Arseny let out a sharp laugh. “You’re joking, right? A woman hit you... and she’s still breathing?”
His gaze shifted downward, spotting the gun Yegor had discarded. His smirk widened. “And why the hell did you throw your gun away?”
“She wanted a fistfight,” Yegor muttered.
Arseny tilted his head, looking at me. “And yet, she’s sitting there. Doesn’t look much like someone ready to fight.”
Yegor grunted and walked over to retrieve his gun. Then, without warning, he bent down close to me. His breath was rancid, his voice a sickening whisper.
“If I tell Grandma what you did, the consequences will be severe.” He let the words sink in before continuing, “Or... I could just beat you senseless right now. That’d be fair, considering you hit me first.” His lips curled. “Unless you’d rather get on your knees and make it up to me another way.”
Disgust churned in my stomach. Without thinking, I spat in his face. Then I leapt to my feet, backing away fast.
Yegor’s eyes burned with fury as he lifted his gun. My heart slammed against my ribs, but before he could pull the trigger, Arseny grabbed his wrist.
Arseny leaned in, his voice low. “Not here. Not now. You’re being sloppy.”
Yegor’s nostrils flared, but after a moment, he exhaled sharply and shoved his gun into his holster. He turned to me and wiped my spit from his face with slow, deliberate fingers. “This isn’t over.”
Then, without another word, they turned and walked away.
I stayed frozen, watching them disappear into the distance. I expected a gunshot, a sudden end, but nothing came.
Only when they were truly gone did I collapse back into my seat, my limbs shaking.
Whatever they were planning, it wouldn’t be good.
I stayed hidden in the alcove for another two hours, stewing in my thoughts.
Eventually, hunger gnawed at me. I wandered toward the kitchen, stomach twisting with each step. But the moment I crossed the threshold, a woman in a starched apron shot me a sharp glare.
“Only family eats from this kitchen,” she said coldly, stepping in front of the doorway like a guard.
Unlike Gleb’s house where I could walk into the kitchen freely or ask Zoya to prepare something, I had no such privilege here.
I didn’t have the strength to argue so I turned and walked away, pulling out my phone as I went. I searched for nearby restaurants.
Nothing.
The closest one was 60 kilometers away. A one-hour drive...just to eat.
Ridiculous.
“I’ll be traveling tonight.”
I snapped my head up, startled. Gleb stood there, watching me.
I frowned. “Why are you telling me that?”
“Do you want to come with me?” he asked. “You won’t be safe here.”
Leaving with him would be safer. Yegor and Arseny were already circling me like sharks, waiting for the right moment to strike.
But leaving with Gleb meant choosing him. Trusting him, even for a moment.
My pride flared. “No.”
Without another word, Gleb set a food flask down beside me. “Italian. I figured you’d like it.”
