Page 2 of Volatile Waters

CHAPTER TWO

Stolen Control

One does not choose the environment they are born into, so can you truly blame what they become? Can you fault the cruel ones for being monsters when inhumane behavior is all they know? A baby is birthed with a pure soul, but if compassion and empathy are never present from that day forward, the child will eventually lose his natural kindness.

I would know.

And, if tears from victims are treated as victories, is it really a surprise that the same child soon yearns for more wins?

Hiding at the top of the vast staircase, in my father and uncle’s mansion home, I stared down at the devils in disguise—Father and Uncle Семён, which is Russian for Semyon.

Father’s name was Макар, pronounced Makar in English. We all had the same eyes that I would later learn to be considered haunted blue. Our dark hair only intensified the allure.

They stood in our rich foyer, discussing the ‘package’ about to be delivered. Back then, when I was seven, I didn’t see the mockery of the décor—everything being white when my family represented only darkness.

That darkness even hid in the shadows. In those shadows stood more male family members who were trained to watch Father and Uncle’s backs, and other acquisitions I would learn about as I aged. One member, in particular, was a cousin of mine, Кирилл—pronounced Kirill in English. Another I would someday know well was Adrian.

Father suggestively grabbed at his crotch under his fancy suit pants while speaking in our native Russian tongue. “The pictures he sent promise a beauty.”

The men in the shadows hungrily readjusted their stances.

As usual, Mother wasn’t home this night. She was incredibly young and far more interested in spending Father’s money than showing me affection or being present. Yet, I longed for her. Children can be so full of hope.

The dimmed chandelier glowed above while Uncle paced, staring at the closed front doors as if craving them to open and deliver a meal he could devour. “If she is half of what I have imagined, I do not want to sell this one.”

“Personal pet?” Father’s lifted brow danced suggestively.

“To train as we wish, finally.”

It would be only hours before I would understand that Father and Uncle’s employer, a human trafficker deep in the trade, did not appreciate them secretly building their own channels in the same line of business. Father and Uncle were going rogue.

Father wiped at his mouth. “Train as we wish.” He spoke as if he’d desired such an opportunity. Being young, I was unaware of what my father could hunger so much for. But now, as a man, I know he was craving the freedom to be in control.

When the doors opened, a beautiful woman walked through, holding the hand of an older cousin of mine, Uffe. He was casually dressed, but nothing was casual about the evil grin he possessed. The petite woman with huge brown eyes and an enchanting face smiled innocently, unaware of the silent discussion building around her. She even waved to my father and spoke in Romanian. “Hello, I am Marina.”

Father dipped his chin. “Shall we speak English, a language we all know?”

Shyly, Marina nodded, “Of course,” oblivious to the security guards slowly creeping closer.

Uncle told his son, Uffe, “Such a rare sight you are soon to marry.”

Shutting the doors behind him, my cousin chuckled in a disturbing manner. “Marry. Yes.” In Russian, he asked, “Have my money? It better be worth the risk I took getting her here. Marina was marked for ‘him.’”

Father and Uncle were sending their boss a message by stealing his property, this chosen victim who had many hours of deceit invested in her.

Father swallowed as if trying not to drool while replying in Russian, “First, we have a taste.” He stared at Marina while reverting to English. “Then we pay for her.”

The silence was deafening as Marina nuzzled closer to her pretend fiancé, finally sensing the looming danger.

To her horror, my cousin pried her fingers from his arm then shoved her forward. “Make it quick.” He smiled at his victim. “I have a wife waiting for me.” From his front pocket, he retrieved a wedding band and slipped it on the proper finger. In Russian, he growled, “A wife I don’t want to be killed over this betrayal.”

Marina began to tremble. As she stood alone, her shoulders caved in fear. “W-Wife? What is going on, my love?”

Uffe waltzed forward. “Going on?” Grasping the back of Marina’s neck, he pulled her to him, slamming his lips to hers. I could see her body wanting to melt into his, but the reservation couldn’t be denied. Maybe this kiss was different, and on a deep level, she could sense the deception.

Ending the kiss, he licked at her swollen lips. “I wanted to taste you one more time before you are tainted by others.”

Marina pulled from his hold and ran for the door…