by Monica James
Alek nods, pleased with my selection. “Good choice. The food here is really superb.”
“So you come here often?” I innocently ask, reaching for my water.
“Yes,” he reveals casually. “A lot of my friends and I have used this place as a…” He quickly backtracks. “We enjoy their infamous pelmeni. Speaking of which, you must try them. I think you may know this dish as dumplings.”
Alek never backpedals. He’s always guarded with what he reveals. But his mistake has cost him as he let it slip that he and his friends frequent this place. Could some of those friends be a part of The Circle?
“Will I meet more of your friends?”
Alek smiles, gently reaching for my hand on the tabletop. “Yes, you will. You will be introduced to my world because now, you are a part of it.”
I blink once, stunned by his admission. If anyone bar a psychopath were to utter those words, I would be swooning, but coming from Alek, I can’t help but think he has an ulterior motive. “I will take care of you. I know all of this is very…” He searches for the right word. “Weird. But you will soon come to think of Russia as your home. As well as me.”
The evident sincerity in his tone once again throws me for a loop.
“I will try my best, but it’ll take some time.”
“I understand. I wouldn’t expect it any other way. Saint was right about you.”
I gulp, as hearing his name still hurts.
“He said you were different. And you are.”
“Is that why you treat me differently?”
Alek arches a brow, tightening his grip on my hand. “Differently?”
I have to watch my words. “I can’t help but compare your treatment of me to how you treated Zoey. You’re…kinder to me.” I choose that word to praise him because what egomaniac doesn’t like their ego stroked?
It works.
“You and Zoey are miles apart. You are a fine wine while she is…street food.”
This food analogy turns my stomach. Street food? Common? Easy? Basic? Is that how he sees her?
“I thought…what is the term you Americans use? Slumming it?” he proposes, looking at me for confirmation.
I nod slowly, insulted for Zoey.
“Ah, excellent. Slumming it would be fun. And it was at first. But Zoey was uncouth, and in the end, I wanted a lady. Besides, you are a challenge, and I like challenges. There is something quite extraordinary about you.”
His compliments are meant to leave me with the warm and fuzzies, but they only have me more confused. “Thank you. I think.”
My comment wasn’t supposed to be funny, so when a low chuckle leaves Alek, I stare at him like he’s an alien. “You are really one of a kind.”
Robert returns with our wine and carefully pours our drinks. “Have you decided what you’d like to order?”
Alek releases my hand. “Yes. Thank you. We will have a serving of the meat pelmeni. And I will have the steak. Rare. And the red beet salad.” He closes the menu and passes it to Robert.
I don’t know why I assumed he would order my meal for me, but him allowing me to do something simple like place my own order feels liberating. “I’ll have the cabbage soup. Thank you.”
I pass my menu to Robert who nods with a big smile. “Wonderful choice.” It seems we’re suddenly best friends because I am someone of “importance.” From his reaction earlier, I think it’s safe to assume he hasn’t seen one of Alek’s “girlfriends” before.
He makes himself scarce, leaving me alone to make small talk.
But what does one say to someone imprisoning them against their will? How’s the weather seems completely ludicrous.
A small thought scratches at the surface that once upon a time, Saint was also my captor, yet I had no issues talking to him.
“I wanted to talk to you about the masquerade ball,” he says casually. As if devirginizing me in front of a bunch of strangers isn’t a big deal. “I know what you heard sounds awfully…confronting. But I wanted you to know that I will make it as comfortable for you as possible.”
“How?” I spit with heat. It’s out before I can stop myself.
Alek reaches for the glass and swirls the wine around before taking a sip. “The way my friend Oscar explained it probably has you thinking I’ll throw you down on the floor and fuck you senseless while everyone cheers me on.”
My cheeks heat at the description. “And aren’t you?” I challenge, folding my arms across my chest.
“You mistake my affections for you. I would never do that. Not to you,” he adds as my next comment would have asked if he’s done it before. “We will be in my bedroom with only a few close friends in the room.”
No guessing who these friends will be.
“You will be under the covers. It will be discreet. This isn’t something new or perverse. It’s been happening for centuries throughout many cultures.”
His flippant explanation pisses me off. “I assume a white sheet will be laid down so your ‘close friends’ can ensure your bride is a virgin?” I air quote, annoyed. “This is completely barbaric.”
I don’t care that my docile act has slipped. There is no way this is right. And nothing Alek says will ever change my mind.
“I don’t expect you to understand. We are from different worlds. And I realize how hard this is for you.” But he doesn’t realize jack shit.
“You have no idea what it’s like in my position,” I rebuke, shaking my head. “It’s easy for you. All you have to do is roll on top of me, wiggle around for a few seconds, and then get a pat on the back for a job well done.”
My voice is raised, and I am shooting daggers in Alek’s direction, so you can imagine my surprise when I witness a small smirk tug at his full lips. “Is that what you think of me?”
His question catches me off guard, but I soon recover. “You really don’t want to know what I think of you right now.”
No doubt my act is up, and Alek will guarantee my soup is poisoned so he can wipe his hands clean of me. But I’m beginning to see that I should never expect anything when Alek is involved. “On the contrary, I want to know everything.”
He shuffles closer toward me in the booth so our knees touch.
“If you think that’s what sex is like”—his voice drops an octave lower as he leans into me—“then I am so pleased to be your first. I will worship every inch of this glorious body, ensuring no part is left untouched.”
I swallow in disgust but can’t hide my embarrassment when I feel my cheeks flush.
“And only when you’re begging for me…is when I will show you what making love is.”
I’m expecting him to press his lips to mine, give me a sneak peek of what he promises, but he doesn’t. He simply pulls away and reaches for his wine like he didn’t just speak sweet nothings into my ear.
I need a moment to gather my thoughts because what the hell was that?
How dare he assume he can win me over with a seductive voice and some empty promises? Does he expect me to bat my eyelashes and drop my panties now that he’s fed me some bullshit lines? He has another thing coming if he does.
And I want him to know it.
“I will never beg,” I promise.
Alek leans back in the booth, extending his arm out to rest on top of the plush leather. “Never say never, дорогая.”
“What does that mean?”
He smiles and it’s genuine, which startles me. “A number of things, but to me, it means precious, which is what you are.”
I’m thankful when a lady saunters over to say hello because I need a breather from this conversation. However, when I peer up and meet her icy blue eyes, that gratitude turns to dread. Something shifts in Alek, and he appears regretful she caught him in a vulnerable moment.
“Alek, you didn’t tell me you were coming here this evening. And with a friend, no less.” Although her words are playful, nothing about this woman is lighthearted.
Her monster heels add to he
r already tall stature. Dressed in a black jumpsuit, she has a gold laurel leafed headband positioned perfectly in her long ebony hair. Something about her feels…familiar, but not in the sense that I’ve seen her before.
She must feel me staring because she focuses her attention my way. “I’m Astra,” she says, her gold bracelets jingling as she gives me a small wave. “Alek and I have been longtime friends. Isn’t that right?”
Her gaze flicks to Alek, who nods, although something about his demeanor has me wondering why he’s suddenly so uptight. “Yes, that’s right.” He’s quick to recover, but I didn’t miss him clamming up. “This is Willow.”
She purses her ruby lips and examines me closely. “Oh, it’s great to finally meet you. I have heard so much about you.”
She has?
It’s the most bizarre feeling. Why does it feel like I should know her?
She begins to toy with the ruby pendant around her neck, sizing me up. Something turns lethal in Alek as he watches her fingers closely. “I’m so pleased to finally meet the guest of honor. We all can’t wait for the ball. Alek has been keeping you, among other things, a secret.”
My cheeks heat as I clutch my thighs to stop from throwing my knife at her head.
She clearly knows the real reason for this ball, which means she’s one of the “close friends.” Could she be a part of The Circle?
She definitely looks the part of wicked witch with her long black hair and ruby lips…
The fairest of them all…
An epiphany hits, leaving me winded. Oh, my god.
Alek and Astra make small talk while I frantically skim over Saint’s journal in my head. I didn’t understand what he was trying to say because I was looking at it the wrong way. He has left me breadcrumbs, clues he knew I would eventually work out because what he left me was a…code.
The incorrect sudoku puzzle should have been enough of a clue because Saint doesn’t make mistakes. The sentences made of numbers decipher like a Morse Code as each number represents a letter. And the sudoku puzzle is the key to figuring out what each number means.
I can hardly contain my excitement.
I then remember the ambiguous flowchart. They are people. Three people, to be precise. And Astra is one of them.
But I need to be sure.
Saint said six dwarfs. I glance around the room, looking for any clues, something which will confirm my hunch. And when I see it, I stop myself from leaping from my seat and screaming amen.
In a larger booth a few tables down, I see six men. From their look alone, one can see they aren’t here to enjoy the fine dining. They are here to protect their…queen. They keep a very close eye on Astra, which confirms they are here for her.
“Let’s talk about these matters another time,” Alek says, a clear warning that Astra is crossing a very thin line.
His caution has me snapping from my thoughts to focus on what’s going on around me.
“Gladly, but you’re too busy, it seems, of late, to discuss anything with your friends.”
He is? This is news to me.
“And we have much to discuss.” Astra may be smiling, but a grievous threat lurks beneath. She isn’t a woman who appreciates being ignored.
“Chow—”
The moment I hear his name, a tremble passes through me. Alek senses my discomfort and quickly shuts Astra down. “Now is not the time.” He is seconds away from ripping off her head.
I’m watching the ultimate standoff because Astra doesn’t seem like the type to back down. She eventually nods even though her anger is palpable.
“Very well then. I’ll see you very soon, Willow.”
Astra’s grin should fill one with warmth, but it does the complete opposite for me. She appears to be sizing up her prey.
I nod in response.
She saunters back to her table, waving to a few people along the way.
Robert arrives with our food, and although it smells delicious, eating is the last thing on my mind. I need to get back “home” and decode Saint’s journal.
Alek reaches for the napkin, offering to plate up a serving of pelmeni. “I’m sorry about that. She doesn’t know when to quit. Bon appetite.”
His apology surprises me.
“Bon appetite,” I reply, but unbeknownst to Alek, I am hungry not for food but, rather, for uncovering what the hell is going on.
Day 56
“UGH,” I GROAN, falling back onto the pillows. Massaging my temples, I wonder if the action will help me see through the fog clouding my brain for the past two days.
Saint clearly gave me more credit than I deserve because I’m no closer to decoding his journal. After dinner, I moved into his old room. It surprised me how quickly he was replaced because apart from the wallpaper, the bedroom looked completely different.
It saddened me that my things were brought in because I would have preferred to sleep in a room where his scent and presence still lingered. But Alek wouldn’t have it. It seems out of sight, out of mind, but Saint never strays far from my thoughts.
I haven’t heard from him yet. I assume he has a lot to take care of. Zoey, for one. I wonder if he’ll take her back home or rehabilitate her here, saving their parents further heartache. I have so many questions, but sadly, those answers will have to wait because until I hear from Saint, I’m left guessing.
I scoured the room for cameras, and when I was pretty certain I was not under surveillance, I perched myself on the bed with Saint’s journal on my lap and went to work. It didn’t take me long to work out that The Circle has three game players.
Astra is one.
The Oscar Wilde quote had me guessing that Saint was hinting Oscar, the vile man I met nights ago, was another imperative piece to the puzzle.
Which just leaves me with one more person.
I have stared at Saint’s clue for endless hours but am at a complete loss at what seven deadly sins +2 means. The numbers in the sudoku box are even more cryptic. It’s so frustrating because I know the answer is there, but I just don’t know what it is.
When a knock sounds on my door, I quickly spring into action and hide the journal under the mattress. The switchblade sits in my back pocket. I’m ready. But when it opens and I see Sara, I sigh in relief. She enters and softly closes the door behind her.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. We need a secret knock.”
I smile because, in light of everything, it’s nice to have a comrade in arms.
“I have to be quick, but I have a letter. It’s from Saint.” I watch as she hunts through her pocket to retrieve an envelope.
“You saw him?” I ask, my trembling voice betraying my happiness.
She nods and walks over, passing the note to me. “He’s still in Russia. In a safe place. With Zoey. He told me to give you this. It’ll help with figuring out his journal.”
“Yes!” I exclaim, unable to hide my excitement.
Unable to wait, I rip the envelope open and unfold the sheet of paper. The moment I see Saint’s handwriting, a nostalgia hits, and I slump onto the end of the bed, afraid my feet won’t hold me up. I scan over it, and even though it doesn’t make any sense, I clutch the paper to my chest, needing a minute. “Ho-how is he?”
Sara appears just as nostalgic as I am. “He’s Saint.” Her response elicits a playful scoff from me because I know what she means. “He wanted me to tell you he made a new friend.”
I pale, bracing for the worst, but what she says has me laughing.
“Harriet Pot Pie the Second?” She phrases it as a question because to anyone but Saint and me, it doesn’t make a lick of sense. “He said you’d know what that means.”
“I do,” I confirm, unable to stop smiling. “It was the name of my pet chicken when I was shipwrecked with him.”
Sara nods with half a grin.
“Chicken would mean he’s probably out of the city then?”
“Yes, he’s hiding somewhere remote, no doubt, but he didn’t tell me whe
re. He knew where I was because this time every week, I pick up Alek’s shirts from the dry cleaners. Just like clockwork.”
“Thank you, Sara. I know this is dangerous for you.”
She shakes her head. “I will do anything to see Alek go down. He has to pay for what he has done. I have to go. I’ll check in on you later.”
When she closes the door behind her, I slowly peer down at the note, which is the alphabet divided up into four grids, similar to the sudoku boxes. I stare at them, completely puzzled. Beside them is the alphabet, but beneath each letter are symbols I have never seen before. Some have dots in them.
Underneath that is just a row of numbers, reaching twenty-five. Beneath that are sums. And a lot of them. I decide to start with them because they are your basic equations.
0+3=3
7+1=8
And so on.
I know Saint loves math, but this is ridiculous. There is a pattern, but why couldn’t it be as easy as ABC…
However, when I take a closer look, I see that it is.
Unable to keep up, I quickly finish the answers and then match them with the letters in the alphabet because each answer correlates to a letter.
0 is A
1 is B
2 is C
When I match the answers, they read:
Aнгел, I’m sorry for the secrecy. I couldn’t risk anyone intercepting. I had to do it this way in case they found my journal. The above code is pigpen cipher. It will help you decode the journal. The sudoku box works in a similar way.
Stay safe.
Saint.
I read the note endless times because never have I been so happy to see a bunch of numbers in my life. You expect to see something like this in a James Bond film. I wonder which actor would pull off this ploy best, seeing as there have been many actors who have…
Oh, my god.
Scampering off the bed, I drop to my knees and reach under the mattress to retrieve the journal. I flick open the pages crazily, and when I reach the sentence I’m looking for, I holler in excitement.