The Russian Unleashed

by Red Phoenix

  Laying it on the side table next to her, I pour us both of a glass of hot tea and hand a cup to her.

  My heart constricts when I see just how skeletal her hand is as she takes it. It’s so reminiscent of Tatianna’s condition when we found her.

  After I sip the tea, I pick up a sandwich and take a bite.

  I hear her stomach growl and watch as she hesitantly reaches for one. I notice the tracks of needle marks on her arm and the hairs on my neck rise.

  Staying calm, I ask, “What happened to you?”

  She looks at me for a moment, then puts the sandwich down and lowers her eyes, her bottom lip quivering. “They hurt me.”

  Goosebumps rise on my skin, and my protective instincts take over. “You are safe here. No one will hurt you, but you need to see a doctor.”

  The color drains from her face and she looks as if she might faint. “Zuyev will find me!” she cries in a terrified voice.

  “I can send for a doctor. You don’t have to leave this place,” I assure her.

  The girl looks at me with frightened eyes but nods. I now know her pupils are dilated because she is suffering from withdrawal. I pull out my phone and call my physician, asking him to send a female doctor for the house call.

  I glance at the girl as I speak to him. She stares at me like a scared rabbit.

  Understanding the girl needs sustenance, I hold up my sandwich and smile. “Might as well eat while we wait.”

  I take an unhurried bite and wink at her while I chew, acting as if this is completely normal.

  After several moments, she picks up her sandwich and begins nibbling on it.

  I have no idea what this young woman has been through, but I admire her courage in coming here to seek help. Rather than pepper her with questions, I focus my efforts on getting her to eat.

  Questions can wait.

  When Dr. Morozova arrives, I get up to leave the room so she can perform the examination.

  “Please don’t go,” the girl cries as I start toward the door.

  I glance at Dr. Morozova.

  I feel uncomfortable remaining in the room. However, I don’t want the girl to feel abandoned and promise her, “I will be right outside the door if you need me.”

  I close the door and stand there for over an hour.

  When Dr. Morozova opens it again, the girl’s tearstained face concerns me. She nods to the girl and gives her a reassuring smile before shutting the door.

  “How is she?”

  “I was able to get her parent’s number and am going to call them. I’ll speak to you afterward.”

  She leaves to make the call but returns minutes later with a distressed expression on her face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She looks at me in despair. “Her parents want nothing to do with her.”

  “What?” I growl, unable to fathom it.

  “The father mumbled something about her being tainted now.”

  I snarl. “How can the man have such a callous heart?”

  Dr. Morozova frowns. “Some families cannot bear the shame of rape.”

  “Shame? The girl has done nothing wrong!”

  Dr. Morozova glances at the door, stating, “Unfortunately, they refuse to take her back.”

  I close my eyes, rage churning inside me.

  “I’ll make calls to locate a family who can take her in temporarily until they can find a more permanent residence,” she assures me. “But Lada has immediate health concerns and will need psychological care.”

  I remember taking all these steps after rescuing Tatianna. Being welcomed back into the loving bosom of her family wasn’t enough to save her—and this girl doesn’t even have that.

  I couldn’t bear it if this child becomes another statistic, so I inform the doctor, “I will pay for all of her medical needs.”

  “It can take years to recover in cases like this,” she warns me.

  “I’ll consider it money well spent.”

  I open the door to check on Lada and almost hit the girl, who’s been leaning against it.

  “They don’t want me…?” she whimpers.

  The look of pain in her eyes cuts me like a knife.

  Dr. Morozova explains to Lada that she will be taking her to get help but the girl runs to me. Wrapping her thin arms around me tightly, she cries, “Don’t let her take me. I don’t want to die.”

  “You’re not going to die, Lada. Dr. Morozova is taking you someplace safe to recover.”

  “Please don’t let her take me!” she whimpers.

  I look at Dr. Morozova, unsure of what to do.

  She gives me a sympathetic look as she puts her arms around the girl. “Come with me, Lada. I promise you’ll be safe, and we will get you the help you need.”

  Dr. Morozova tries unsuccessfully to pull the girl from me, but Lada clings to me with all of her strength and starts weeping.

  Dr. Morozova looks at me in distress. “I’ll need your help, Mr. Durov.”

  “It’ll be okay,” I assure Lada as I attempt to pry her arms gently from me, but she only tightens her grip.

  “Please don’t make me leave. I don’t want to die.”

  Her words stab me in the heart.

  I feel conflicted as I finally pull her from me and Dr. Morozova starts leading her toward the door.

  The girl holds out an outstretched hand to me, begging, “Please…I don’t want to die!”

  She starts screaming hysterically as she’s led down the hallway.

  The sound of her cries claws at my soul. I don’t know what she is afraid of, but I can’t ignore her call for help. “Stop!”

  Dr. Morozova turns around, beads of sweat rolling down her face as she struggles to keep hold of the girl.

  “Lada can stay. I will make the appropriate arrangements.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I nod.

  The moment the doctor lets go, Lada makes a beeline for me and crashes against my body. The poor thing is trembling like a leaf.

  Dr. Morozova looks at her with compassion and tells me, “I need to talk with you alone before I leave, Mr. Durov.”

  I take the girl back to the room and hand her a pastry. “Eat this while I speak with the doctor.”

  She wipes the tears from her eyes before taking the pastry from me.

  When I rejoin Dr. Morozova, she explains, “Lada is suffering from heroin withdrawals. I will send a nurse to support her. In the meantime, she’ll need to be treated for lice. I suspect she may have an STD but must wait until the results come back before we can begin medical treatment. Until then, Lada must get plenty of fluids and rest.”

  “I will see to it. Thank you, Doctor.”

  While one of my servants escorts Dr. Morozova out, I return to the girl. “A nurse will be coming to help you recover.”

  She looks up at me, tears welling in her eyes.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I assure her.

  “But, the doctor told me I have lice.” She touches her matted hair as the tears start to fall. “I’m sorry.”

  I chuckle, running my hand over my bald head. “It’s not a problem for me.”

  I see the barest of smiles. It gives me hope for her future.

  While she nibbles at her pastry, I pull out my phone and call Titov, who is currently out running an errand. “I need you to return. Something has come up…”

  Hours later, after Lada has been cleaned, fed, and pampered by my staff, she lies resting in a room in the east wing.

  I sigh heavily as I sit down next to Titov. “I woke up this morning with no idea who Lada Belova was…until she showed up on my doorstep.”

  “She was brave to come to you.”

  I look at him sadly. “You should have seen her, Titov. So much like Tatianna, it was almost like seeing a ghost.”

  “But she isn’t a ghost. She’s still living.”

  I shudder, still haunted by the morning’s events. “Oh, God, if you could have heard her screaming as the doctor tried t
o take her away. I have never heard such terror. It chilled me to the bone…”

  Titov looks at me knowingly. “It was not Tatianna you heard. Erase that from your mind.”

  I fight back the tears when he voices my inner thoughts.

  “Tatianna died knowing she was loved,” Titov assures me. “Whatever happened before, she died knowing she was loved.”

  I nod, unable to speak.

  “This girl came to you because she knew you would help.”

  My voice cracks when I tell him, “There are so many out there like her, Titov.”

  He nods gravely.

  I close my eyes, remembering the day I lost Tatianna. The yellow flowers, the floor covered in crimson…her lifeless eyes…

  I choke out, “I don’t want anyone else to die.”

  Titov sobs, “I know.”

  We sit there in silence, reliving her death in our own private hells.

  I take a deep breath, thinking back on something Lada said when she first arrived.

  “Titov…”

  He looks at me with red-rimmed eyes. “What, gospodin?”

  “Is there someone of note in the Bratva named Zuyev?”

  He nods. “The name does sound familiar.”

  “Depending on what I find out about him, I may need to pay him a visit.”

  “Yes, gospodin.”

  I look around the expansive room with a feeling of disgust. So much wasted space…

  I do not feel at home here, and I am starting to feel like a rat in a cage.

  Thinking about Lada, an idea strikes me. “Lada needs extensive care—anyone would after what she’s been through. What if we convert the east wing into a refuge for victims? It could act as a safe haven while they recover, and they would be surrounded by the best medical and psychological staff to aid their recovery.”

  Titov sits up in his chair. “Go on.”

  “I won’t be the one to run it, of course. It’s important we hire someone to lead this endeavor who has experience dealing successfully with the challenges these victims face. But they must also have an impeccable reputation. With so many broken girls, it’s imperative we ensure a safe environment to protect their wellbeing.”

  “Agreed, gospodin.”

  “These girls will need twenty-four seven care, so we would need to house the nursing staff, as well.”

  “But where would you live?”

  “I’ll move to an apartment. I’ve been eyeing the new International Business Center. I hear it’s a good mix of residential, business, and entertainment. I think it would be good to be closer to the action.”

  “Are you sure you want to take all this on?” Titov asks with concern.

  “You didn’t hear her screams, Titov. I will never forget those screams until the day I die.”

  Now that I have a plan of action, I can finally breathe again.

  I excuse myself and walk through the empty mansion with a growing sense of peace. This place holds a mixture of sweet and bitter memories for me. Despite everything that has happened, I still feel Mamulya’s presence in this place.

  Using the mansion in this way will not only honor my mother’s gentle spirit but Tatianna’s, as well.

  I wander out into the night. Looking up at the stars, I think of them both.

  Kissing two fingertips, I hold them up to the heavens.

  Lada asks if she can join me for breakfast the next day.

  The girl looks like a different person with her brown hair cut and styled and a good night’s sleep.

  I stand up when she enters the room. “You look rested.”

  She smiles slightly.

  I point to the chair beside me at the table. “Please have a seat.”

  I nod to my servant, who leaves to get another table setting.

  “How are you feeling, Lada?”

  She meets my gaze with those round, tortured eyes and says only one word. “Safe.”

  The profound weight of that simple word hits me and I struggle to keep my emotions in check. “Good.”

  The servant returns and places the setting in front of her.

  I notice the queasy look on her face and tell her, “Start small.”

  After pouring her a cup of tea, I butter a piece of black bread and place it on her plate.

  I slather butter on another piece and take a bite. “Nothing like warm bread in the morning.”

  She nods and takes a small bite to please me.

  I know from experience that she has a long and difficult journey ahead.

  “How old are you?”

  “Fifteen.”

  The moment I hear how young Lada is, my blood begins to burn with the need for vengeance. I take another bite of bread and chew it slowly, fighting down my rage so I don’t scare the girl.

  Instead, I ask her about mundane things to keep the conversation light because I want her to continue eating.

  She stops at one point and whispers, “There are others…”

  The hairs on my neck rise. “I promise we will rescue them, Lada.”

  “They’ll be moved because I escaped.”

  “We will find them,” I assure her.

  She nods, swallowing hard as she looks down at her plate.

  A nurse comes in stating she needs Lada to return to her room.

  I walk the girl out. “You are a warrior, Lada. Don’t ever forget that.”

  The Claiming

  I tell my men to inform the police, once they locate where the other girls are being held captive.

  However, I keep the knowledge of Zuyev’s involvement to myself. I am certain that if he is arrested, he will escape prosecution due to the Bratva’s nefarious connections.

  I cannot allow that.

  I take solace knowing there is a special place in hell for those who sell women and children for financial gain. I have no problem helping to deliver him there—but I must be patient.

  I have an ally in the Bratva who may be willing to help, but I must proceed with extreme caution. One wrong move and I risk not only my life, but everyone’s around me.

  That is not a risk I can take.

  Instead, I turn my attention to helping Titov set up the shelter. I know, based on Tatianna’s experience, there are few resources in Moscow to assist victims, which makes our mission vitally important.

  When I hear my brother Andrev insists on meeting me to discuss my plans for the mansion, I am in no mood to be civil. In fact, I’m prepared to break all ties with him when he bursts into my office.

  “Why are you here?” I snarl.

  “I heard a rumor that you want to turn this place into a shelter. Is that right?”

  “It’s happening as we speak,” I answer unapologetically.

  I expect an argument, but Andrev catches me off guard when he says, “I want to be a part of it.”

  I frown, certain I’ve misheard him. “Why?”

  Andrev pulls a photo from his wallet. “My wife’s best friend lost her daughter when she was kidnapped walking home from school. They found her in St. Petersburg months later in a sex den—dead.”

  I look at the child’s smiling face. Seeing how young she is and knowing what she suffered hits me hard, and I say gruffly, “I am sorry to hear it.”

  “When my wife heard what you were planning to do here, she insisted I offer my services.”

  “You have no experience with such things. What service could you possibly provide?”

  “I realize I am not a man of many skills, Anton,” he says, sounding insulted. “Still, I am willing to help in whatever capacity I’m needed, even if it’s manual labor.”

  I burst out laughing. “You?”

  He furrows his brow. “I’d like to volunteer. Surely, there is value in that?”

  “Volunteer?”

  I am shocked by his offer.

  “Yes. It would be wrong to take money away from this endeavor. It is something Natalia and I feel strongly about.”

  I never knew this side of Andrev existed, and I c
redit his wife Natalia for it.

  “I will talk to Titov.”

  Andrev snorts. “Aren’t you the man in charge? Or is it your chum from grade school running things now?”

  I narrow my eyes. “Let me make this perfectly clear, Andrev. Titov is your first point of contact. If you show him any disrespect, you will be dismissed.”

  “Isn’t that like looking a gift horse in the mouth?” he huffs.

  “I did not ask for your help. Consider it a privilege, not a right.”

  Andrev takes a deep breath before replying. Instead of throwing back his typical jab, he says, “I will do as you say.”

  I frown, still not able to believe this sudden change in him. So, I tell him, “It will be menial tasks no one has time for.”

  “So be it. So long as I can contribute in some way.”

  “Forgive my skepticism, Andrev. But this seems very unlike you.”

  Andrev points to the picture of the girl. “My daughter was best friends with this girl. She used to come to our home and stay for hours giggling as the two shared childhood secrets with each other.” Andrev pauses, looking as if he’s about to cry. “There isn’t a day that goes by when I think it could have been my daughter.”

  I am moved by his admission.

  “Although there is much you and I don’t agree on, Anton,” he continues. “This is one area we stand united on. It is bigger than either of us.”

  “Agreed.” I hold out my hand to him and he shakes it firmly.

  Titov walks in just as he is leaving.

  Andrev nods to him. “Titov. I look forward to working with you.”

  Titov stares at me in shock as Andrev walks out.

  “My brother just offered to volunteer his time toward the project. I’m stunned, as well.”

  Titov clears his throat. “Pardon me for saying this, gospodin, but he is the last of your brothers I would expect to do such a thing.”

  I can’t hide my sorrow when I explain, “He has a compelling reason to do so.”

  Titov bows his head, understanding what that means. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  I sit down at my desk, stunned by the unexpected encounter. I never thought a truce was possible with Andrev and I. Mamulya may have been right when she said there’d come a day when my brothers and I would come together.