ZARYA ROGOV
I ran towards the main road and began to stride on the side pathway, desperately hoping for a taxi to arrive, even though it was pretty late at night. My breath was heavy, and despite the cold weather, I felt sweat trickling down my back.
I had already taken the path, and there was no going back.
If my father failed to find me, Ivan Starkov would soon know that I had run away, and, judging by his parents, I doubt they would want to marry their son to a runaway woman.
I continued to walk. Anxiety crawled up my skin like a curse. Not knowing where I would go? What would I do? I walked, ran until the time faded away, and the only thought was escape, but the road was never-ending.
I began to doubt my escape until a black car with black tinted windows finally showed up. My instincts told me I shouldn't be asking for a lift, and so I continued to stride along the pathway before halting my steps.
What's that?
I stared at the black trail of cars cutting through the air, flashing silver headlights as if on high alert. My heart began to beat in my mouth, and my grip tightened on the bag on my shoulders.
Have they already caught up to me? But my father was never this fast, and this was not his way of traveling.
I wanted to move, but I couldn't.
Something deep inside me said, 'They were here for me.'
Run!
The cars began to slow down, the tension was thick in the air, and it was pulsing through my veins. My heart almost lurched into my mouth when a black-colored G-wagon cut through the trail, tearing through the pathway like a beast, and it screeched to a halt inches from me. I squealed and fell backwards on my butt, the silver headlights blinding me.
What the hell!
I immediately crawled backwards from the car, trying to process what had just happened. I couldn't open my eyes due to the blinding lights boring into me.
Have I been caught? No! Not this soon.
The back of my eyes burned, my throat painfully clogging up.
Suddenly, a towering silhouette walked in front of the light, the rays scattering around his huge frame and his shadow looming over me like he was here to consume my soul.
I stared down at his shiny boots with my squinted eyes before my gaze slowly traveled up, seeking the face. All I knew was that this man wasn't my father but someone far more dangerous.
And then I saw him.
Dead hazel eyes stared down at me.
Those eyes...
My eyes slowly widened as I took in those features.
Dirty blond hair.
Chiseled jawline with dusty stubble.
Perfectly sharp nose, and a pair of hazel eyes dressed with lashes longer than my own.
The man in front of me was no one other than Sergei Morozov, the ruler of hell, the ruler of Bratva, the Pakhan.
My father's sworn enemy.
I stared up at him in shock.
Realization dawned over me like a newly inflicted trauma.
Oh no!
I looked around, and his men were surrounding us. Each one of them was armed. I hesitantly looked up at him again, and the intensity of his gaze had my gaze flickering away.
I couldn't move.
How...how did he know where I was?
He slowly kneeled on his left knee, and still, I had to look up at him. My heartbeat was hammering in my ears, senses heightening in fear. My hands unconsciously clenched onto the soil beneath my palm as I cowardly gawked at the man in front of me.
I was already not used to this species, and this man was the worst of all I could ever imagine.
Oh god, he would kill me.
I'm dead.
I wanted freedom, not death.
Why was he staring at me like that?
"Be grateful you don't look like your father." That's the first thing he said to me.
I'm glad I don't look like my father, but I guess that man was beefing with everyone to the point of such hatred.
I continued to gawk at him, not a word slipping through my slightly parted lips.
"What are you doing here?" He asked seriously, his voice holding so much command, I was forced to speak.
"I-I was on a w-walk." I stuttered.
He raised a brow, his eyes slowly traveling towards the bag on my shoulders and then down to my clothes. I knew he wasn't buying my lie. It felt like he already knew what I was up to.
"More like trying to escape from your marriage," he said, and my already wide eyes widened even more. How did he know that? Rogov's and Starkov's deal was a secret that no one was supposed to know about except the two families.
Was there a spy?
"W-What do you want f-from me?" I asked hesitantly, and he slightly leaned in closer, making me move back instinctively.
"You will soon know." He raised his hand to grab my arm, but I threw the soil I was clutching onto right in his eyes, making him growl. His animalistic growl alone had me flinching. I immediately stood and turned around to run, but I was immediately surrounded by his men, all of them towering over me.
Did I really think I had a chance?
One of them roughly grabbed my arm, yanking me towards him. I yelped in pain and raised my hand to hit him, but the other one grabbed my wrist.
Terror sparked through my body.
I realized how helpless I was. I realized that these men could do anything to me if they wanted.
Suddenly, someone grabbed my backpack from behind and pulled me away from their hold. He grabbed me and pulled me as if I were a child.
I looked up and immediately freaked out when I saw that Sergei was the one who pulled me away from them. How did he recover so soon? His eyes were red, though.
"You guys can't treat her like that," Sergei said mockingly, and I almost gave him a double-take. Huh? Despite the mocking tone, the darkness that flashed through his gaze was a clear warning to his men. All of them lowered their heads.
"She would soon have my surname, I do not want any of you even looking at her with anything but respect." My eyes widened at his words as I tried to pull away from his hold, only to be yanked back to his side by his hold on my backpack.
"What d-do you mean?" I asked anxiously. All the color drained out of my face.
He didn't answer, he didn't even look at me.
"Start the cars, we're going to the church."