Submitting to the Billionaire(18)

He does not let go. He just looks angry and irritated. "It's no use resisting. Your parents are gone and you must come with us."

"Why? Why must we go with you?" I ask defiantly. I remember Mama told me  when I was only Pavel's age that if anything ever happened to my  parents, then I must take my brother (he was only a baby then) and go to  my grandmother's house. She made me learn the address by heart, then  she showed me how to lift the loose floorboard in her bedroom and access  the blue box hidden underneath. Inside was money and our papers. "If  anybody at all comes here and tries to take you, or your brother away,  you must immediately call Uncle Oksana. He will know what to do," she  said. I nodded and she made me memorize his number.

"You must come with us now," the man barks, holding me sideways so that my kicks and flailing were useless.

"I want to call my uncle," I say as ferociously as I can.

"There is no time for that now. You can call him later," the woman says.  Her face cracks into a smile. It just makes her look like a crocodile.

"I want to call him now," I insist stubbornly. "Mama wanted me to."

The woman looks at the man and raises her eyebrows.

"Duscha, help us," I say, but she just sobs helplessly. When I see her  crying so pitifully, I suddenly become very frightened. Our parents are  not here, and these horrible people are going to take us away, and  Duscha, always smiling, happy, Duscha, is crying like her heart is  breaking. "Please, Duscha. Please, help us. Do something."

Duscha falls to her knees, clasps her hands in a prayer position, and  looks up at them. "Please don't take the boys, they need to go to  school. Let the boy call his uncle. I can take care of them here until  he gets here," she begs, her voice shaking with fear.

"These two children have been designated as children of the enemies of  the people, and by resisting their removal you are acting against the  state's wishes. Instead of worrying about them you should start making  preparations to leave immediately as this house and everything in it now  belongs to the government." The woman's voice is sharp and Duscha  flinches as if she has been struck.

"I don't want to go," I yell.

"Look how they are dressed," Duscha cries desperately. "Please, have  some pity. It's freezing cold outside. At least let me get some warm  clothes for them," Duscha pleads.

"There is no time. They must come with us now," the man repeats stonily.

Duscha takes off her warm woolen shawl and, with tears running down her  face, wraps it around Pavel's shoulder. Pavel uses that opportunity to  fling his hands and legs around her body and cling tightly to her.

The man looks at the woman. "Hurry up and get him. We're wasting time here."

The woman takes two steps forward and roughly pries Pavel away from  Duscha. She rips the shawl off his body, throws it to the ground, and  she drags my screaming brother towards the front door.         

     



 

I try to fight the man holding me with all my might, but he is big and  too strong. Without warning, he lifts his hand and punches me on the  side of the head. The blow is so hard, my head swims. I actually see  stars. For a second I even go deaf. My body becomes limp, and he drags  me down the steps.

There is a long, black car parked outside.

I know instinctively that we must never get into the car. With every  ounce of energy I have, I start struggling and screaming as loudly as I  can for the neighbors. But the street remains deserted. Not one curtain  twitches. Not one person opens their door to investigate what is  happening in the Smirnov household.

Why the children are screaming?

Why there is a big black car parked outside?

Why two strangers are dragging the children away?

"Help, help. We are being kidnapped," I yell.

Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain on my upper arm. When I jerk my head towards the pain I see a needle sticking out of my arm.

The world goes black very quickly.





Chapter Twenty-Three





Star





Before the hour is up I hear the sound of a motorbike roaring to the  front. Minutes later there is a quiet knock, and when I open it Celine  is standing outside.

She looks at me strangely. I know my eyes are swollen and red.

"Your new phone has arrived. A woman who can teach you how to use it is also here."

I follow her downstairs where a young Italian girl smiles at me and  proceeds to show me how to use the phone. It is very different from mine  and I have never heard of the brand before, but she is a good teacher,  the interface is easy, and soon I am using it confidently.

"That's it. If you have any problems don't hesitate to call me," she says standing up.

"I'm sorry you had to come out at this time of the night."

She grins broadly. "I wish more people would call me out at this time of  the night. I'm getting paid almost a week's wages for this, so believe  me when I tell you, it is no hardship at all."

At my blank expression, she explains that she works for a high-end phone  shop in Bond street. Her boss called her while she was getting ready  for bed and sent a courier to pick her up and take her to the shop where  he gave her the phone. Her task was to deliver it and teach me how to  use it.

The big guy that Nikolai had called Semyon is waiting for her in the  hallway. After she leaves I go upstairs. In my room, I go into my  bathroom, lock the door, and text Nigel.



Me: I'm going to bed now, Nigel. Please do NOT text or call me unless I  text you whenever I can. I don't want Nikolai to hurt you. I love you.  No matter what. I'll text you tomorrow.

Nigel: Are you all right?

Me: Yes, I'm fine.

Nigel: I heard a loud bang. Did he hit you?

Me: No.

Nigel: So what was the noise?

Me: He broke my phone.

Nigel: WTF!!!!

Me: It's all right. It's all sorted now.

Nigel: Whose phone are you using?

Me: He got me another one.

Nigel: He must be nuts.

Me: Just don't call or text me. I'll contact you when the coast is clear.

Nigel: Now I'm really worried about you. What if he hurts you?

Me: He won't.

Nigel: How do you know that?

Me: The only person who can hurt me is you.

Nigel: We'll get through this. I promise.

Me: I'm tired. I'm going to bed. I'll call you tomorrow.

Nigel: I'll be waiting for your text tomorrow. I love you so much it hurts.

I close my eyes and then I say what I always say: Me too.

His reply appears on the screen and it just makes me so sad I want to cry: Goodnight my darling. I'll dream of you.



I crawl into bed. The sheets are silky soft against my skin. It takes me  a long time to fall asleep and when I do, I don't dream of Nigel. I  toss and turn with nightmares of a man with silver eyes full of pain.





Chapter Twenty-Four





Nikolai





When I wake up it is nearly night, my brother is huddled against me, and  the car is travelling on a lonely road. I try to stretch, but can't  move my hands. I look down and see that they are tied with ropes.

The man and woman are sitting in the front.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

The woman turns her head around. "If you don't shut up, I'll have to tape both your mouths," she warns.

No one speaks again. My brother holds me close to him as we drive  through swathes of countryside until we come upon a high wall. It is  studded with sharp pieces of broken glass and the top of it is strung  with barbed wire. The car stops at a set of big, black gates. The man  gets out and rings a bell. After a while, an elderly man comes to unlock  the big padlocks on the gates.

We drive through and stop in front of a huge, gray building. I'll never  forget the sight of that building. It is so big and imposing. All the  windows have bars. It looks like a prison. We are pulled out of the car  and forced up the stone steps.         

     



 

A skeletal man with a thin, long face opens the thick black door. He  does not look at Pavel or me. Merely nods gravely and opens the door  wider. The stench that greets us is hard to define. I have never smelt  it before. It seems to be coming from the dank walls and the stone  floor. I can even smell it on the thin man. It smells like stale urine,  and boiling cabbages, but something else too. Something that makes me  afraid.

It is colder inside the house than it was outside. There is a huge bust  of Lenin to the left of us. Ahead is a long, dark corridor. There are  posters on the walls showing children praising Stalin with the caption:  Thank You, Dear Comrade Stalin, for a Happy Childhood.

We follow him down the corridor.

An elderly woman is furiously mopping the floor. Her mop is gray and the  water in the bucket is also gray with a few soap suds floating on top.  She does not look at us.

We pass empty classrooms on either side of us. There are no sounds of  children from within the house. Further down the corridor a boy, much  older than me, passes us. He has dark eyes and he stares at me with a  sneer.

We reach a door and the tall man knocks politely. Someone calls ‘enter'  and the man pushes open the door and steps back. A bald, fat man stands  from behind a big desk with many papers on it.