The Russian Unleashed

by Red Phoenix

  I know what I need right now and tell Titov. “Call the Pravda. Tell them I’m coming with all of my friends.”

  “How many should I say to expect?”

  I smirk. “A lot.”

  I pull out my phone and go through my contact list, calling all of my friends who live in the Moscow area, including my fighting buddies and my BDSM family. “Feel free to bring a friend or two. I plan to party big tonight.”

  On the drive to the club, I take off my jacket and undo my tie, tossing them on the seat. Then I roll up my sleeves and undo several buttons of my shirt. I lie back and sigh.

  I’m beginning to feel more like myself.

  A night drinking with my compatriots is exactly what I need after such a disastrous reunion with my mother’s father—I can no longer think of him as my grandfather.

  On a whim, I call Thane and joke, “Moy droog, I am headed to Pravda right now. Want to join me?”

  He laughs. “Sure, let me jump in a transporter and meet you there.”

  “It is a shame you live so far away.”

  “Agreed. How are you holding up?”

  My voice catches for a second. “Doing well, comrade. How about you?”

  “Working hard.”

  I chuckle. “You’re such a peasant.”

  “Dick.”

  I look down at my crotch and grin. “I plan to use mine tonight. How about you?”

  “Unfortunately, I have to burn the midnight oil at the office tonight.”

  “You need to get a life, brother. All work and no play makes Thane a complete bore.”

  “You’re such a fucking aristocrat, you know that?” He laughs into the phone. “I highly recommend you get a job. You’d be surprised how good feeling productive can be and you’ll enjoy your time off that much more.”

  “You do have a point, peasant.”

  “You love throwing that word around, don’t you?”

  “Da. It pleases me.”

  Thane chuckles. “Well, it’s ten in the morning here and this peasant has to get back at it. Trust me, I’ll be thinking about my annoying friend partying his ass off while I work for my money.”

  I smile, profoundly grateful for our brotherhood. It grounds me.

  “I’ll make a toast in your honor, moy droog.”

  “Do me a favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “Say something nice when you do.”

  I laugh as I hang up the phone.

  “Igor. Titov. Send for reinforcements. You two are getting the night off so you can party with me.”

  I hear the hard base of the rave music as I get out of the car. There is something primal and addictive about the sound. It reverberates through my body and my spirits start to lift as we enter the building.

  Slapping Titov hard on the back, I ask, “Are you ready to have some fun?”

  He shakes his head. “You’re crazy, Anton.”

  Hearing him say my name instantly makes me think of my mother. She was the one who chose that name. It makes my heart ache to think of her, and that’s not what I need right now.

  I lean toward Titov. “Don’t call me by my given name again. It is reserved for my mother and she is gone now.”

  He looks at me in confusion but answers. “Yes, gospodin.”

  I clap him on the back again, forcing a smile. “This is the beginning of a new chapter. Let’s celebrate!”

  After the bartender pours the club’s best vodka for me and my entourage, I hand a glass to Titov. “Tell the DJ to pause the music for a moment. I want to make a toast.”

  The instant the music stops, people look around, wondering what’s happening. I stand on the bar and address the huge crowd. “I am glad you all came to celebrate with me tonight. In a world of uncertainty, there are two things you can count on—death and vodka.”

  They shout their agreement.

  “In honor of that, drinks are on me tonight. Enjoy!”

  A huge cheer rises up as the servers start passing out shots to everyone. I look at Titov, raise my glass and throw it back.

  Tonight is not a night for sadness; it is a new beginning. Just like a caterpillar, I must discard my old body and embrace the new form of a moth.

  I nod to the DJ and the music starts up again.

  I ask for another round for my entourage. “A toast for Thane Davis, who cannot be with us tonight. I would not be here without him.”

  They hold up their glasses and we down the shots together.

  “Now, go out and party.”

  I walk out to the dance floor and notice the girl with the long hair that I scened with at the dungeon. She’s dancing with girlfriends and immediately bows her head when I walk up.

  “Shall we dance?” I ask.

  “I would be honored, Rytsar.”

  I lean in. “Tonight we’re just a vanilla couple meeting on the dance floor. No protocols.”

  Her eyes sparkle as she readily meets my gaze. “Yes, Rytsar.”

  I graze her lips with my fingers. “No need to answer my command.”

  As we dance, I look her over with appreciation. Her moves are graceful and she has a playful energy about her. Something about it reminds me of Tatianna.

  When I see Alexei in the crowd, I excuse myself and walk over to him.

  He breaks into a grin as I walk up. “What’s going on, Silencer? Everyone is talking about you tonight!”

  I shrug. “Not much. Received some inheritance and decided to share it by throwing a party with my friends.”

  “I’ve never been happier to call you a friend.” He looks over the dance floor. “The women here are hot.”

  “I wish you luck. But remember these women are my friends, too. You better treat them right.”

  He looks at me in shock and holds his hands up. “I’m always kind to the ladies.”

  “Want to do a shot before you head out to the dance floor?”

  “Always!”

  My friends surround me and it feels unbelievably good.

  I make the traditional Russian toast “Za tvajo zdarovje!” as I down shots throughout the evening.

  When I move to the dance floor again, a circle of beautiful women gather around me and begin to dance. I turn in place so I face each one as we dance.

  I give in to the electronic sound of the music, letting its beat course through me. I have never felt so alive and charged to take on whatever lies ahead.

  I wake up in expensive sheets. I turn over slowly to see that kroshka is lying naked beside me. I have to assume we had a wild night together, though I remember nothing about it.

  Looking around the room, I realize I am in an upper-class hotel but have no idea how I got here.

  Quietly getting out of bed, my head starts to pound. I slip on my pants, grab my wallet, and locate my cell phone.

  I leave the room and see one of my men standing guard. It’s strange to think that this is my life now.

  “Stay here and guard my guest.”

  “Yes, gospodin.”

  I immediately call Titov. “Where are you?”

  “In the lobby, waiting for you.”

  A woman walks past me, looking me up and down as she stares at my bare chest and feet then frowns at me with disdain.

  Dear God, don’t ever let me get that judgmental.

  I head to the elevator and nod to the bellhop as we go down. I’m impressed by his extravagant uniform and realize this place must be one of the most expensive hotels in Moscow.

  Even the music in the elevator is high class—a classical piece by the famous Russian composer Pyotr Tchaikovsky. I enjoy his music, and it saddens me to know that he was sentenced to suicide imposed in a “court of honor” by his fellow alumni. Such great talent lost for something as trivial as his sexual orientation. While many condemned him, I only know him through his music and he was a musical genius. Tragically, he died under such horrific circumstances, and yet his music remains beloved by millions worldwide.

  When I exit the elevator, I find
Titov waiting for me. He directs me to a table that has already been laid out with food. Several patrons give me the once over for my state of undress, but I ignore them, suddenly realizing how hungry I am.

  I grab a blini from the platter, eating it plain.

  I’m surprised to see Alexei walk by with a girl wrapped around his arm. “Thank you, Silencer,” he says gratefully.

  I nod to him, then turn to Titov. “What happened last night?”

  “When the club closed, you didn’t want the party to end and insisted that everyone spend the night here.”

  “Everyone?”

  “You were very insistent.”

  I smirk as I sit back in my seat, looking over the foyer with its giant crystal chandelier. “Well, I must say I have good taste.”

  “Only the best,” he chuckles. “You have over four hundred very grateful people to vouch for it.”

  “That many?”

  Titov nods.

  I hold out the platter to him. “Eat.”

  When he protests, I raise an eyebrow.

  He dutifully takes an elaborate buterbrod from the platter.

  “I noticed that I have a girl in my room,” I state casually as I watch him eat.

  “Yes, the two of you hit it off exceptionally well last night,” he tells me before taking another bite of the buterbrod.

  I frown. “I don’t remember anything after dancing on the bar.”

  “Would you like a rundown?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “First, you challenged several people to arm wrestling.”

  “Did I win?”

  “Yes, until Goncharov. It wasn’t even a contest, but you insisted he try to beat you again.”

  “Did he?”

  “Easily.”

  I grin. “I don’t like to lose.”

  “You don’t, but you did three more times before he called it a draw.”

  I laugh out loud. “Goncharov is a good man.”

  “You then challenged people to a drinking game, insisting on the version of Russian Roulette similar to the shell game.”

  I chuckle. “No wonder I don’t remember a thing. Tell me, did I drink everyone under the table?”

  “You did.”

  I slam my hand down on the table. “Because nobody outdrinks a Durov!”

  “I know. Which is why I refused to play.”

  I smile at him proudly. “That is why you are my right-hand man.”

  I’m satisfied with his answers, but I glance at the elevator in concern. “I need to check on kroshka. Tell the men to get ready to leave, but not until you finish your meal.”

  “What about you? You’ve hardly touched it.”

  “I don’t need to eat. I’m high on life, Titov!” I laugh as I head to the elevator.

  I ask the bellmen to send a breakfast up to my room for kroshka and slip him some bills. When I arrive at my room, I realize I don’t have a key.

  I chuckle when the man guarding my door uses a spare key to open it for me.

  “Appreciated.”

  He nods, a slight smile on his face.

  Kroshka’s eyes light up the instant she sees me. “I was afraid you weren’t coming back.”

  I cup her chin in my hand. “I never leave a woman in my bed without a proper goodbye.”

  When I kiss her, I am unsettled by the look she gives me. I have a bad feeling that last night may have been more than a satisfying romp.

  “I am going to clean up. Your breakfast should be arriving soon.”

  I jump in the shower, hoping I’m wrong. I don’t normally bed a woman after a night of heavy drinking. It’s disconcerting not to recall what happened between us.

  After I towel off, I return to the room and find her breakfast has arrived. She immediately stands up and fixes her gaze to the floor.

  “Please, sit down and eat,” I tell her gently as I gather my clothes. Once dressed, I join her at the table.

  “How are you this morning?”

  She smiles. “Wonderful!”

  I chuckle uncomfortably and admit, “I don’t remember what happened last night.”

  I can see a flash of hurt in her eyes, but she tells me, “I never knew how gentle you could be…”

  Her voice is full of such adoration, I hesitate to ask, “Did I say anything of consequence last night?”

  She blushes. “You called me vorobyshek.”

  My heart aches when I hear that I called her by Tatianna’s pet name. “That was wrong of me.”

  She laughs lightly. “Why? I thought it was sweet.”

  I hate to speak of my past but realize I must. “That name belongs to my soulmate.” My voice catches when I add, “…she is no longer with us.”

  Kroshka looks at me sadly. “I had no idea.”

  I shake my head. “I prefer not to speak of it because the pain of losing her never leaves me.”

  When kroshka reaches out to me, I instinctively pull away.

  “I am sorry. I never meant to put you in that position last night.”

  She looks at me with sympathy. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it is not.” I stand up and begin pacing, my heart suddenly thrown into turmoil.

  “May I speak?” she asks softly.

  I stop and turn to face her, nodding because I cannot trust myself to talk.

  “You are a man of great passion. I find that extremely attractive about you. I am honored that I was able to act as a comfort for you.”

  I shake my head when I see the look of love in her eyes and explain, “You don’t understand. I can never love another.”

  She rises from the chair and kneels on the floor, holding out her hands, palms up. “I offer myself to you freely, Rytsar. You do not need to love me.”

  Her offer tears at my heart.

  I take her hand and help her to her feet. “I am no good for anyone. I will only end up breaking your heart.”

  “I am willing to have it broken.”

  Her willingness sends a chill through me.

  I brush away a lock of long black hair from her face and look deep into her eyes. “But I respect you too much to ever do such a thing.”

  Her Cry

  Now that I have acquired a top security team, I make my first move against the Bratva. Knowing money speaks louder than words, I give a public statement about how I am funding a special police task force dedicated to stopping human trafficking in Russia.

  During the press meeting, I look directly into the camera when I declare, “Underground slavery must end once and for all. I will be funding an elite task force dedicated to catching the maggots behind this inhuman practice. We will not stop until they are behind bars and slavery is eliminated from our society. No one is safe from my team’s scrutiny.”

  The warning shot has been fired…

  I am grateful this action, along with the rescue of the girl, has brought the issue to the forefront of people’s minds. With concentrated effort, I hope to keep it there.

  I’m prepared for pushback from the Bratva, and am ready for an attack.

  However, I have no idea of the ripples of change I have just created and am caught off guard when one of my servants enters my office and announces, “Gospodin, there is a young woman who would like to speak with you.”

  I frown. Countless women have hit me up since word of my inheritance started circulating. “Tell her I am not interested in speaking with anyone.”

  He clears his throat. “She has a special request.”

  I growl in frustration. “I have no time for interruptions. Send her away.”

  When he refuses to budge, I glare at the man. “What is it?”

  “I believe you will want to speak with her, gospodin.”

  “Who is she?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why all this mystery?” I growl at him.

  He states quietly, “I know you will not turn her away.”

  Frustrated with his answers, I snarl. “Fine. Bring her in.”

 
“She refuses to enter.”

  I am about to take the man’s head off, but take a couple of deep breaths instead, and ask through gritted teeth, “Why?”

  “She says she is unclean, gospodin.”

  Suddenly, my entire perspective changes. “Where is she?”

  “The servants’ entrance.”

  “Stay here,” I order, leaving to answer the door myself.

  What I see breaks my heart.

  The young woman standing on the porch is all skin and bones, with tattered clothes and unkempt hair.

  I feel overwhelming compassion for her. “What’s your name?”

  She scratches her head, literally shaking when she answers in a frightened voice, “Vosem’.”

  The number eight…

  Her answer crushes me, because I know slavers often dehumanize their victims by giving them a number to replace their name.

  I immediately beckon her to come inside.

  “No…I’m unclean.” She steps back, scratching her head again.

  “Come in out of the cold,” I command warmly, gesturing to her to enter.

  She hesitates for a moment but follows me inside. I tell a servant to bring us food as I lead her to a private room.

  “Please sit.”

  She shakes her head, looking upset. “No. I will dirty it.”

  I place my hand over my heart. “You are a guest in my home. Please sit.”

  She does so reluctantly, sitting on the very edge of the seat. She swipes her nose as her gaze darts around the room.

  “What do you need?”

  The girl glances at the door, suddenly looking scared and it seems like she might run.

  I say nothing, afraid if I break the silence, she will bolt out the door.

  “I saw you…” she begins in a meek voice. When the girl looks up and meets my gaze, I notice her eyes are dilated. I’m unsure if it’s only from fear.

  “Where?”

  “In the papers.” Her lips tremble, but then she says in a hopeful voice, “You rescued that girl.”

  I nod. “She is safe.”

  She clasps her hands together nervously, her whole body visibly shaking.

  “How can I help you?”

  The girl instantly tenses when a servant knocks on the doorframe before entering with a tray of food.

  I get up and take the tray, silently sending the servant out of the room.