My breath stops. The someone at the door isn’t Madam Belova, coming back for me. It’s not even any of the girls. It’s a man dressed in black clothes, his head and face covered by a black mask with only his eyes visible through the smoke-filled hallway.
I know them instantly, the shape, the color, the coldness behind them.
Roman Ivanov.
I suck in a smoke-filled breath and cough. I don’t understand. Did I pass out? Roman Ivanov just opened the door. I don’t know how or why, but he's here, standing in the doorway straight out of my fantasy.
But… he’s real. All of this is real. I know because my lungs burn and my entire body shakes from coughing so much.
"Come."
I freeze.
"Now," he orders.
I try to move but my legs don’t respond. They’re too weak and still frozen in shock. He grabs my arm, swearing under his breath. “For fuck’s sake. Hurry up, we don’t have time.”
He yanks me through the doorway. A spike of adrenaline immediately rushes through me. My legs finally obey, survival instinct kicking into place, overriding the fear, shock and pain.
I follow Roman down the empty hallway, hearing the distant sound of shouts coming from outside. The smoke is so thick I can barely see but he keeps a firm grip on my arm, pulling me through it. We don’t head toward the main exit, instead, he steers us the opposite way, toward the back of the building.
My lungs scream and every breath is agony. My eyes water until everything becomes a blur, but my legs keep going, adrenaline pushing me forward and preventing me from collapsing.
We reach a door. Roman doesn’t seem fazed, he simply shoves it open and cold air hits my face.
Cold air. That must mean… we're outside.I’moutside. For the first time in seven years, I'm outside. The air freezes my lungs. I suck in huge, gasping breaths and cough hard, over and over. My eyes sting as I blink, trying to adjust to the sudden rush of clean air. I catch Roman lifting his mask as we move. He doesn’t slow or stop as he ushers me toward a car parked at the end of the alley.
The pavement is rough under my bare feet on the frozen ground. I accidentally step on something sharp, piercing my heel causing pain to explode through my foot. I cry out and stumble then feel Roman’s grip tighten around my arm, steadying me until we reach the car.
He yanks the door open. "Get in."
I hesitate, glancing back at the brothel. I don’t know why I do this. Maybe I’m still in disbelief and trying to figure out if it’s real or a dream.
"Get in the car, Nala." His voice is hard, impatient like his father’s.
I snap my head toward him, surprised he knows my name. How does he even know about me?
I remind myself to ask him later. Right now, I do as he says and climb in the car. He shuts the door, slides in the driver's seat, and starts the engine.
I stare straight ahead, too scared to look back, terrified I’ll see Madam Belova chasing after us, ready to force me back into that basement. The farther we get, the more the adrenaline fades and the pain returns. Everything everywhere hurts and I’m so exhausted.
Roman on the other hand looks unaffected by everything that just happened. He hasn’t even said a word to me yet. He’s silent, with one hand on the steering wheel, his gaze on the road straight ahead.
This is so strange. I rest my head against the seat, wondering if this is how Alice felt when she fell down the rabbit hole or Lucy after stepping through the wardrobe into Narnia. Must be. Because just like those scenes from my favorite books, it feels like I’ve also fallen into a different world. Someone else’s escape.
I don’t understand how Roman can sit there driving, being so calm as if pulling a random girl out of a basement from a burning building is something he does every other day. Why won’t he say something?
I can’t wait any longer, so I ask. "Where…" My voice is hoarse, raw from the smoke and screaming. I try again. "Where are…" I can't finish, my throat feels like it’s on fire.
"I'm taking you somewhere safe.”
I bunch my brows, repeating the word inside my head.Safe.I don’t understand why he’s doing this. He doesn’t know me, but he’s taking me somewhere safe. None of this makes sense.
"Somewhere my father won't find you.”
Oh. My lips part in surprise. He’s freeing me from the Pakhan? Hope bursts to life inside me. Maybe I can go home, back to America and see my sister. If Roman helped me escape, he might also help me leave the country too.
We drive in silence as my thoughts spin with the possibility of what this could mean for me. Meanwhile, I stare out the window, trying to see Moscow, the city I’ve been locked inside for seven years. It’s impossible, though. The car windows are too dark and no matter how hard I try, all I can see are blurred streaks of passing lights.
