were quite the opposite. There were four men spread there. One of them was Carlo, Judas seemed not to like him very much.
And other three seemed like no less than nasty filthy creatures bathing in money.
Carlo’s boldness seemed to falter under Judas’s unyielding presence. Judas took another puff of his cigar, the smoke blending with the tension that hung thick in the air.
Carlo’s jaw clenched tight and he suddenly muttered in English. “The rat has been… dealt with,” My ears perked up. “But I assure you, it won’t be a problem anymore.”
Rat? Or probably a traitor. Dealt with? I hoped the dealt with part indicated some legal web and not the gruesome deed.
My bones shuddered when I heard a dark chuckle coming from the man sitting beside me, I looked at him through my lashes. He threw his head back and his chuckle grew louder. I swallowed hard. This was the first time I had seen him laughing so maniacally. What did he find so funny here? Carlo’s grim face, or his nasty personality? Or probably nothing because he was blind for devil’s sake. Not that it mattered since he knew what to do to make a person’s insides crawl at the sight of him. Like I said. No less than the devil.
I fidgeted with my fingers, head lowered and palms sweaty. His laugh turned darker and when he stopped, I noticed his smirk had widened into a grin. I was at a loss for words as I let my gaze wander to his face for a brief second. The fire of a devil’s charm, a smile so wicked, caused my heart to stop.
He leaned forward slightly, the grin not leaving his face. “Dealt with?” he repeated, almost mockingly. “I’m not interested in your empty words, Carlo. I want his head, or better, his tongue that seems to slip where it shouldn’t have. Where is he?”
Carlo hesitated, clearly feeling overwhelmed by Judas. “He’s in the warehouse,”
I sucked in a sharp breath eyeing the man. The conversation wasn’t what I was expecting. They seemed to talk in riddles, and I definitely knew what the answer was.
Judas tilted his head, the smirk still teasing his lips. “The warehouse? How original.” Words dance with danger, yet so amused. ” , ? , , .”
(Did you come up with that hiding spot all by yourself, Carlo? Must have taken all your brain cells to figure that one out.)
Someone snickered from the other side. And Carlo shot him a death glare before turning his attention to Judas. His eyes filled with abhorrence and then flickered to Kyle standing behind him. The fire diminished slightly, but the loathe remained.
What did he say to get Carlo so agitated?
The man cleared his throat swiftly. ” ,”
(Understood.)
Judas leaned back again. He flicked ash from the cigar onto the floor. “You can go now,” he said dismissively.
I never heard a silence so loud in my entire life. And I just sat there, rocking back and forth. So his overbearing personality was not only reserved for me, he was rude to everyone around him.
“Who is she?” My head snapped in the direction of the voice. The man with dark eyes and a nasty smirk pointed his head in my direction. I clenched my jaw tight. Grabbing any of their attention was the last thing on my list. And I still didn’t know why Judas decided to bring me to this hellish place. All I wanted was to run from here and get under the sheets and sleep. Not thinking about their dirty hands and suggestive smirks.
To my horror, the man sitting beside me hardly seemed to care as he casually blew out the smoke. I glared at Carlo as he smirked.
“No one you should concern yourself with.” His venomous voice wrapped around me in a sinful hold. Deep and gravelly. And I thanked whatever the hell he ruled because the moment the words rolled down his tongue, Carlo’s jaw tightened and his eyes blazed with fury.
I knew from their faces that none of them liked Judas very much. Not that I complain. The man had the personality of a damn beast, not everyone could handle his over bearing aura. Not even me.
“Where the fuck are your sluts, Donatello? I am not here for just liquor.” The one with long brown hair mumbled sipping on his liquor.
My frown deepened as the grey-haired man, presumably Dontello, clapped his hands. I glanced around in confusion as the wall behind us opened with a mechanical hum. My eyes widened, and a wave of nausea churned in my stomach as a group of women strode inside, dressed in the nastiest and most disgusting outfits I had ever seen. My skin crawled, and a shiver of revulsion ran down my spine, making me scramble back.
I watched in horror as the women swayed, their eyes red and smiles disturbingly creepy. Something told me they were high as hell. Their underwear barely hid their private parts, and their breasts were almost bouncing out. Their bodies were slim, and they wore strapped heels. My face instantly flushed with a mix of embarrassment and disgust.
I tried to avert my gaze, but the disturbing sight seemed to burn in the back of my head. Everything felt colder. My heart pounded in my chest, and my hands trembled slightly. I clenched my fists, willing myself to look away. Each step they took seemed to echo louder, and I could feel a knot forming in my stomach. I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breathing, but the nauseating sensation only grew stronger.
They rounded the table, each one lowering themselves on the men sitting around.
“On your knees, bitch!” I swallowed hard as Dontello fisted the girl’s hair and pulled her down on her knees. And pressed her head against his crotch. “Suck me good.”
My teeth gritted in anger. That was no way to treat a woman. What did he think he was? A dictator? And why the hell was she letting him do that? Of course, I knew that hotels like these were probably reserved for high-end people and probably included illegal businesses, drug dealing, or even trafficking. But wasn’t it dangerous? There were high chances places like these were often raided.
“Master…” the woman moaned, and by her eyes, I knew she was high. My heartbeat felt erratic as she dropped down to her knees and started fumbling with his zipper. Her motions were clumsy but she got to it and my eyes widened as she pulled out his flaccid length.
Averting my eyes to the side, making sure I didn’t look at that… thing. Cause why the hell would he want a woman to suck him off in front of people? Ah! I wanted to scream and slam the bottle onto his head, but as much as it sounded good, it was hypothetical.
For sure if I raised a finger, my hand would be cut before touching him. The son of a gun looked like he was in a gang or something.
“What’s the deal now? Heard you’re returning to Italy. That’s peak entertainment.”
The other danger sitting beside me cocked his head. “Careful what you hear next, Dontello. It might not be as entertaining as you think.” No humour, plain and straight warning.
Donatello looked offended as his chest raised up and down with an irritated expression on his face as he pressed his lips together. “Still,” he mocked. “You realise if you leave Russia what it’ll cost, right?”
He should be glad Judas was blind, cause if he could see Donatello at this moment, I wouldn’t have been sure if it would’ve been Dontello’s head being ripped off and thrown out of the window like a basketball, or his balls. It required drugged adrenaline or balls of diamond to even flick a finger in front of the demon.
“If you don’t stop talking, it’ll cost you your head.” Judas dragged his words and Dontello’s face paled. The former casually leaned back and threw the used bud of the cigar over his shoulder. “What’s the problem now?”
I noticed no woman had approached Judas, though they eyed him interestingly. One of them even gave him a flying kiss, but the man was blind for hell’s sake.
“Valentina Castro,” The man with blonde head, who appeared to be no less than thirty with wavy hair and black eyes, a light stubble on his chin and a cut, that ran deep and rested on eyebrow, muttered.
“And?”
“She’s refusing to provide any information about Juan Perez unless you meet her…. privately.”
“, .” Donatello snickered.
(She seems to need a good dick.)
“Hmm, arrange a meeting with her.” Judas hummed flickering his finger at the woman who was sucking Carlo. She quickly let go of him and crawled to Judas. Her eyes hooded and a grin on my face. When she reached him, she let her hands run along his muscular thighs. “Not today, beautiful.”
I clenched my jaw. So he was also a flirt. Pervert.
“You’ll meet her?” Dontello’s eyes widened.
” ? , , .” Judas slightly turned his head towards me for the first time we entered this room, and something in me stilled for a whole second as his hand ran along the woman’s long hair. I didn’t know if he meant to regard me, or if it was just a tilt of his head, but I felt something glacial running along my bones. ” , .”
(Why not? She is offering herself like a whore, I’m no saint, Carlo.)
(I see meat, and I jump like a dog.)
“That slut is loose as fuck, but she can be useful when she wants to be… as long as there’s a dick in her pussy.” Everyone laughed. The sound grated on my nerves, making my skin prickle with discomfort.
(That slut is loose as fuck, but she can be useful when she wants to be… as long as there’s a dick in her pussy.)
“And about Mororzov? That bitch better-” A loud voice resonated as Dontello’s hand met with the woman’s face as she swayed and landed on her fours. I quickly jumped on instincts but someone pressed a hand on my shoulder and I looked back to find Kyle hovering over me shaking his head.
“Fuck! You damn slut!” Donatello growled slamming his foot on her face as she wailed. The wine had spilled all over the table and the few droplets managed to land on Judas’s shoes.
“I’m-I’m sorry,” her trembling voice responded.
“Get the waiter-”
“No need,” Judas cruel voice interrupted. And then he tilted his head in my direction, lips curled in a sinister smirk. “She’ll clean it. Won’t you, little bird?”
My heart skipped a beat as I looked at him wide-eyed.
“I-I…” My voice faltered as I felt all eyes turn towards me.
His shades were still over his haunting eyes, but I could still feel the piercing sensation and my stomach coiled in unease. It all felt so mocking, how he was still caressing the woman’s face and she had placed her head on his lap rubbing her cheek on his thigh, while his other arm spread over the couch coiled around my hair.
“Get on your knees,” He commanded with a predatory smirk. And then he leaned, ever so slightly I felt my skin burning as his hand broke the barriers of my hair and found my neck, a small warning, a threatening squeeze and then he whispered sardonically. “Clean the mess you made, ptichka. You wouldn’t want me to force you, don’t you?”
I suddenly recalled his warning in the elevator, and something in me twisted and told me this man was far more dangerous than the one sitting in the room. It took all my strength not to push his hand away and run away. But we both knew what’d happen tomorrow. He’d make my life a living hell as he promised.
I felt a lump forming in my throat, my mouth suddenly dry. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back.
My legs felt weak, and I forced myself to stand up, my limbs felt heavy.
I stepped forward, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. My hands trembled as I reached for a tissue to clean the spill, the mocking laughter echoing in my ears.
I knelt down, my face flushed with shame. My vision blurred as tears welled up again, and I focused on the task at hand, trying to ignore the jeering voices around me. The sticky wine seeped into my fingers, and I fought to keep my hands steady.
“What a lovely slut…” someone else chimed in, their tone dripping with vile. ” – .”
(I am already fucking hard for her.)
“Would love to see her crawl to me.” Another voice added, “Clean it, doll.”
“That’s some obedient thing you got here,” a different man remarked, his laughter cruel and mocking.
“Obedient…” Judas mumbled to himself. And I could feel his amused smile.
“Good girl.” A hand reached down patting my head- cold and large.
I sat there, flushed and paralyzed, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts but unable to settle on a single course of action. My face burned with embarrassment, and I felt tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over and betray my humiliation. The mocking voices blend into a nauseating harshness.
My legs felt weak, and I could barely breathe. Trembling, I sank to my knees, the cold, hard floor pressing against my skin. I tried to focus on the spilt wine, my vision blurring as tears welled up and began to trail down my heated cheeks. My hands shook as I reached out to clean the mess, the sticky liquid seeping into my fingers. Judas pressed his shoe on my hand, gently trailing it on my arm. And I shut my eyes.
My heart pounded, and my breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps. I could feel their eyes on me, their lecherous gazes burning holes into my very soul. I wanted to disappear, to vanish into thin air, but there was no escape. As I wiped his shoes, brown leather, shiny and daunting.
I was about to stand up, my vision was obscured by something light brushing against my face. Blinking through my tears, I saw bills raining down on me like a mocking storm. My jaw tightened as I caught sight of him through the flurry of money, his eyes gleaming with a cruel smirk of satisfaction. He leaned back, exuding arrogance, while a woman’s head rested on his lap, her hair entwined in his fingers as he toyed with it idly.
“You did a good job, little bird,” he mused.
I tried so hard, believe me, I tried to be strong, to not let his words or actions affect me. I tried not to be humiliated, to not let their mocking laughs fill my ears. But when he smiled, my insides broke. My heart shattered and a lone tear rolled down my cheek landing softly on my hand pressed on the ground, just beside his shoe.
I swallowed hard, my hands balled in fists. “Pick up your reward, ptichka.” And I did.
With shaky hands, and a trembling body, I picked up each bill, some were beneath his shoes and I shut my eyes and pulled them from under his shoes. When I was done, my breaths were coming in short. “I-I’d like to take my leave…” I managed to whisper and he just flicked his hand.
“Kyle,” I did not want to hear his voice or look at him. My head lowered and the bills in my hand burned my skin.
“Sir.”
“Drop my little bird.” He said, his head still turned in my direction. “, .”
(Make sure she finds her way back to where her cage is.)
******