I’d had enough.
The last straw was my dad’s decision to marry me off to Alex Jordan because he did business with his father and this merger would benefit both families. He just informed me of it, as if it was a done deal.
As if my life belonged to him, and I was a doll with no emotion. And before I could even protest, he reminded me how much my life depended on him, since I worked in his company and helped him out. He had a heart attack one year ago and the responsible daughter in me stepped in right after graduation, in hopes of taking away his burden just for a while. I never expected my sacrifice to be thrown in my face.
I had one prestigious degree, but no job, because all my energy went into the family business to help my dad. My one true love was photography, but even that relationship ended. I poured all my energy into family business, and constant rejection letters from galleries, newspapers and magazines didn’t help my case. My website didn’t have much luck either. No one visited it, and I had to constantly listen to my dad crack jokes about his investments in my little hobby because it brought no profit. Although how he considered buying me a professional cameraafew years ago an investment was beyond me.
Who the hell lived like that? Without self-respect where no one cared about my desires, hopes,and dreams? How could I have allowed it? Were all those luxuries worth it? Was the fear oftheunknown worth it?
I used to think it was.
But not anymore.
For the first time in my life, I was showing my middle finger to responsibilities, duties, and everything else that implied I had to be the perfect kid whilemy life passed by like a blur.
Fuck this shit.
No more.
Grabbing my bag in one hand while the other reached down for the luggage, I glanced one last time at the place I called home. I used to adore the massive ranch house where you could appreciate the beauty of nature.
Now, looking at it made me feel nothing butnauseous. My own prison that was slowly suffocating the life from me, and to survive, I had to get away.
Before anyone could stop me, I climbed inside a cab, put my sunglasses on, and gazed ahead.
Nothing in this world could have changed my plans.
Life was waiting for me.
April 2017
Radmir
Leaning on the cold tile, I groaned as the hot beads of water eased my sore muscles while the shower stall filled with steam. The dirty water at my feet went down the drain, taking the prison time and all the filth from that place with it. I soaped myself up, savoring the luxury of not being tense or always having to look over my shoulder in case of danger.
Such small things as a shower, which are a necessity, can strip you of your pride or anything else in prison. I could never allow myself to shower properly when someone was there with me. People should fucking cherish the things they have and not take them for granted.
The water started to chill, so I closed the valve and got out, picked up a towel, wrapped it around my hips, and then exhaled loudly as I curled my toes into the fluffy fucking carpet.
Such a contrast to the rugged, cold, broken tile in prison. I still had a few blisters and cuts on my feet from the last time someone smashed a glass on the floor and took away my shoes so I would step on the shards.
Life in prison was no fucking piece of cake; someone made sure of it. The amount of shit I got there could only be explained by a personal vendetta against me. Those people missed one important fact though.
Don’t send sheep to kill a wolf.
Each beating, fight, scar, pain only made me stronger so I could survive for my revenge.
Wiping away the fog from the mirror with my palm, I studied my reflection, trying to recognize this bearded beast of a male with Mohawk haircut as Radmir Abdulabekov.
I used to be the most clean-cut one from the Bratva. Suits, sophisticated haircuts, and usually clean-shaven. But now, several new scars marked my chest and back from knife wounds. New tattoos across my hands and back provided a permanent memory of the years I lost, and finally, rough, damaged skin from the beatings that would never be the same.
My eyes, which used to be gray with laughter and mischief, held nothing but fury and anger at the injustice served me.
Growling at the unsettling thoughts, I turned off the light and stepped into the room only to stop dead in my tracks as I noticed a stranger there.
A young woman with long blonde locks was decked out in a tight black dress that barely reached her thighs, and high heels, which allowed her hips to sway from side to side as she approached me. Her green eyes slid down my body as they lit with appreciation at my physique.
I liked sex as much as the next guy and had often amused myself by treating my one-night stands with expensive dinners and good manners, but none of them meant anything.
