Tough love

[Sweet_Denna]

This thread is now closed for Jokas_Wild and myself.

Elena sat with her back against the cold stone wall and turned a small, wrinkly apple in her hands, lost in thought. It had been two days and two nights since she had elapsed from Zaky’s place, and she had not eaten since then. Strangely, she still did not feel hungry at all.

In fact, she did not feel anything. And maybe that had been the main reason that she had left. It had been that, and Zaky’s ability to find the most sadistic, perverse and deprived customers for her, his little whore. Her filthy, worthless motherfucker of a pimp had finally started to put not only her health, but also her life in danger. The slender girl looked at the dark blue marks on both of her wrists and grimaced.
She could not have been older than eighteen, and neither her fatigue, nor the lack of food could hide the delicacy of her face. Despite the cheap, blonde dye job that was supposed to hide her raven hair, despite the chipped, vamp nail polish and her angry, almost black eyes, there was something extremely fragile about the girl.

But Elena was a survivor. She had come a long way from Grozny, she had seen, and lived through far worse than what that asshole had put her through on her last job. It would take more than one perverse cop to take her down. Much more. Elena had taught that sick motherfucker a valuable lesson about how to treat a girl. She had made sure that he would not lay his filthy hands on anybody ever again. Zaky had not been happy.

Now she was on the run from the police, from her pimp, and somehow, still, from the past that did not stop haunting her. Maybe that was the reason that she had come to the place that seemed fitting as a hideout for scum like herself. Kursky Station, Moscow's flea-ridden underbelly.

Curling up on an improvised pile of flattened cardboard boxes, Elena tried to find some sleep, holding the apple in her hand. She did not dare to take off her ridiculous pink high-heels, for fear that somebody would take them and leave her completely without shoes. When she started to drift into the merciful nothingness of a deep sleep, she felt somebody lay down next to her. Somebody small. “Ilya”, she mumbled, and put her arm around the filthy boy who had become her friend. Ilya was a very talented little pickpocket from the south of Russia. She could feel his hair against her cheek and smiled. At night, they all gathered here. The street children, the glue sniffers, the junkies, the hookers. They felt safe in Kursky Station. Safe and invisible.

The next night, her pimp had finally found her.

Ilya had seen him first, the bony little man with the dangerous smile, and sensing trouble, had tried to warn her. Elena had tried to get away, but Zaky had been faster. He managed to grab a tail of her hoody, and before she could get rid of it, he had her by the shoulders, whirling her around to face him. "You filthy little bitch!" Elena screamed and her voice echoed against the glass ceiling of the train station. She already knew that nobody here would help her.

“Where did you think you were going?” her pimp hissed at her. His breath reeked of booze and cigarettes, and Elena turned her face lightly to the side. The thought of breathing the air that this motherfucker exhaled made her stomach turn. With a cold grin, Zaky roughly cupped her chin and forced her to look him in the eyes. “Do you know what a fucking mess you created? Do you know how much I had to pay these fuckers to keep their mouths shut?” His fingers were roughly digging into her cheeks and she winced. “You will work it off, cunt. Down to every last ruble.” With a filthy grin, he put his free hand between her legs, and pressed the palm of his hand possessively on her pussy. It hurt, the fabric of her ridiculously short hotpants was thin, and his touch was extremely rough.

Zaky was bony, short and looked rather frail, but his sadistic taste for inflicting pain made up for his bodily features. When he backhanded her across the face, Elena could feel her lip split and she tasted blood. But she knew that this was just the beginning. This time, Zaky was furious. The next blow sent her crashing into a light pole, before she fell limply to the floor. “I could just hand you over to the cops, you know…but then, I wouldn’t get to watch, now, would I?” On the last word, he kicked her hard into the side, and Elena thought that she felt a rib crack. Gritting her teeth, she tried to get up, only to be knocked over by another kick in the ribs. She yelped in pain. “I want to see when they fuck you, I mean, really fuck you this time, you little whore. I motherfucking earned it!” His last words trailed off into a pained grunt, and Elena lifted her head.

She saw that Ilya had kicked him hard against the back of his knees. With a grunt, the pimp whirled around, but the boy was much too fast for him. It gave Elena a few minutes, a few precious minutes, to break away from his grip, and run. Her high heels were of no help here, but she had no time to take them off. Now, she needed to run. Elena heard Zaky curse and groan, as Ilya must have dealt him another blow.

Her head was ringing. A painful sting in her chest area seemed to prove her fear of a cracked rib, maybe two. But she could not linger. Limping, she made for the entrance of the train station. She needed to reach it. Her ankle sent shocks of pain through her whole body, and she groaned loudly at every step she made. But Zaky was coming closer; she could hear the echo of his footsteps. If he would catch her this time, he would cut her throat.

With an agonizing moan, Elena reached out for the large doors and threw herself against them. Her frail body was spat out into the street, and disoriented as she was, she stumbled onto the pavement, realizing too late that she had forgotten to watch out for cars.

She whirled around, only to stare into the blinding glare of a pair of headlights.

 

[Jokas_Wild]

Alexander Cherylenko, at only 32 years of age, was considered a rockstar within the world of the Vory y Zakone. In just 14 years time Alex had gone from his start as a lowly street level runner in Moscow to the man in charge of the Durbanski Syndicate operations for all of Moscow. His ascent to the position though was far from an easy one, slick with blood and littered with the bodies of both friends and enemies. Most of those deaths didn't bother Alex too badly except one, when the Federov family had killed his boss and mentor, Sergei Nikoalof.

Alexander met Sergei about 2 years into working for the Durbanski Syndicate while on a routine runner job. Alex had been tasked with dropping off a package to a warehouse Sergei owned and it was indeed a fateful day. Sergei and a few of his thugs were at the warehouse interrogating one of their own they suspected of being a snitch. Alex simply happened to arrive around the same time that Sergei decided he was done with the man and an opportunity presented itself.

"You, package boy, how would you like to earn yourself a promotion and a pay raise? I'm about to be down a man for my crew and you seem like you have unlimited potential with the right training. I'm always looking to recruit those with potential, interested?"

Sergei's smile was evil, a man whose mind was so deeply twisted that concepts such as remorse and guilt had long been wiped out. But Sergei had an eye for talent and he would really prefer to hire this young runner instead of shooting both the snitch and the kid due to disappointment.

Alexander instantly knew this was not the type of situation that you could walk away from, the legacy of Sergei Nikalof was one soaked in blood and terror but also spoke with reverance for his brutal efficiency and calculated planning. Swallowing hard, Alex nodded slightly and tried to steady his voice and build himself up, to look like a real man in front of his new boss.

"I would be honored Mr. Nikalof, what do I have to do?". His eyes jumped between Sergei, his thugs and the man bound to the chair, bleeding profusely and groaning softly.

"Kill this peice of shit young..." Sergei's brow furrowed slightly. "Wait, what the fuck is your name anyways?"

"Alexander Cherylenko sir, I am originally from Kursk though I've lived in Moscow for a little over 2 years now." Alex licked his lips nervously, heartbeat roaring in his ears at the anticipation of knowing he had to kill this nameless and bleeding man before him.

"Alex, kill this snitch peice of shit for me and your hired. Don't worry about the cleanup, Nikko and Andre will handle it." Sergei motioned for Nikko to hand him a gun which he in turn handed to Alex. "Shoot him in the head and then come with me to my car, we have alot to discuss young man."

Alex took the gun shakily and leveled it at the bound man's head, closing his own eyes and trying to muster his courage while tuning out all the thoughts that screamed to run and ignore this insane request. But Alex also wanted to survive and that thought is what pulled the trigger, the loud crack of the shot echoing throughout the warehouse.

"Well done Alex, now get in my car and let's get the fuck out of here..."

Alex was reliving that whole experience as he drove home from his club, Святилище (Sanctuary), cutting across town in a route that brought him near Kursky Station and that is where once again fate stepped in to change everything. His headlights came upon the heap of a young girls body in the middle of the street and he slammed on the brakes less he damage his Mercedes of the body of a street urchin.

"The fuck is wrong with you! Get the fuck out of the street!" His yelling stopped though once he was out of the car and finally got a good look at the heap in the street. A young girl, maybe 18 or 19, dressed in the uniform of a cheap street walker with her hot pants and pink heels, was his roadblock. She looked exhausted, malnourished and bruised with a bad dye job but cleaned up, she looked like she had potential. Within moments of completeing his once over, a small but very angry looking man came bursting through the doors of Kursky station.

"She's mine, get the fuck away from her." The little man hissed angerly at Alex, quickly closing the distance between himself and the girl whom Alex was now hunched over. "I own her, I bailed her out of jail, that little slut owes me alot of rubles which means alot of fucking."

That sentence confirmed what Alex already thought about the girl, she was indeed a simple whore but that did not change the potential he saw in her. Alex smiled at the little man, standing up to establish his height and size dominance at 6'2" and 215 pounds.

"What's she worth to you then? I'll buy her here and now, she will trouble you no longer and we both go on our merry ways. Interested?" Alex made a motion to reach for his wallet, fully intent on making good on his offer.

"She's not for sale so fuck off!" The smaller man had stopped walking forward though, now only a mere 2 feet seperated the trio. "She is property of the Federov family and they put me in charge of her accordingly. I am one of their favorite pimps so fuck off rich man!" The alcohol in his system made the little man boastful and over-confident and bragging about being a member of the Federov Family, no matter how low in the organization he might be.

"Well, I mean if your apart of the Federov Family, I certainly don't want any trouble. She's all yours then, I'll be on my way." With feigned nervousness, Alex turned on his heel and took a few steps towards his car and he could hear the footsteps of the man approach the girl.

"One more thing little man..." Alex whipped around, grabbing the gun from under his gray suit coat and leveling it at his head. "I fucking hate you Federov peices of shit!" With that, two shots cracked through the cold night air and for the first time in the whole exchange, the girl made a noise, a loud scream to be exact. The small man hit the ground with a thud, a round in his chest and head respectively and a bit of the splatter landed on the girl.

"You, get in my car now! Don't drip anything on my upholstery and don't talk unless I speak to you. NOW MOVE YOUR ASS!". Alex shoved the gun back into his shoulder holster and moved towards the car, awaiting the hear the clack of her heels as she moved assuming she had half a brain in that pretty little head.

 

[Sweet_Denna]

Elena had stumbled out onto the street and when she had seen the car race towards her, all she had been able to do was to freeze in the glare of the headlights, before falling to the ground. The world was spinning around her, sounds and the dim colours of the nightly street all blurring into one whirl of sensations. There was the screeching of breaks and an angry voice, a car door slammed shut and the sound of hasty footsteps towards her.

When she lifted her head, unable to utter a single syllable, she saw how Kursky Station belched out Zaky. He was angrier than ever and apparently slightly limping. For a split second, she wondered if her little friend and helper was okay, but the ensuing dialogue between her pimp and the stranger from the car tore her out of her hazy thoughts. She realized that they were fighting and fighting over...herself. The hilariousness of that fact almost made her giggle, albeit without humour. There she was, a little filthy whore with a strained ankle, a few cracked hips, a busted lip and no hope, and these two men were fighting over who had the right to fuck her up some more. How the hell had her life come to this?

But then, something completely unexpected happened. The name of the Federov family fell which seemed to inspire such rage in the driver of the Mercedes that he pulled a gun and shot Zaky. Just like that. Elena screamed. She felt drops of blood splatter on her skin and gagged. Fuck! The killer lowered his gun and put it away with the same nonchalance with which he had just shot her pimp. Fuck. Elena froze. What had just happened? And Federov? Elena knew that Zaky had done business with that family before, maybe once or twice, and nothing major. It was sweet irony that had prevailed here then, that he had been shot for once again not having been able to keep his big trap shut.

Then, for the first time since they had met, the killer addressed her. "You, get in my car now! Don't drip anything on my upholstery and don't talk unless I speak to you. NOW MOVE YOUR ASS!" Elena felt a sting of rage. For fuck’s sake, who the hell did this asshole think he was to order her around like he was her pimp? With trembling legs and an audible moan of pain, she got on her feet again. And did he think that she was insane enough to get into the car of a killer, no questions asked? She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth, unknowingly smearing drops of her own blood across her pretty lips like some sort of freak lipstick.

Her eyes fell on Zaky, who lay unnaturally bent on the street, puddles of dark blood forming underneath his dead body, so that she had to take a few small steps back. Elena did not care that he had been shot in front of her, not much anyway. That was the way her world operated - shoot or get shot - and she was glad that for once destiny had sacked the right guy. Zaky, that sadistic and brainless son of a bitch was finally dead. Hallelujah. Then her eyes met that of his killer.

What were her options at this point? Elena did not doubt for one second that the man who had just unflinchingly shot Zaky would kill her next if she proved a liability. The tone in his voice told her that he was used to being obeyed without question. And where else could she go? Definitely not to a hospital, because they would probably inform the police, and the police...Elena grimaced in pain at the thought of what would happen if the police would get their hands on her again. With Zaky dead, the only reason for them not to kill her was gone. This man, whoever he was, would definitely keep her away from the cops.

On the other hand, the thought of exchanging one asshole that thought owned her against the next was not very appealing. Elena threw him a cautious, but thoroughly examining glance. He had put his gun away for now and moved towards his car. She could clearly distinguish his features in the dirty light of the street lamps. He was young, younger than Zaky, and – this Elena could see despite the shadows that the light tossed across his face – he was motherfucking hot. But his beauty was that of a deadly predator who liked to play with his prey.

Afraid? Yes, she was. She was afraid as hell. But she had enough experience to know that predators could not only smell fear, but that they throve on it. Elena tucked a strand of hair behind her ear while she concentrated on her voice sounding as casual and steady as she could possibly manage. “I don’t know what your plans for this lovely evening are, but all I can provide at this point is a hand job.” This was true. Her hand was pretty much the only part of her body that did not throb in dull pain. Elena swallowed hard, her eyes fixed both on the gun and his hand. “And since you saved my life, it’ll be on the house.”

Visibly shaking, she finally turned to follow at least part of his barked order. Her heart was thumping in her chest, and Elena clenched her fists, fully expecting him to shoot her from behind. Her ridiculous heels clattered loudly over the pavement as she walked to his car, trying not to stumble despite the raging pain in her ankle. Feeling the gaze of the predator following her every move, she clumsily opened the passenger door of his car, and let herself fall onto the smooth seat of his Mercedes. The leather felt cool and soft against the naked skin of her thighs and her fingers. It was then that her eyes fell on the drops of splatter on her leg. Pieces of Zaky. With a disgusted groan, she wiped it off against the sleeve of her already dirty hoody. Damn, there was no was not to soil the spotless car.

And now what? He had not shot her, at least not yet. What did a man like him want with a filthy little street rat like herself? Even if it was to satisfy more...exotic needs, he could do much, much better than her. But what else could it be? When he had briefly offered Zaky to buy her from him, what on earth had driven him to do that? Elena had long stopped believing in charity, selflessness or the greater good. Did he save her only to make her suffer even greater pain? She had heard things. Things that made her dig her fingers into the seat in fear.

From under lowered lashes, she lifted her gaze above the dashboard, and out onto the street. No, Elena did not believe in angels. But there was a small part of her brain, the tiniest spot that hoped that for once, she was the lucky one.

 

[Jokas_Wild]

Alex quietly slid back into the drivers seat after watching Elena climb into the passenger side and together they sat in a moment of silence. Her fear was palpable to Alex which provided a sort of sick rush to him, something about such absolute power had always driven him in both business and pleasure. He had noticed the hobble as she walked to the car and her breathing sounded a bit ragged, not just from nerves but Alex suspected a sternal injury.

"My dear, the last thing I want out of you is a fucking handjob. I want you to listen and listen well because I do not like to repeat myself, repeating myself makes me want to shoot someone." He shoot her a pointed look with that comment and after a slight nod of her head, Alex continued. "My name is Alexander Cherylenko and I now own you. If your not happy with this new situation, I can shoot you now and we can be done with this conversation. 1 body or 2, I simply don't give a shit how much meat the coroner will have to autopsy tomorrow." Letting that thought hang in the air, Alex started the car and slipped it into drive, driving around Zaky's crumpeled corpse and taking the new duo towards his loft.

Alexander was intentionally trying to terrorize the girl into cooperating, fear had an amazing ability to break down ones barriers and make them complient. The look in her eyes spoke of an utter terror tinged with a certain fire, Alex knew the girl was thinking of how to save herself and come out on top of this whole exchange. That was the potential he saw in her, a raw talent that simply needed to be molded and made into something greater.

"Assuming my name does not ring a bell, I will tell your that I work for the Durbanski Syndicate and I run their Moscow operations. Your my newest investment and project...."

In that moment, Alex flashed back to how his mentor Sergei had talked to him in much the same way. This caused him to smile and every so slightly soften his demeanor, Sergei had taught him that you need some finesse to your powerplays, that a healthy balence was infinitly more effective then raw fear.

"What is your name anyway? You do have a name don't you?"

"Elena"

Alex smiled, her single word answer indicative that she didn't want to let him get anything out of her, she was in survival mode. She was good, even better then Alex had first assumed and he thanked his instincts on this one.

"Elena, I'm going to take you home with me to my loft. I'm going to have one of our doctors check you up and get you patched up as much as possible before your to take a shower. I have some workout clothes at my loft so you can get rid of those filthy rags and we can truly begin. Tomorrow will see you getting a haircut and that horrible blonde fixed along with a full on shopping trip to get you a complete new wardrobe. Your going to start a whole new life Elena, there is just one important thing you need to keep in mind about all this."

With that, he briefly took his gaze off the road and cupped her chin with his right hand, forcing her to look into his eyes. This time when he smiled there was no warmth, just a cold calculating look of a hunter claiming his prey.

"I now own you Elena and don't you dare forget that fact. It's either that or a bullet in your pretty little skull and I would really hate to have to kill the girl who I intend to turn into a million ruble fuck. Who knows, maybe if your lucky you can earn your way off your back and become a real gangster. You might be useful as a sort of slut assassin."

His laugh was cruel, his joke only amusing himself and he frankly didn't give a damn if she didn't like it. Life was cruel and fucked up, Alex just happened to be a walking personification of what it looked like when it became a Russian crime boss. Alex and Elena were about to start down a dark path together, Alex steering the way and leading them both further into the depths of hell.

 

[Sweet_Denna]

The faint hope that had fogged up her brain for a split second was rapidly dispersed. No, he was no beautiful angel of revenge sent to turn her upside down world into something livable again. He was just as fucked up as all the rest of them. A pity, really.

"My dear, the last thing I want out of you is a fucking handjob. I want you to listen and listen well because I do not like to repeat myself, repeating myself makes me want to shoot someone. My name is Alexander Cherylenko and I now own you. If you’re not happy with this new situation, I can shoot you now and we can be done with this conversation. 1 body or 2, I simply don't give a shit how much meat the coroner will have to autopsy tomorrow." Elena understood that, yes. Well, at least she understood his Russian, and the string of words that formed sentences. But nothing of this made any sense to her. At this point, and in her state, she was a burden at best, and a fucking nuisance at worst. Something smart men would try to rid themselves of. This man, however, seemed to have other plans.

"Elena, I'm going to take you home with me to my loft. I'm going to have one of our doctors check you up and get you patched up as much as possible before you’re to take a shower. I have some workout clothes at my loft so you can get rid of those filthy rags and we can truly begin. Tomorrow will see you getting a haircut and that horrible blonde fixed along with a full on shopping trip to get you a complete new wardrobe. You’re going to start a whole new life Elena; there is just one important thing you need to keep in mind about all this." The young woman carefully studied his profile while he was talking. She heard the words, but had trouble concentrating. Workout clothes? Was he for real? He made it sound like he had planned to spend his evening almost running over a cheap hooker, shooting her idiot pimp, and taking her home with him to make her his newest shining member of the gang. Then again, Alexander Cherylenko probably did spend a great many evenings doing exactly that. Fucking lunatic. Somehow, Elena did not care much about what he might understand under “truly begin”.

"I now own you Elena and don't you dare forget that fact. It's either that or a bullet in your pretty little skull and I would really hate to have to kill the girl who I intend to turn into a million ruble fuck. Who knows, maybe if you’re lucky you can earn your way off your back and become a real gangster. You might be useful as a sort of slut assassin."

Here, she laughed out loud. Where the fuck did he get off? Not only did he have a fucking jersey waiting for her at his loft, he also already thought about her future career path. Not even Juri, one of her regulars who had a soft spot for the Chechen girl and her ability to blow him, had ever seen that much potential in her. Not even when she had her lips wrapped around his cum-spurting cock and two fingers buried in his ass. Alexander Cherylenko must be fucking high. Secretly, Elena watched his pupils, and his hands on the steering wheel. Had she not just detected a nervous twitch? This was some sort of sick joke. The little whore fully expected him to burst into hysterical laughter at any moment now. Slut assassin! He was surely taking the piss.

“So you’re planning to make me your own Pretty Woman then, yes?” Elena looked out the car window and watched houses and trees slip by as if somebody pulled them on a string in the opposite direction. “A Pretty Woman waving a fucking gun?” This man was obviously raging mad, or not very capable, or both. The fact that he ran the operations of one of the most powerful crime syndicates in Russia did not hint at either, however. She did not say anything, but of course she knew who Durbanski was. There was hardly a whore in Russia who had never heard that name. Whenever Zaky’s abuse had gotten particularly bad, Elena had consoled herself with tales of the Syndicate, and their brutal prostitution ring. Besides horror stories about how their girls were handled and traded, Durbanski girls fucked men – and women – that average Russians only knew from the newspapers; they were known to entertain politicians, businessmen and fellow crime bosses.

So it made even less sense that he would make her “his new project” on a whim like that. What the hell did he see in her? Clothes, a shower, a workout, maybe a haircut – did he truly think that any of this would make a difference?

Maybe he got off blabbering on like that. Elena had seen enough to know that everything, no matter how random and absurd, was probably someone’s fetish. Maybe that kind of talk was what got him hard. He would probably fuck her while still fantasizing about buying her a black leotard the next day, his future ninja whore. Elena felt another giggle burst from her throat, but she was smart enough to swallow the urge. While he was a delusional weirdo, she had just witnessed his precise capability to kill. Of course, she also knew that she could not let him take over her life like that, not after what she had recently risked to gain at least some control over what other people allowed themselves to do to her.

Still staring out the window, she whispered: “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, Mr. Cherylenko. But nothing you say makes much sense. You don’t know me. You know nothing about me.” She paused, unsure if she should taunt him like this. Durbanski Moscow seemed to have a very short fuse. “I came to Moscow from Grozny, and I never aspired to become a fucking whore. But that’s the way things evolved.” For a short moment, her voice trailed off, and she thought about…things. “Last week, I killed a cop. Cut his throat after he…he had raped me with…” Elena frowned. The words just did not make it out of her mouth and she could feel angry tears well up in her eyes. You fucking pussy. “He had deserved it.” That was probably all Cherylenko needed to know. “If you want to do both of us a favour, buy me a hamburger, let me give you a little something in return, and then let us part ways. We are very much out of each other’s leagues.” Maybe he needed a little encouragement? Shyly, with shaking fingers, one hand snaked from her lap over to his thigh, before she placed it on his crotch. All she needed was to distract him from his delusional ideas, and get out of his car unscathed. If she gritted her teeth, she would probably even manage a decent blowjob.

Her shining black eyes, almost too large for her delicate face, rested on his features while she started to apply light pressure to her fingers in his crotch. “While your interest flatters me, I am not the girl you have been looking for.” Elena prayed that her words – and actions – would have the desired effect.

 

[Jokas_Wild]

Alex glanced down at her dainty hand now trying to distract his attention from his train of thought to his more primitive needs, a noble attempt by her but futile at this point in time. Alex lifted her hand off his crotch and simply dropped it back in her lap, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "You think I'm mad Elena, maybe coked out of my mind? That this is all a fantasy I tell myself to kidnap and rape girls with maybe? I strongly assure you my dear, that is far from the case."

"You said that we are out of one another's league and at this moment, your quite correct in that assessment. While your very attractive and have a fierce intelligence burning inside, you seem to underestimate the gravity of my words or the potential magnitude of my offer placed in front of you. I may of phrased it badly with my choice of slut assassin, I am quite serious in that aspect. You obviously know first hand how men treat women like yourself, a recepticle for their sperm and then thrown out like trash. I mean look at your cop friend there, you had a bad experience and dealt with it very well apparently. I speak for my whole gender when I say we become rather stupid when we think with our dicks and not our brains. They would never see you coming, especially if it was in the act of them cumming!"

Alexander gave her a wink as though he were proud of her and that sick joke, a cop killing street walker who was now owned by a mafia boss who was just a touch of a sociopath! Who could think of something so ludicrious, with such plot twists as a dead pimp and the looming question of how much longer Alex was going to be nice to the girl who trusted no one but herself. But this was all too real, two damaged people coming together but in a less then feel good movie sort of way.

"My mentor, Sergei, taught me to always be looking for potential, for the next big thing. He would always say to look for the person that would scare me with the proper guidance. Keep them close and train them well, they will become your greatest asset and ally. Train them well and then drive them away, prepare for them to have your fucking head on a platter." Alex gave her a pointed look with that sentence hanging in the air. "Needless to say, I've had to kill my last 2 potential apprentices and I've decided on a new route. Who said that a brilliant soldier couldn't be a female? A deadly rose, a woman who inspires both terror and lust, a woman who may even become powerful enough to rule by my side..."

His last words trailed off and he licked his lips, there had once been a woman like that in Alex's life but fate had different intentions for the couple. But he shook those memories off and turned his full attention back to Elena as they parked on the street in front of his loft. "Your at least staying here tonight, getting yourself cleaned up and checked out by a doctor. If you don't like my offer at first sun that's more then fine by me Elena, I will simply ship you off to one of my associates in Yugoslavia. Christ, it will make Kursky Station look like paradise but ultimately, that choice is yours to make. God forbid I influence you or anything."

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Alex exited the car and awaited her to follow, keeping himself 2 paces behind her just in case she decided to bolt. Between her hurt ankle and knowledge of his gun, he didn't expect any tricks from her but one never knew. He opened the gate for the lift and nodded her forward, pulling out his cellphone and making a quick call to a Dr. Slovenskaya. The conversation was short and lasted only as long as it took the lift to bring them to where Alexander lived and he once again nodded her forward into the hallway with the lone door painted a deep crimson red. "Welcome to my house Elena."

http://www.booking.com/images/hotel/org/980/980000.jpg

Alex closed the door behind them and flipped the lock, safety first and all that considering his line of work. He slid off the grey suit coat and casually tossed it over a chair before sliding off the shoulder holster and setting it on a nearby table. "The Dr. S will be here in about 20 minutes which should be enough time for you to shower and get yourself slightly cleaned up. The bathroom is connected to my bedroom, through the open door to the left. I'll leave the clothes on my bed while you shower and you look like you could use a stiff drink."

The whole time he talked Alex's eyes never left her, watching every movement for signs of her about to rise up against his will. This was not going to be easy and he would really prefer to keep this civil, one dead body really was enough for this evening, but Alex would not stupidly put his guard down and underestimate her. This was going to be an epic battle of wills, for that Alex was prepared and he certainly had no intention of losing, it was simply a matter of how quick it took Elena to realize who truly was in charge anymore.

"Oh, one last thing before you shower my dear. I keep no weapons in my bedroom so don't bother looking for one, you will simply mess up my stuff which will indeed leave me rather unhappy. Now, run along and go get clean my dear, time stops for no one!"

His Bedroom
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His Bathroom
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Alex watched her as she slowly made her way towards the bathroom and he turned away, heading towards his kitchen and grabbing a chilled bottle of Stolichnaya from his fridge and a pair of tumblers. He poured out a glass for himself, about the size of a double and put it down quickly, the vodkas strong burn causing him to wince ever so slightly. This plan of his was indeed insane, a much bigger gamble then Alex would usually take but there was something about her, some quality he could not quite put a finger on that made him so confident in his choice. It was going to be a task to get Elena under his control but Alex was certain he could do it, in his ability to take this street rat and turn her into his masterpeice. But it was a huge gamble and only time would tell what happened to this new pairing, brilliant success or violent failure a simple coin flip away from deciding their newly entwined fates.

 

[Sweet_Denna]

When he dropped her hand back in her lap, she bit her lip. Fuck. Of course a man like Alexander Cherylenko would not be as easily tricked. Of course not. She looked out of the car window, listening to him. While everything he suggested sounded raging mad, he himself did not. His voice was calm now, almost friendly. For Elena, this simply heightened her sense of distrust. In her experience, sweet words were always the prelude to a serious fuck over.

"You’re at least staying here tonight, getting yourself cleaned up and checked out by a doctor. If you don't like my offer at first sun that's more than fine by me Elena, I will simply ship you off to one of my associates in Yugoslavia. Christ, it will make Kursky Station look like paradise but ultimately, that choice is yours to make. God forbid I influence you or anything."

So there was no real choice, of course. It was either this man, or somebody potentially more unpleasant. Elena frowned at his cynicism, but said nothing. What could she say? For the moment, she had zero chances against the man next to her; she did not even have the option of running. Was it not smarter to play along then? He had just said so himself: men were helpless when they thought with their cocks, and she was pretty sure that opportunity would present itself here. At some point, she would catch Alexander Cherylenko in one of these moments.

***

When they entered his apartment, Elena could not help but softly whistle. None of the customers that Zaky had boastfully called ‘upscale’ had called a similar place their own, but then again, most had fucked her in cars or seedy hotel rooms. Business must be going well for the Syndicate. Very well indeed.

Like a child at a fairground, Elena slowly wandered around the apartment. Never in her life had she seen an apartment as luxurious as this one. But everything in his loft looked like he never used, or even touched it. For a moment, Elena wondered how much at home he felt in this place, amongst all these perfectly designed things. But maybe he was simply a very anal person – was that not another typical criteria of mad serial killers? She trailed a finger over the kitchen counter while he spoke. "Oh, one last thing before you shower my dear. I keep no weapons in my bedroom so don't bother looking for one; you will simply mess up my stuff which will indeed leave me rather unhappy. Now, run along and go get clean my dear, time stops for no one!"

Of course she would have looked for weapons in his bedroom and secretly she smiled at his comment. While they were out of each other’s leagues, they certainly were good at guessing how the other one thought. Glancing back at him over her shoulder, she whispered: “I am sure that you are the type who keeps at least a pair of handcuffs in a drawer next to the bed.” But she was not sure if he had heard it.

***

The bathroom was as expensive-looking and meticulous as the rest of the house. Her pink shoes looked ridiculously out of place here; in fact, all of her looked ridiculously out of place. A man like Alexander Cherylenko probably brought back tons of pretty women to his place, and Elena wondered how many he had fucked right there, on the bathroom counter. With a shiver, she could not help but wonder how many had ended up dead in a ditch, too.

She took off her high heels and tossed them carelessly aside, her hoody followed, leaving her in a black lace bra and hotpants. Elena leant on the sink with both hands, and looked at her face in the large bathroom mirror. “Girl, you look like shit.” Her gaze trailed over her body. While she had always been petite, no matter how much fast food she ate, she now looked positively skinny. A large bruise covered most of the right side of her ribcage, and when she gingerly touched the skin, it hurt. A cracked rib was not the end of the world, but it did limit her abilities to move. That fucking pimp. Elena thought that this still was nothing compared to what Zaky would have done had he caught her. Another, much smaller bruise adorned her left cheek, and her lips were bloody and swollen. And the hair…! What the hell did that insane Vor see in her?

Elena peeled herself out of her shorts; a slow and painful procedure during which her ankle caused her much grief, but she would have rather passed out than to ask Alexander Cherylenko for help. Finally, she had rid herself of all her clothes and threw another glance in the mirror. With a humourless grin, she realized that she was all waxed and proper, at least. Why did she even care at this point? Habit, probably.

Under the warm water of the shower she sighed with pleasure. For many minutes, Elena stood there, letting it splash over her skin, as if she hoped that the water could wash away everything bad and horrible. Every bad memory, every nightmare. Even this one. For a few moments, she afforded herself the luxury of running with the lovely prospects that Cherylenko had tried to paint for her: the good life, the beautiful things, the power, the rush. Working for the Vory – deep down, the Chechen whore had a soft spot for the Vory y Zakone: defying authority at all times and under all circumstances: that was something the young woman could fully identify with. It had an almost romantic ring to it.

She shampooed her hair. The dirty blond had grown out far enough to chop off the ends and leave her with a raven black bob. Did that not perfectly fit the image of the deadly temptation that Cherylenko had mentioned? Again, she giggled. All of this was fucking insane. Elena felt no great desire to leave the safety and comfort of the shower and return to her host, but she realized that it was probably not a fantastic idea to leave him – and the mafia doctor – waiting for too long.

Wrapped in several towels, one slung around her head like a turban, she stepped out of the bathroom and went to look for the clothes that Cherylenko had promised to leave for her on the bed and yes, there they were. She had to resist the urge to simply curl up on the bed and fall asleep. Getting dressed was slow and painful, and Elena had to grit her teeth not to groan. When she was finally all done, she stepped out of the bedroom and went to look for her host.

 

[Jokas_Wild]

Both Alex and Dr. Slovenskaya turned at the same time as they heard her soft footsteps exiting his bedroom back into the main living area. Dr S didn't look the part of your typical mafia doctor, holding a simple black case and appearing much closer to someone's grandfather then a guy who made his living pulling bullets out of gangsters and stitching shut stab wounds. His smile was kind, reassuring to Elena if that were possible, he held tight to his hypocratic oath to first do no harm. "Your right Alex, she is quite pretty even in your ugly track pants and a t-shirt. She'll be fine with me, go shower the filth of the streets off yourself and she'll be all patched up by the time your out."

Alex glanced between the Dr and Elena, deciding that she was no threat since Slovenskaya was not only a talented doctor but a former russian soldier in his youth. "Elena, I left you a vodka in that tumbler and the bottle is obviously next to it, take a drink or two before he starts to numb your pain. Secondly and frankly more importantly, behave yourself with Nikolai here, he's both a talented doctor and a very old friend of mine. Your in good hands мой любимчик (my pet)." With that Alex grabbed his shoulder holster and passed by her towards his bedroom, closing & locking the door behind him with a soft chuckle. "No sense in leaving a firearm out, this is meant to be a healing event!"

Dr. S nodded for Elena to take the drink, Alex was right about it dulling her pain. The obvious issues were mostly superficial, her lips had been split and there was a fresh bruise grazing her left cheek but those would heal with time. "So Alex says you have a slight limp and irregular breathing that would indicate some sort of injury to your sternum, correct? I'm not a miracle worker and I make no promises that you will be running a marathon tomorrow but let's see exactly how bad off you are."

Elena compliance was indicative of her trust in the doctor, most likely fueled by the fact that Alex was not hovering and watching every single move which tended to make others nervous. Nikolai was quick and thorough, a highly desired quality in his line of work and indeed diagnosed 2 cracked ribs which was quite obvious from the bruise that took over most of her side. The ankle was only a minor sprain thankfully which meant it would only be a day or two before she would apply for the Bolshoy Ballet Co and live her dancer dreams.

"My dear, all of your injuries are unfortunately things that will only heal with time and care, I wish I could tell you something more helpful. In the mean time I will live you will a small bottle of Vicodin, about 10 should be more then enough which you should take every 4 hours with food as per your level of pain. The next part I will do for you is give you a peice of free advice that you can heed or ignore as per your choosing. Alexander Cherylenko is both brilliant and dangerous as I am sure your already well aware, but there really is a softness under all that. Only one woman has even gotten close to Alex and she....well she let him down and he's never trusted women since. Your more then a common whore to Alex which is obvious otherwise I wouldn't be here fixing you up. Keep an open mind Elena, Alex can change your life for the better or the worse in a blink of the eye though he seems to be leaning towards positive currently. Your apparently very special because if you weren't you would be just as dead as your former pimp there."

Nikolai smiled and took a small bottle of pills from his bag and handed it to her, closing her dainty fingers around it. "Now, don't drink and take these which is ironic considering even I encouraged you taking a drink before we started. But seriously, no more booze tonight if you take a pill for pain, I am in no mood to come back and pump your stomach. While on the thought of your stomach also, please eat something no matter what it is. Alex won't poison your food and you look like you need it so eat up. I hope the next time I see you Miss Elena that it's under better circumstances."

With those closing words, Dr. Slovenskaya placed a gentle kiss to her forehead and then made his way to the door as he wondered what exactly Alex's master plan was with this young girl. Moments after the Docs exit, Alex re-emerged from his bedroom looking refreshed from his shower and in a good mood. Dressed only in a pair of black silk pajama pants with his torso still lightly glistening with a few stray drops of water, Alex knew Elena was looking at his body and that was the idea. Tonight was not about sex, not yet anyway but Alex wanted her to know that he was as alluring to the female species as she was to men. This dance they were doing, this back and forth with each other of testing the waters and figuring out the other's next move was quite fun.

"So, Nikolai patched you up the best he could I assume, did he give you anything for your pain? I am sure he did which kind of kills the idea of sharing a drink, oh well, there is always time for drinking the in future. What I want right now though is to know about you, tell me about yourself and I will return the favor, quid pro quo." Alex caught her quick glance to the scar on his chest though she tried to hide it by shifting her gaze to his tattoos. His scar was thick and puffy, covering a nice 5 inch peice of real estate above his heart. It was a footnote of sorts in his life history, a chapter that he didn't speak about with anyone for Alex was intensely private about the 6 month span that ended with it. "I'm not going to tell you about the scar Elena so put that thought from your mind. Though I will tell you that the easier story to obtain will be about my tattoos since your trying to hide the fact you looked at my scar by staring at those instead. Women love my art, they find it dark and mysterious or something, I just know that they seem to squirm when looking at my chest or back. It's always possible they are simply enjoying the muscle tone that I've worked so hard on, who knows." He flashed her a grin, his confidence oozed from every pore of his being; Alex based his life on the concept that no one argued with the guy who thought himself a god among mortals. It was actually one of the first things Sergei taught him, that the key to success was to turn yourself into something akin to a self-fulfilling legend so no one would dare to challenge you.

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He crossed towards his kitchen and proceeded to go rummaging through his fridge, trying to keep the mood light and low-key. "You talk, I cook, we eat and then get some sleep. This is just about the easiest choice I've ever offered someone, the ability to simply talk to me and be fed with no strings attached. What is it the Americans always say...oh yes, Scouts Honor!" He jokingly holds up his index and middle finger before turning his attention back to his fridge. "How does steak with a simple salad sound?"

 

[Sweet_Denna]

Doctor Slovenskaya was a nice, but strict old man who Elena found immediately sympathetic, despite the fact that he was obviously an integral part of the crime ring. She was relieved to hear that all of her injuries were more or less superficial, and that in only a few days time, she would be fully healed. The only thing she could hope for was that she managed to stay alive long enough. Slovenskaya also seemed to have a very close relationship to Cherylenko who had apparently already given the doctor all the details and reasons of his encounter with the girl while she had been in the shower.

"Now, don't drink and take these which is ironic considering even I encouraged you taking a drink before we started. But seriously, no more booze tonight if you take a pill for pain, I am in no mood to come back and pump your stomach.” Elena closed her fingers around the pill bottle as if he had given her a precious gift and nodded. The warning not to mix the medication and vodka had been superfluous, however. Elena made a point of avoiding alcohol, especially around people she did not trust. No matter how little she drank, the girl simply could not hold her liquor well. “While on the thought of your stomach also, please eat something no matter what it is. Alex won't poison your food and you look like you need it so eat up. I hope the next time I see you Miss Elena that it's under better circumstances." When he then kissed her forehead, Elena had to force herself not to sling her arm around him in gratitude; she did thank him for his care however. “I do hope so, too, Mr. Slovenskaya. I really do hope so, too.”

Elena was sad to see the doctor leave. He had inspired some sort of safety and comfort in her, a feeling she desperately missed. She also felt that the older man had a calming presence, and would probably keep Cherylenko from doing anything rash, like killing her for example. She pondered what the old man had said, and again asked herself what the fuck a man like Cherylenko saw in her. Maybe she should have asked the doctor a few more questions, but quite frankly she had not dared to. Studying the small glass bottle in her hand, her thoughts wandered to the woman that had had such a grip on the crime boss. Was she still alive? Had she gotten the better of him and gotten away with it? But then Cherylenko emerged from his bedroom and cut of her train of thoughts.

Elena was not shy, and coyness had never been part of her job requirements. When Cherylenko walked into the room, a faint smile played around the corners of her mouth and raised an eyebrow in adoration of what she saw. Of course, he had the arrogance to match. The combination of both probably worked wonders with the ladies, but Elena was not easily impressed by boastful talk. The scar did intrigue her; in Elena’s opinion, flaws were indefinitely more interesting than perfection, and his immediate defiance of any questions concerning the history of this scar sparked her curiosity. ‘It looks like the woman the good doctor mentioned did a thorough job at breaking your heart’, Elena cynically thought in reply to his warning. But she was not suicidal enough to dare and challenge his refusal to talk about the scar. The painkillers she had taken started to kick in, and the throbbing pain in the various parts of her body subsided; for a short moment, she was almost content. For the uninvolved onlooker, the scene would have resembled a relaxed evening shared between two lucky people; maybe he or she would have even felt the slight sting of envy. Elena smiled, and closed her eyes for a moment, listening to his light-hearted suggestions of how to spend the night. Nobody had ever envied her for anything.

While he rummaged through the contents of his fridge, Elena sat down on the leather couch facing the kitchen; which created a small safety distance to Cherylenko that she was grateful for. For the length of a few heartbeats, she silently sipped her water and studied the depiction of St. Basil’s church that covered his back, lost in thought.

Did he think she was going to spill her guts to him; the man who was technically her kidnapper and who had threatened to shoot her several times during the past hour? In a very small and hidden corner of her heart, Elena wanted to believe Alexander Cherylenko’s words and promises, she wanted him to be the guy who was genuinely interested in her life, the man who could maybe even become someone she trusted - she desperately wanted him to be all that because it was the one thing she also desperately needed. An ally. A friend. But just as clear as this was to her, she knew that she could not reveal her fears and ghosts to him because he would undoubtedly use them against her. That was how it had always been; on the few occasions that she had been naïve enough to believe someone really cared about her.

The memories she carried made her weak, and weakness was a luxury she truly could not afford. Constant rejection had helped her build the thick wall she had erected around herself, brick by brick, and Elena had found that the easiest way to avoid rejection was to never connect with anybody. And no, she would not share her life’s story with Cherylenko either, she would not tell him about the things that haunted her: That after her older brother was killed by a stray bullet her father died of heart failure, leaving the remaining three women, her mother, her younger sister and herself, destitute and without protection in a quasi warzone. That she then had lost her virginity to a soldier who had raped her in a ditch, a guy who had smelled of kerosene and moist earth, and who had called her “my dirty Chechen witch” with a strong Northern accent. That her mother from then on had not spoken a single word to her, except one – “whore”, and that the atmosphere in her home town, a small community close to Grozny, had become increasingly hostile, finally forcing her to leave. That in Moscow, she had tried to find an earnest job and had ended up as a prostitute, and that she still sent part of the little money she earned home, anonymously, to help her mother and sister – ironic as it somehow was.

Her life was a chain of fucking tragedies, none of them significant enough to the world to really matter. Wasn’t that all he needed to know? The moment of silence dragged on, and Elena knew that she would have to say something soon to not piss Cherylenko off. “Yeah, steak and salad sounds good”, she finally said. “And yes, I like your tattoos, too.” Jesus, her next try had to be a little less lame. “There isn’t much to say about my life. I moved to Moscow when I was sixteen, and ended up working for Zaky. It was not the kind of job I dreamed of as a little girl, but it pays the bills.” Elena took another sip from her glass, and put it down on the table in front of her. “The one thing I had always wanted to do was to become a journalist, in fact, and hell, I would have a few stories to write about by now.” Her gaze fell on Cherylenko again who had silently continued preparing dinner. Elena wanted to trust him so much at this moment, at this tiny moment, that her heart ached with need to give in. Fuck, did the bottle of painkillers maybe contain some kind of hippie drug? She bit her lip and swallowed the words she should not say.

And no, she did not want to know about the tattoos or the scar or the woman; at this point she did not care about any of these things. However, there was something that she did want to know: “After you have killed your very first victim, how did you deal with the nightmares?” Her voice was low, but serious and firm. Elena was not sure why she asked him this, and why she simply assumed that a killer like Cherylenko was even able to feel remorse. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I have never slept a single night without seeing the face of the cop I killed.”

 

[Jokas_Wild]

The question definetly was not what Alex was expecting and it gave him pause for a moment as he simply stared down at the new york strips cooking up. Elena certainly had a knack for asking tough questions, she would of made a great journalist had her life taken a different track. His first reaction was to give her some sarcastic answer, maybe play up the crazy card but somehow that felt the exact wrong thing to do. This was Elena being honest, a very real moment shared and wasn't that what Alex had been striving for? To be real with her in this moment was not to show weakness but to instead be human, maybe Alex needed that just as much as she did.

"The first time I killed anyone was the day I met Sergei, the man who became my mentor and really my father. Sergei had me execute a man I had never met before, a bleeding mess tied to a chair who had already been worked over pretty good. Killing him was my initiation and it really wasn't an option, it was either kill him or I would be joining him shortly in the afterlife. I told myself that ultimately I was doing that guy a favor, a sort of angel of mercy since he had been so badly beaten before I got there. When I finally went home it all caught up with me at once, everything I had kept hidden from Sergei came exploding out. I spent until dawn wretching my guts out and crying, it was too much to process for a 20 year old kid who until then had been a simple runner."

Alex finally looked over at Elena after flipping the steaks, her face unable to hide the surprise at the brutal honestly of his confession. He just gave her a single nod as to reassure that the story was true before he continued, attention once again turned back to his cooking.

"I thought it would haunt me forver, that pleading look in his eyes just before I pulled the trigger. The crack of the shot echoing in that warehouse, the splatter of skull and brain matter hitting the concrete. I didn't sleep more then 4 hours a night for that first month because the nightmares were too vivid, I would make up screaming and in a sweat. My performance was slipping at work and Sergei noticed it, pulling me aside and getting the story out of me easily. Sergei then taught me something that has proven priceless in my quest to hold together my sanity in my bloody climb to the top. You need to learn to compartmentalize the killing Elena, to put it in its own little box in your mind and shelve that away. All the blood I've spilled, all the life I've ended, all my heinous acts are in that box and they stay there otherwise it would consume me to my core. Now I'd be lying if I said it didn't touch some parts of me still and mostly it shows up in my never ending quest for power, that drive to be on top no matter the cost."

Alex expertly cut a small slit into the centers of both fillets and smile of pride graced his lips. "A perfect medium, I could of been a chef!" He grabbed some plates from the overhead cabinetry and placed the fragrants slabs of steak of on them, deposting them on the table behind him. "Give me a minute on the salad and then we shall eat what I promise might be the greatest meal of your life. Well, maybe not the best but I am sure aiming for a top 5 finish at least!"

Elena was correct in her observation about Alex being anal about his loft, this space he maintained to an obsessive extent. This was where he lived, cooked, ate, slept, made love, it was the one place in the world where Alex could always feel safe no matter what underworld wars raged on in the streets below. It was another part of his mental compartmentalizing, a space that was almost sterile in it's perfection and so tottally removed from his usual reality. Cooking was a love of Alex's, it was his both his passion and yet another of his compartments for staying grounded when nothing else in his life made sense. The fact that he got to cook for a woman, well that was just a bonus to him. No matter how hard he acted around Elena, there was always the part of Alex's brain that registered every subtle feminine curve and delicate feature. The fact that she was damaged, broken in a way that Alex could relate to somehow made her more attractive as though their combined bad experiences could unite them. That primal part in the brain where his base male instincts lived kept whispering that Alex should just get a taste of her, a little sample of Elena to see if she truly was everything he imagined her to be. But Alex shook off the thought and decided to re-direct to conversation, to quiet those pesky voices and regain control of himself before he make a mistake.

"Now, my turn for a question Elena and it's a gem. Have you ever been in love?" He let the question hang in the air as he finished the salad in short order, setting the bowl in the center of the table along with a small salad plate for them both and the proper flatware. "I figure since we're going with big questions here, why not toss out my own bomb." A smile as he sits down in the chair with his eyes locked on her, even while serving himself from the salad bowl never breaking his gaze. If she wanted to ask such deep questions that was fine by him but it was not without a certain risk involved in that Alex would fire right back at her and he would doggedly get an answer that satisfied. You learned a wealth of information from simple people watching, for the body told things that the lips may not wish to betray with a glance or twitch or sniff at a question. These were the subtle clues that Alex's gaze was probing for in an attempt to learn some deep truth buried in Elena's soul.

 

[Sweet_Denna]

Amazed, Elena listened as he calmly responded to her question, down to the last painful detail. The scent of herbs and a hint of roasted garlic had started to sift through the room, and Elena’s stomach grumbled in anticipation. Only now did she realize how hungry she really was. With her finger, she drew invisible lines on the leather of the couch while he spoke. And while he did not omit anything in his answer, he had obviously come to terms with what had happened. He had found peace in the delusion that he had mercy-killed that unfortunate guy, that he had in fact done a good deed. It made that murder sound like a painful necessity.

Of course, he was a professional killer. As he himself admitted, Cherylenko had climbed to the top over dead bodies, and Elena was sure that in order to stay in that position, he would have to keep eliminating those that were in the way. Hell, she had just witnessed him at work barely an hour earlier, and here he was, cooking up a pair of medium steaks, chatting away casually. He had clearly perfected the method his mentor had taught him, Zaky had already neatly been stacked away in a mental box, probably somewhere where Cherylenko’s eyes would never even fall on that box again.

The warehouse kill had left a mark on him, however. Elena wondered if he had ever felt like that guy Sergei was really the one responsible for his life to become one fucked up chain of death and murder and pain and fear. Did he ever blame him for turning him into this killer that he was today? Did he ever hate him for it? But she bit her tongue; his adoration for his mentor was evident, and she was afraid that such a delicate question might tip his mental balance back to more violent means of expression. “His father”, he had called him. Did he have a real family, too? Did men like Alexander Cherylenko have the right to such basic normality? What would they think of his career choice – and did they even know? For him, everything had started with Sergei, at the bottom of a very steep ladder.

That cop, however, had been a different matter altogether. Cutting his throat had both been an act of revenge and an act of self-defense. The images suddenly flashed through her mind, and she could not help but wince. For three days that filthy pig had acted out his sick rape fantasies with her, had abused and tortured her, and her useless son of a bitch pimp had been too coked up to even notice that she did not turn up at his flat to hand him the cash. In the end, somehow, she had managed to turn the tables, and the chain of events that ensued had left that sadistic motherfucker of a cop with a kitchen knife stuck in his throat. Unforeseen it had been, and completely unplanned. From then on, things had spiraled more and more out of control, and had it not been for Cherylenko, she would have probably ended up at the bottom of the River Moskva.

She did not plan on killing anybody else. Of course, his insane plan of turning her into his fair lady entailed that she would sometimes fuck to please and sometimes fuck to kill, but Elena still hoped that she would find a way to slip from his grasp. Not only because she did not trust the crime boss enough to seriously consider working for him, but also because she was sure that she would fail him. In her opinion, she simply did not have what it took to play the part of the femme fatale; she lacked the self-assurance a woman like that would need. That was the point where both of their experiences radically diverged.

Even his first kill, as traumatizing as it had obviously proved to be, had happened and left him in a position of power. Elena on the other hand was used to be the one who was powerless, who was left at the mercy of some asshole with a gun, or a knife or a broken beer bottle. She only ever fought back when cornered, with absolutely no other place to run, and her life on the line. It made a huge difference. While she was programmed to survive, she was not used to fighting back. Elena just did not have the confidence to, and her first choice was always that of a terrified rabbit: to flee.

Nevertheless, his honest confession impressed her. In her experience, men like Cherylenko usually kept anything that might make them look weak very close to the chest. And here he was, revealing to her that he had cried, that he had been scared shitless, and that he still had to brace himself not to give in to his emotions at times. For a few seconds, she simply looked at him, her large eyes locked to his, pondering the twisted roads of fate that had lead the two of them here, to this very moment, this room, and this strange intimacy. While they could not have been any more different, the common ground they both shared was undeniable. They were both pretty fucked up.

His next question caught her completely off-guard. "Now, my turn for a question Elena and it's a gem. Have you ever been in love?" Her initial reaction was to laugh, thinking that he was taking the piss. But no, he was utterly serious. The soft laughter fell from her lips and she raised both eyebrows, and slightly tilted her head.

“No. Never.”

She realized that this answer was pretty short and unexciting after his long and honest story about his first kill. But what else could she tell him? It was the truth, after all.

Somehow she wished that she could dish out some cheesy story about how she had been madly in love with the handsome young guy down the street, that they had met and exchanged kisses in secret, lest their parents would find out and punish them and that this beautiful story had ended in tragedy when he – the young guy who had sworn eternal love to her – died defending his future bride against a pack of drunken Russian soldiers. Of course, this story would have ended with her killing each and every one of these sons of bitches in revenge, and a last oath at the grave of her beloved to never give herself to anybody else…

Yeah, that would have been a neat tale to entertain him with, but things had turned out differently for her and very likely for most people. On top of that, she thought with a hint of anger, there was a clear shortage of eligible young men where she came from, they had been killed and kidnapped in great numbers and all that was left now were throngs of widows and lonely women, but there was no use in entering such shaky ground. Politics, as she had quickly – and often painfully - found out, was not a good topic for a whore to discuss with most (Russian) men.

Looking at him over her plate, her black eyes shining under long lashes, she shrugged helplessly. “I mean, there have been men I did not find entirely unpleasant to fuck, and I did have a crush on one of my regulars which went as far as me granting him the right to little free gifts when Zaky was not around.”

With these words, she started to cut the first piece of the steak in front of her, and brought it to her lips. A blissful smile spread over her face when she bit down. There was a hint of thyme, and sautéed garlic, and the meat was cooked to juicy perfection. Elena closed her eyes and swallowed, before playfully pointing her fork at him: “If you keep feeding me like this, I might fall in love with you.” There was a short awkward moment of silence, and she blushed; not because she was ashamed of her remark, but because she realized that she had just given in to the weakness of feeling at ease with this man, this blood-thirsty crime boss, and all it had taken was a mouthful of meat. Cutting off and chewing another piece, she decided to be more careful.

“So what about you? Have you ever been in love, Mr. Cherylenko?” Of course, the good doctor Slovenskaya had already given her part of the answer to that question, but Cherylenko did not know that. Elena wondered if he would reveal something that she suspected being closely linked to the scar that graced his chest.

 

[Jokas_Wild]

“So what about you? Have you ever been in love, Mr. Cherylenko?” Alex considered his options of how he would answer that question while slowly chewing a peice of his steak. It was fucked up but Alex found it easier to talk about murder and death then to talk about the one time he had allowed himself to fall in love with someone. Alex swallowed the morel and took a sip of water before deciding that he didn't have much to lose by continuing with his honesty with her. "Yes I was Elena, one time. But if your going to ask me questions like that I'm going to have to insist you call me Alex. Mr Cherylenko is so formal and I think we're just a little bit past that point now." Another sip of water as Alex took a moment to gauge exactly how much he felt like telling Elena before starting in on his story.

"Petra." The name just hung in the air for a moment before Alex continued, just the mere utterance of her name stirring old feelings up within him. "Her name was Petra Volak and she was to be my wife at one point, a woman who knew all my dark secrets and didn't shy from them. It was all so very fast, maybe 6 months start to finish for our whole relationship but it was magic while it lasted. Petra was the gasoline to my fire and maybe that's why it was so short, maybe we just exploded at first contact and burned out together accordingly in the short blaze." Alex shook his head gently, taking another bite of food to buy himself a moment as he once again debated how much he felt like revealing, something about Elena seemed to loosen his tounge much more then usual. Maybe it was because deep down inside Alex wanted to connect to somebody just like Elena did but both were so guarded they couldn't trust anyone. It was this underlying ache for human contact, real human contact, that propelled Alex forward in his story.

"Petra Volak it turned out was not just merely a beautiful woman who happened to be at Sanctuary the night we met. I was an assignment apparently, a job that Petra had picked up from the Federov Family of all people." Alex licked his lips at that last part, his hatred of all things Federov obviously extended beyond simple business matters with that little confession. "I didn't know it but she was hired to find me, seduce me and eventually kill me when the time was right. Apparently she decided that it was the perfect time on the night I asked her to marry me, to become my queen of this empire of blood." A hard swallow and Alex decided he was already emotionally all in with Elena for reasons he couldn't explain and the last part just fell from his lips. "She tried to cut my heart out. Apparently the black heart of Alexander Cherylenko was the trophy that the Federovs wanted so they could show it off to friends and enemies alike."

It was with that final admission that Alex stopped talking for a minute and just ate in silence, not even looking at Elena. His mind was replaying that fateful evening, the shared glasses of champagne, the sparkle in her eyes as she slid on the engagement ring and happily shreiked her acceptance of his proposal. Their passionate fucking in celebration, bodies slick with sweat and desire as they consumated their new bond repeatedly all over Alex's loft. The warmth of Petra curled into Alex's arms as they fell asleep, that last perfect moment before it all went to hell. The next memory was where it went bad, the intense pain that jolted him from his sleep as Petra drove a blade deep into the left side of his chest and yanked down. His throwing of her across the room and scrambling for his gun before the shock set in, desperate moments of survival. Watching Petra get back to her feet, even in this moment her naked form as beautiful as any angel, moving towards a hasty exit. Watching her exit his bedroom just as he got to his gun, propping himself up on his shoulder and trying to steady himself to get off a shot that was not to be. He could of got her, least shot her in the leg to slow her down but Alex couldn't make himself do it, some part of him was still confused and in love with her. Petra was gone in moments and Alex was left laying on his bedroom floor, bleeding profusely and not sure if he would make it through the evening. With his last bit of strength, Alex managed to dial Dr. Slovenskaya and sputter out a plea for help before slipping into unconciousness. Petra Volak had disappeared into the night forever and wether she knew it or not, she had indeed taken a part of Alexander Cherylenko's heart with her.

"Obviously I survived that night Elena and I carry that with me everyday, the scar reminds me that love is a simple luxury that I can't afford. I can fuck any woman I want as long as I never love them, never let them stay the night with me, never let the close enough to hurt me. Which makes you a rare exception to that rule actually since I both cooked for you and am having you stay here with me. Maybe I'm really starting to lose it, maybe your another Petra Volak sent to finish the job. It's not impossible, Zaky there claimed to be Federov and the whole doe eyed thing may all be an act to make me feel secure since you appear harmless. How did I never consider that till right now?"

The words hung heavy in the air as Alex and Elena finished their respective, after which found him clearing their plates and flatware into the sink. Elena's face said it all, she was stung by the accusation of being some Federov puppet and she moved away from him back to one of his couches. Alex knew that the intimacy they were sharing had just been scarred and it was up to him to regain it so he decided on a quick peace offering. Sitting in his freezer was Alex's secret weapon for getting his way with women, chocolate gellato imported direct from Italy. He scooped out 2 dishes and made his way towards her, sitting on the other half of the couch she had chosen. "I'm sorry, that wasn't fair of me to say Elena, please accept my apology. It's a rather delicious one too if I do say so myself, please, let's not ruin a surprisingly pleasent evening." Dish and spoon extended out to her, a small smile on his face as he once again was struck by how badly he wanted to taste those battered and swollen lips. To taste her imperfections, to kiss her bruises, to explore her delicate body and make it yield to his every touch, responsive to his every whim. But a shake of his head once again dashed those thoughts and his focus was back to the gellato bribe. "It's a shame to waste what's essential sex in a bowl my dear..."

 

[Sweet_Denna]

As it turned out, the tragic tale of love that Cherylenko shared with her was dramatic enough for the both of them. Several times during his story Elena looked at him with wide eyes, her fork hanging in mid-air, while she struggled to imagine what a harsh blow this must have been for him. And to try and cut out somebody’s heart! To demand a heart of an enemy as a trophy! Elena suddenly had trouble to chew the morsel of meat in her mouth. These mafiya types were all batshit crazy. There simply was no other explanation for an assignment like this. For an uncomfortable moment, she imagined jars lined up in Cherylenko’s pantry, all filled with preservative liquid and rosy lumps of flesh.

During the long silence that ensued after he had finished his story, she found herself wanting to touch his hand that was resting next to his plate, but she could not bring herself to extend her fingers. So those were the ghosts that haunted the crime boss then.

He was more fucked up than she had previously suspected. The scar covered much more than skin tissue, it had extended far beyond the few inches above his heart; it had taken root in his innermost core like a poisonous plant. In the end, it had been its sap that had killed Zaky.

When he talked again, his voice had taken on a flat, cold, almost threatening tone and she flinched. “…Maybe I'm really starting to lose it, maybe you’re another Petra Volak sent to finish the job. It's not impossible, Zaky there claimed to be Federov and the whole doe eyed thing may all be an act to make me feel secure since you appear harmless. How did I never consider that till right now?"

His sudden suspicion drove a cold shiver down her spine. She did not blame him for allowing these accusations to cross his mind; of course the thought would occur to him after everything that had happened. How would he know that Zaky had been too stupid to even plan a functioning work schedule for the three sorry whores he had called his own? To a brilliant and deviant mind, the thought of placing a street rat in the lion’s den to destroy him would indeed seem tempting. Who would suspect a beat-up little whore to be a secret and deadly weapon?

Her eyes widened in terror as she realized that this very thought had already occurred to Cherylenko himself. It was in fact the reason he had picked her up in the first place. Her lips started to tremble in fear. If Cherylenko would convince himself that she was simply bait and out to kill him, he would not hesitate for one second to shoot her right there and then.

Hilariously, the crime boss misread the look in her eyes as hurt and insulted by his suspicion. She sat on the couch, stiff as a board with fear, only to see him scramble in order to console her again. Elena was surprised to find him so eager to bridge the gap he had torn open between them. It almost felt like he tried to cheer up a pouty lover, as if he tried to backpaddle after he had for once refused her another of her countless whims. The Chechen girl tried to hide her relief as best as she could and forced a smile to appear on her lips. His words of apology almost forced a hysterical giggle from her throat. "I'm sorry, that wasn't fair of me to say Elena, please accept my apology. It's a rather delicious one too if I do say so myself, please, let's not ruin a surprisingly pleasant evening." It dawned on her that this man was himself desperate to trust someone again, to connect to another human being on a real and fear-free level. It terrified her that she seemed to be the lab rat for him to test the waters of social interaction.

Yes, they really had many things in common, the crime boss Alexander Cherylenko and the whore Elena.

Before she accepted the offered ice cream, she frowned at him, obviously mulling over something he had said. “Did you ever consider the possibility that the only reason you are still alive, the only reason that she failed in her job could be that she loved you just as much as you loved her?” Not waiting for the answer, she took the bowl from his extended hand, and scooped a little of the ice cream onto the spoon.

Avoiding his eyes, afraid to have crossed a line, she concentrated on the delicious ice cream, and brought it to her lips. If the Federovs were worth even half the hate that Cherylenko felt for them, they would not have chosen a woman as incapable as that Petra seemed to have been. There were so many ways to kill a trustful man in his sleep, and Elena was sure that an assassin sent to kill the mighty Alexander Cherylenko in a plot so devilishly planned had knowledge of all of them, and probably a few more. And yet she had failed.

Who knew how their choice had fallen on Petra Volak in the first place? Again, Elena had the doubtful advantage of knowing exactly what it was like to be on the receiving end of intimidation and terror; the Federovs would easily have found means to make that woman compliant to their every wish. Cherylenko could not place himself in her position, he was unable to because he could not allow himself to know what powerlessness could mean. The delicate girl felt a sudden rush of compassion for that woman Petra, and for what she might have sacrificed solely out of fear. She wanted to know if she was still alive, if Cherylenko had ever tried to find her again, but she did not dare to ask.

Nervously Elena lifted her gaze, her lips still wrapped around the little silver spoon. The blue of his eyes seemed darker now, like the surface of a storm-blown, icy ocean.

 

[Jokas_Wild]

Alex couldn't help but allow himself another small smile, Elena's consistent but gentle probing once again showed brilliance had she been a reporter. But the smile quickly turned into a slight frown as he thought about the content of the question, wether Petra had indeed loved Alex. He had never really thought about it honestly, simply chalking up his survival as a combination of luck and the sheer will to survive. But that simple answer never set right with Alex because in these brief scrambeled moments of the scuffle, he swore he had heard Petra say she wished that things were different.

"I learned alot more about my potential bride after the stabbing, I guess I was so enamored that I didn't feel the need to do the research before hand. Petra was indeed a world class assassin with a trail of bodies scattered all over Europe and the Pacific rim though no one knows how or why she got started in the business. Petra had never failed before me and has not failed since either as far as I can tell, I have my people keep tabs on her work. Cutting out hearts is her signature, a true black widow, which is why I think the Federovs were so eager to employ her and her skill set. Maybe she did love me, maybe thats why she took so long before attacking me but it's alot of maybes. In our world Elena, we deal in certainties and a failed hit is extremely rare when it comes to someone of Petra's caliber. If she did love me, it was not part of the plan. But I'll never know and I don't think I want too either, that scar is all I ever need to know about her again. "

He quietly finished his gelato, his eyes telling the story that his mind was raging with thoughts about his past, about Petra, about a love lost. Alex was struggling to keep those thoughts repressed and quickly took a different tact for living in his past was not a good experience for it bred weakness and that wasn't an option for him.

"You come to realize that love is a luxury Elena, something that maybe the common man can indulge in but it was a blunder that almost cost me my life. Plus love is not at all needed in terms of sex, all that requires is a soft female form to satisfy ones more basic needs. You know that all to well I'm sure, how men look at you with a certain amount of hunger at your feminine form. Your quite beautiful Elena even with your bruises, you will clean up nicely I am sure."

A hand reached out and collected her empty bowl of ice cream along with his, moving off the couch and tossing them into the sink to be cleaned later along with the dinner plates. He stood at the sink for a moment, leaning against it with his head slightly bowed, an unspoken internal conflict raging in his mind. After a moment Alex had made some silent choice and his gaze turned back to Elena, his voice low and gentle, a stark contrast to how he had spoken to her when they first met.

"Your welcome to my bed this evening and I don't expect anything more out of you then a request that you don't snore. Tomorrow morning I will have one of my guys take you on the town to get you a complete wardrobe and a haircut, that blonde shit has to go. Don't think about price, just whatever you want, whatever you think will be useful in your new life I want you to get it." A small grin spread across his face, deciding to drop a small hint that would benefit him. "I like black in terms of lingere, stilletos for shoes and am intoxicated by the whisper of stocking clad legs, just putting it out there. But buy whatever you want Elena and as much as you want, money is obviously not of consequence to me. Just remember that you are mine now Elena and I am offering you a better life as hard as it may be to believe. Now, I'm heading to bed if you care to join me or you can stay out here on the couch though I'd really like the feel of a warm body next to me."

Alex turned and left the kitchen, heading to his bed and pulling back the covers all the while silently hoping to hear the soft pad of her footsteps. It seemed like an eternity before he heard any sort of movement and then her lithe frame was outlined in the doorframe to his bedroom. "Come Elena, get some sleep and embrace your new life with me..."


*The Next Morning*

Alex woke up well before Elena and he took a moment, propped up on an elbow and watching her sleep peacefully. She looked like a fallen angel to Alex, maybe she was a harbinger of a better life for the both of him. But those thoughts were premature, flights of fancy really and he shook them off, slipping from bed and heading towards the bathroom to shave and freshen up before getting dressed for the day.

It was another hour before Elena would finally stir and be greeted with the smell of strong pot of coffee brewing in his kitchen. Alex smiled at her when she finally emerged from his bedroom, a mug steaming on the coffee table between the couches next to a large bag. "That's for you though I recommend you hurry and drink it for you don't have much time." A quick glance to his watch confirmed that thought and Alex ran his hands along his suit to smooth out any stray wrinkles. "Ivan will be downstairs with a car to take you out in 15 minutes for your day of shopping and then meeting me at Sanctuary later today. In the bag is some simple clothes for you, I estimated your size and had my men get you a pair of jeans and a t-shirt along with socks and panties. Should also be a pair of sneakers in there also, Nikes I believe, that's what all the cool kids are wearing I've been told."

In that moment, Alex decided to indulge an urge he had been fighting since last night and crossed to her. He gently tilted her chin upwards towards him and took her lips in a surprisingly tender kiss, it was something he had felt the urge to do since almost running her over. "I will see you this evening Elena, please don't disappoint me in the meantime. I have to go though, business never stops just because I'm indulging myself in a project. Remember, Ivan, 15 minutes!"

With that Alex gave her a playful slap on the ass and exited the loft, off to conduct Durbanski business with full confidence that Elena would be complient with his wishes. For the first time in a long time, Alex was some semblance of happy as he hopped off the lift and eased himself into the Mercedes. Today was going to be a good day and later tonight would be Elena's first real test so needless to say, the day had limitless potential in his eyes. Who knows where their newly joined path would take these two damaged souls but no doubt it was going to be interesting.

 

[Sweet_Denna]

Elena had a hard time falling asleep. While she listened to Cherylenko’s even breathing, she stared into the dark of his bedroom, unsure while she had not chosen the couch over this. Everything that had happened, everything that had been said raced through her head, causing her mind to spin with exhaustion. He knew where Petra was then, and yet did not act out on his certain urge for revenge, did he still love her? Did she try to find him, too? And why did he tell her all of this?

The questions and the lack of answers finally caused her to fall in an uneasy sleep, which was again filled with nightmares. When she woke up the next morning, she felt tired, and her body ached. Was she surprised to find that Cherylenko had not even tried to touch her? Maybe a little, yes. Rubbing her eyes, she sleepily stepped out of the bedroom, to find him in an outstanding good mood.

***

He was long out of the door when she still stood in the middle of the room, unable to move. A little dazed, she touched her lips, where she felt his kiss linger. What the fuck had gotten into him? Again, his sudden softness scared her more than it soothed her fear, but she could not help but smile when she played the scene over again in her mind. The look in his eyes, his tender touch...maybe there was more to Alexander Cherylenko than what met the eye.

He had left her by herself in his apartment, a space that was almost sacred to him. She could have tried to run away, to search for money, weapons, his secret porn collection. Ivan was probably already waiting outside, maybe he even watched her over some tiny surveillance camera that she was unaware about – but still. Something had changed fundamentally since last night, when Cherylenko had almost run her over. Lost in thought like this, she almost forgot that she was supposed to be downstairs in only a few minutes. “Fuck”, she muttered, before darting to the bathroom to take a quick shower and getting ready for what she suspected would become the strangest day yet.

Downstairs she found Ivan; a dark guy with shades and a challenging smile playing around his lips, leaning against a black Mustang. A cigarette loosely screwed between his lips – very beautiful lips as Elena immediately noticed – he motioned for her to get in the backseat, but did not bother to open the door for her. Apparently, he was more than just a driver.

Their first stop was a hairdresser in a district of Moscow that Elena had never set foot in; a salon so elegantly furnished that Ivan needed to shove her in after she had stood in the doorway, gawking. The hairdresser scoffed at the sight of the grown-out dye job and the bruised face of the girl, and threw his hands up in a dramatic gesture of despair. “Tell your boss that he will owe me for this”, he said and pointed a pair of scissors accusatively at Ivan. “I am not the fairy godmother, you know.” He then clapped his hands to call forth a small army of cosmetologists, manicurists and hairdressers, who all started working on an overwhelmed Elena.

As it turned out, the talent of the maestro was only a few inches short of magic. The Chechen girl stared at the young woman that looked back at her from the mirror. Her raven hair was now barely at chin length, accenting her slender neck and the delicacy of her face. The cosmetologist had somehow managed to make her fading bruise disappear, and her ruby lips were also fully restored. Elena smiled. For the first time ever, she really did feel beautiful. From a corner of her eyes she saw Ivan looking at her, too, and he nodded approvingly, his eyebrows raised in astonishment. What he saw, was a completely new girl. Her own black eyes appeared larger and more mysterious despite the little eye shadow that the woman had carefully applied.

After the hair and the make-up came several boutiques, and shoe stores, all of which she left with an assortment of dresses, blouses and skirts. Elena would have never guessed how exhausting it was to be rich. Figuring that Cherylenko would expect her to wear something fitting for the occasion, she changed her jeans, t-shirt and sneakers against an elegant black dress in a 20s flappers style that made her look both girlish and breathtakingly seductive.

With her ankle still hurting like this, stilettos really were not an option, but she bought herself a pair of beautiful black shoes with small heels that matched her elegant 20s dress and the silken stockings that Cherylenko had hinted at. She did not want to risk pissing him off, and somehow she liked the thought of pleasing him, of appearing attractive in his eyes. Elena decided to blame this on the female hunting instinct; and told herself that it had nothing to do with the crime boss himself.

Sitting in the back of the car, Elena stared out the window, unsure of what to make of all this. Ivan turned his head and informed her: “There is one last stop we have to make.” He parked the car in front of a boutique that apparently sold nothing but very exclusive lingerie. “Voilà, here we are.” Ivan smiled. “While I would not mind to help you choose your working clothes, sugar, I think Alex would probably break my neck if I would catch a glimpse of what is only his to share.” The hunger in his eyes was unmistakable and Elena shivered at the sound of his words; not an entirely unpleasant feeling as she had to admit to herself. “I’ll be out here if you need me.”

Lace bras and panties, garter belts and soft corsets were lined up inside the store, all unique, and one more tasteful than the other. Nothing like that cheap porn stuff Zaky had made her wear. But did people really pay that kind of money for things that they would wear for a few minutes before taking them off again to fuck? With a shrug, she chose a few items, hesitated a few seconds before taking a beautiful silk corset for the price of a small car. Had Cherylenko not insisted that money was of no importance to him? A very discreet saleswoman just nodded at her with a smile and showed her the way to the changing rooms.

While Elena admired the black silk corset that underlined her female form in all the right places, she heard the soft sound of nearing footsteps which were followed by the faint whoosh of the heavy velvet curtain being moved aside. “Not afraid of a broken neck anymore?” Elena joked. But before she could even turn around, she was roughly shoved against the wall of the changing room from behind, while a strong hand was firmly placed over her mouth. “You really were the very last person I expected to see here, darling.” It was not Ivan. Elena started to struggle against her attacker, her fingers uselessly digging into the back of his hand, while he held her pinned against the wall without effort.

“Stop making a fuss, you little piece of shit.” The aggressiveness of these words was underlined by a cold blade pressed against her throat. Elena froze. His hand slid from her mouth, sure that she would not be stupid enough to try and scream now. He was right.

He whispered in her ear, while his free hand caressed her hair. “So here I am, picking out a little something for my wife, and who do I run into?” His tone was casual, as if they were having a conversation in a café, discussing the latest gossip. “First I did not believe my eyes. Look at you, sweetheart - a little whore all dressed up as a lady. He even gave you one of his best men as your driver! That was a little rash.” One finger ran over her lower lip, lovingly almost.

“Running with the wolves now, are we, you Chechen bitch?” He let the blade glide playfully over her cheek, and Elena winced. “Playing with the big kids, eh?” His fingers gripping her hair, he roughly pulled her head back, and her terrified eyes met his. “Looks like that son of a whore Cherylenko has a thing for fucked up birds.” Trying to make her voice sound as calm as possible, she whispered: “What do you want? Who are you?”

He frowned, and anger flashed up in his green eyes. “You don’t remember me? Aww, I am almost hurt now, Elena.” She started to tremble, frantically trying to piece together the parts of this shitty puzzle. Working for Zaky, she had met all kinds of psychos, she had fucked sick bastards and sucked off quite a few violent perverts, but none of them had the means to shop in a store as exclusive as this one. Who the fuck was this man? She did not seem to remember his face, his voice did not ring a bell either. Yet he very obviously knew who she was, and what she was. Then the images came rushing back, hitting her like a fist. It was the faint scent of his aftershave that brought everything back. The slightly musky scent of his aftershave. One never really realized the true capability of one’s olfactory memory.

Hovering over her like a hungry predator, he saw her eyes widen in fearful recognition. A cold grin split his face. “So you do remember, don’t you, Elena?” She did. Indeed she did. She remembered the scent of the man who had repeatedly raped her, while his friend and colleague, the cop who was now dead had watched. He had left before it had all turned to shit, and Elena’s brain had mercifully erased all superfluous information. “Actions have consequences, darling. And you must have known that your rash actions would have terrible, terrible consequences, no? You have been a naughty little whore, Elena. A murderous little whore.” At this point, Elena felt her knees weaken, and had he not held her tightly in his grip, she might have stumbled and fallen. “You killed a cop, you filthy slut. A sergeant who was an honourable member of the Moscow police department, a husband and a father. Do you really think that you would get away with something like this, only because your idiot pimp paid a few rubles?” Elena’s mind was racing frantically. Ivan was only a few meters away, outside the shop. He was right there! The policeman must have guessed her thoughts and laughed softly. “I would not try anything stupid, if I were you. It’s pay time now.”

The hand that was holding the knife travelled down her side, and she could feel him grind into her from behind, but she could not move anywhere, and was helpless against anything he would have liked to do. “You were quite the lay, little whore. Such a fine pussy. Such a tight ass.” She felt the tip of his tongue trail her ear and whimpered. “And what a wonderful coincidence that we ran into each other here, bitch. It saves me a lot of trouble.” Without any warning, his fingers dug into her ribs roughly, and she had to bite her tongue not to scream out in pain.

“Don’t you worry, whore. All I want to do is offer you a little deal, and I think that I am really being quite generous here.” Her heart raced, and she had trouble concentrating on his words. “I will make it simple so even you will understand: since you have a chance to become Cherylenko’s bitch, you will help us get that bastard behind bars. He’s become quite a nuisance to...certain people in high places. You will be our spy in their midst, Elena – aren’t you excited?”

The fucking irony forced frustrated tears from her eyes. After everything that Cherylenko had just revealed to her, after the very short moment of real intimacy they had shared, this asshole cop asked her to become a rat in his organization. She slowly shook her head. “That would be suicidal”, she whispered. “He’ll find out immediately and he’ll kill me. He trusts no one.”

“Now, now. A little more confidence, please.” He caressed her cheek again, and his voice was dripping with sarcasm. “Because you see, Elena, my philosophy is quite simple: Most people can reach unsuspected heights with the right motivation. And I know that you will be a perfect little snitch for us because you would not want your little sister or your mother to have an accident. Grozny is such an unsafe place these days.” Elena felt a surge of anger rise in her. “You pig. Don’t you dare touch my family...!” He snickered. “Big words whore. I’ll take this as a ‘yes’ then. We’ll be in touch.”

Then he was gone, as suddenly as he had appeared, probably to join his fucking wife outside and help her pick out a pair of panties. Elena leaned against the wall, unable to stand up by herself. No. Life just could not be that fucking cruel. When she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she realized that she could not face Ivan, leave alone Alexander Cherylenko like this. With trembling fingers, she rummaged through her purse to look for her powder and her mascara to fix her make-up. While she reapplied a touch of dark red lipstick, her thoughts were racing. Nothing was lost yet, there must be something that could be done. One of Russia’s most powerful crime bosses had taken her under his wings; maybe she could simply ask him to help her? The cop’s words still rang in her ears. They must have been watching her, how else...? She felt her heart cramp up in terror at the thought of something happening to her mother or sister.

Think, Elena. Think.

When she finally stepped out of the store, bags filled with beautiful lingerie, silken stockings and even a pair of slender black gloves for good measure, she managed a tired smile for Ivan. He flicked his cigarette to the ground, and looked at her quizzically. “You look like you’ve had enough shopping for one day. Let’s move.”

With a silent nod, she let herself fall onto the backseat and took a deep breath. Don’t let anybody suspect anything, Elena. Just act like you always do. Ivan adjusted his rear view mirror and grinned. “It’s time for the real party. I hope you are ready!” With that, they were off to the Sanctuary.

 

[Jokas_Wild]

Sanctuary was Alexander's pride and joy, a trendy beautiful & posh nightclub in downtown Moscow that doubled as his primary base of operations. Sanctuary functioned on the same basis that every other successful mafiya business did, a legitimate front made it easier to launder money from other aspects of the organization. But instead of being a simple bar or some other bland business, Alex instead went grand and decided to make a name for himself in the legit world. Since opening it's doors 3 years ago, Sanctuary had become one of the premire night spots to be seen at for young Moscovians and Russian celebrities alike.

Sanctuary had started it's life as a converted warehouse like so many buildings during the club district revival that swept Moscow several years back. Alexander had seen the potential and took the gamble, buying the property and then hiring out a highly respected club promoter in Alexi Zerano. Alexi was in charge of the day to day business of the club itself and knew full well of his business partners job but was paid well enough to turn a blind eye. Alexi had set about turning the club a sort of Euro Chic meets Victorian era design wonderland. Rich red velvet drapes adorned the walls and columns, a massive dance floor with a DJ stage, a VIP section decorated with old high back throne style chairs and couches, a bar running along the whole left side wall. It was everything you could want in a nightclub, it made you look important if you were there and want to spend money on over-priced alcohol all the while grinding on a member of the opposite sex.

The reason Alex liked Sanctuary so much though was that the basement was all his to conduct business. It had been specially sound proofed upon purchasing, not that you could really hear anything over the booming music from the club above, but it was still better to be safe then sorry. This was where all Alex liked to keep the ugly side of his job, safely in one location so that the mess didn't spill onto other parts of his life. Tonight was no different, the upstairs was packed with club kids and the basement was currently home to 2 men though one would not be walking out.

Ivan eased the mustang to a stop in front of Sanctuary and in the blink of an eye a valet was at the door, opening it for Elena. Ivan turned around and smiled at her, Elena was definetly a looker which explained why the boss was so smitten with her. "Don't worry about your bags, Alex already told me to run them back to the loft after dropping you off here. You look sexy Elena, just don't tell Alex I told you that. Just walk to the door and tell the bouncer your name, he will escort you to Alex's private table." Ivan gave her a wink and small chuckle, watching her slide out of the car and the valet shut the door behind her.

Within moments Elena was being led through the throngs of people towards Alex's table in the VIP, the bass of the music vibrating to one's core. Alex smiled and stood upon seeing Elena, eyes slowly drinking in the vision of feminine grace before him. He gave a playful wolf whistle and made a little twirling motion with his finger, enjoying every second as she twirled gingerly to give him a complete view. "You look stunning Elena, they highlighted your natural beauty perfectly! You just look...." The sentence was never to be finished because it melted into a kiss, long and slow and spoke of a deep need that lay within Alex. Unlike the first kiss, this kiss was lingering and held whispers of future sweaty & passionate embraces that finished with Alex nipping Elena's bottom lip ever so slightly. His grin was that of a triumphant hunter having captured his prey and he licked his own lips to savor her flavor for another moment. "As delicious as that was and as stunning as you look, it's time to conduct business my dear. Follow me please Elena, we have much to do before we can fully enjoy this night together and it seems there is alot we can enjoy together."

Alex led her out of the VIP and off to a door towards the back marked only with a simple Employee Only sign that opened onto a flight of stairs heading down. At the bottom of the steps the pair was greeted with a scene that Alex had seen a thousand times but would probably be a shock to Elena. It was a pair of men, one duct taped into one of the high back chairs from the club, his arms and legs strapped down tight with a rag shoved in his mouth. Standing over him with an amused smirk was Dean Malinko, Alex's trusted Lt and all around psychopath.

"Dean my boy, how's our guest of honor?" The two men exchanged a friendly hug before Dean's gaze shifted to Elena. "Drakko there? Never been more comfortable or relaxed in his life. Who's the girl Alex and what is she doing down here?" Dean's face was a mixture of annoyance and confusion at the woman next to Alex, pretty as she may be this place was no business of hers.

"Her name is Elena and she's my newest project Dean. Be nice to her, I like her and I think she has alot of potential. Now get me the hammer and we will play 20 questions later, fair enough?" Alex then shifted his attention back to Elena who looked saucer eyed at the mention of a hammer. "This guy here is Drakko Militich and he was Zaky's boss there for the Federovs. Today is an oppurtunity for you get a small measure of revenge and I get to send the Federovs and everyone else a nice message about not fucking with me."

In that moment, Dean handed Alex a heavy looking framing hammer which in turn Alex showed off to Drakko whose eyes bulged. "You know what Zamochit is Drakko? It's when we break every bone in your body and then leave your corpse in public, it's a very old and effective tradition. Highly effective indeed!" The hammer came crashing down with lightening speed, easily shattering the left wrist that was taped in place to the chair. His screams were muffeled by the rag but tears still welled in his eyes, the pain obvious splashed across his face. "Too bad Drakko, knowing Zaky just didn't work out for you. Hell, being Federov dog shit is really to blame also but mostly Zaky right now!" Another swing, this time the right wrist shattered by the blow and Alex only grinned. "Don't pass out on me yet Drakko, we're just starting! Thankfully for us Dean has smelling salts to keep you going so it's not even like you have a choice!"

"Elena, come take a swing at Drakko here, it's like a sort of home run derby. Just cock back and swing as hard as you can, take out a lifetime of anger on this peice of shit! I recommend the knees myself since it's needs to be done and has a real satisfying feel to it also." Alex held out the hammer to her as though it were a twisted christmas gift, a chance to break her old life and those memories. "Stop shaking Elena, this is part of the job. Now please fucking hit him before I reconsider all the effort and investment I just made!"

The whole while Dean watched the interaction between Alex and this woman, stewing inside about it. Zamochit had been a sort of with Alex and him, who could hurt the guy worse before he died of his injuries. Who was this no name slut to take his spot like that? Dean bit his tounge about all this and simply stood back, scowling at the pair and wondering what the fuck had happened to change the dynamic so radically.

 

[Sweet_Denna]

During the whole silent car ride to the Sanctuary, Elena pondered the possibility of going straight to Cherylenko, and to tell him what had happened in the changing room of that lingerie boutique. And why not? He was the head of a powerful crime syndicate; he had the necessary resources to deal with problems like these. So why the fuck not? Because she was afraid that if she revealed what she had heard, something would happen to her family in Chechnya. Because the police would know. They always knew.

In the back of her head, a nagging little voice told her not to. What, that voice said, if he does not believe you? What if this whole thing will explode in your face? You stupid little bitch, only because he buys you a few nice things – all of them solely designed to yank up your price as his whore – and because he shares a second of weakness with you, you think that you are close enough to him to admit possible treachery? To Alexander Cherylenko? You must be fucking mad!

Her thoughts were interrupted by their arrival at the club. Of course she had heard the name of Sanctuary a hundred times before, and on a few occasions, she had even walked past it imagining that she was one of the expensively dressed guests queuing in front of the door, hanging on the arm of a handsome, rich man. Now that her life had turned into this twisted Cinderella tale, she had trouble to rejoice about the prospect of being able to do exactly what she had longed for in her day dreams. She felt mentally exhausted; her racing thoughts were unable to keep up with the reality around her, a reality that unfolded at a mad, breakneck pace.

She smiled absent-mindedly at Ivan, and nodded at his instructions. Maybe she could confide in him? He seemed kind, no? The voice in her head chuckled. Yes, a nice and beautiful man and a killer like all the rest of them. Go confide in him, my dear. With a sigh, she got out of the car.

Shyly, she walked up to the bouncer at the door, past a crowd of people waiting to be let in. The man treated her with such submissive respect that she stalled and stared at him in awe, a gesture he misunderstood as dissatisfaction and caused him to squirm even more. Elena was used to being shooed away, to being chased and kicked around, and this kind of treatment was utterly foreign to her. When they finally entered the warehouse turned high-end nightclub, she was swallowed by the music, the lights, and the adrenaline-laden atmosphere inside.

Walking over to the VIP tables, she realized how nervous she really was. Could she face him now? Would he not immediately know that something had happened? Elena sorely underestimated the effect her new look would have on the crime boss, and any man, or woman for that matter, who was not blind. Heads turned when she walked by, but she did not notice any of this. Her anxiety kept her thoughts from straying too far from the incident in the changing room, and the request that asshole cop had made. You will be our spy in their midst. Nervously, Elena touched her neck, as if she had felt the faint brush of his whisper against her naked skin. Then they reached Alexander Cherylenko’s table and she forced to concentrate on appearing as casual as she could possible muster.

Not sure if she was really happy to see him, his reaction when his eye caught sight of her did cause her to self-consciously smile. There were many beautiful men and women on the tables around them, and Elena was sure that most of the women would have done anything to be in her place at this very moment, but Cherylenko only seemed to have eyes for her. His kiss was hungry and tender, and was ripe with the desire he felt for her. She winced when he caught her lips playful in his teeth, but resisted the urge to pull away from him, knowing that it would have probably pissed him off.

"As delicious as that was and as stunning as you look, it's time to conduct business my dear. Follow me please Elena, we have much to do before we can fully enjoy this night together and it seems there is a lot we can enjoy together." These words caused her heart to skip a beat. Business. What did they have to do that did not involve her being next to him and look pretty? A lap dance maybe? Her hopes were not very high that it was that what he meant. With shaking knees, she followed Cherylenko down to the basement.

Elena was utterly unprepared for the sight that awaited her there. She stopped dead in her tracks when her eyes fell on the man who was bound to one of the VIP chairs – would Cherylenko now ask her to shoot him in the head, as his mentor had done with him when he had first joined the organisation? The other man in the room was obviously somebody very close to the crime boss, a good-looking man with a cruel, slightly psychotic smile lingering on his lips. However, as his eyes fell on her, the smile immediately vanished and gave way to a cold stare. Cherylenko did not bother to introduce him to the Chechen girl, but whoever he was, he was clearly unhappy to see her. The two men exchanged a hug and a few words that she did heard but did not consciously process. All she could see was a man who was about to be executed.

There were no lengthy explanations, no doubts were left about what was going to happen. A hammer. Federov. Revenge.

For the first ever since she could remember, she wished for a drink. Something strong enough to wipe the horror of the whole scene into an undistinguishable blur. So this was what the Durbanski boys understood under a “good party”. Elena had to bite her lip not to scream out in horror when the first hammer blow broke the bound man’s wrist. It was however impossible to escape the sound of crushing bones, and Elena could feel her stomach turning, and she pressed the back of her hand against her mouth not to gag. Pale and trembling, she watched as Cherylenko landed another blow, and felt tears well up in her eyes. After everything she had gone through during the past twenty-four hours, her nerves were about to snap. The little voice in her head screeched in insane delight. Still eager to spill your heart out to these men, darling?

Without realizing it, she inched back from Cherylenko, much like the terrified little rabbit she had always been. Was she really surprised to see what this man was capable of? Was she shocked to see how much he enjoyed inflicting pain on his enemies? Why? After all, this was the real face of the man who had picked her up in his car, and the short moments of calm they had shared in his apartment the previous night were nothing but a fleeting weakness he probably already regretted. Still, Elena felt a sting of sadness.

"Elena, come take a swing at Drakko here, it's like a sort of home run derby. Just cock back and swing as hard as you can, take out a lifetime of anger on this piece of shit! I recommend the knees myself since it needs to be done and has a real satisfying feel to it also." His words yanked her out of her trance. What? In shock, she looked at Cherylenko who held the hammer out, motioning for her to take it. Frozen, unable to move, she stared at him in disbelief. Had he already forgotten everything they had talked about the night before?

The hostility of the man across Cherylenko was palpable; he now glared at her with obvious disgust. Elena barely dared to look at him. For the length of one long, insane second, she feared that they already knew, that they knew about her encounter and that all of this was merely the prelude to her own punishment. Cats playing with a mouse before ripping it apart.

"Stop shaking Elena, this is part of the job. Now please fucking hit him before I reconsider all the effort and investment I just made!" She swallowed hard and forced her hand to take the hammer from him. What exactly would he have to reconsider? Not shooting her? Would she be next on that chair if she failed to obey? The girl had to suppress the urge of crying, of begging Cherylenko to spare her the ordeal of torturing another man with a fucking hammer, no matter what a filthy piece of shit that man was. But something in the pejorative look of the other man made her swallow these words, and silently, she stepped forward to face Drakko Militich.

That son of a bitch Zaky, he had deserved what was coming to him. Elena was certain that this man on the chair deserved a hundred times worse. If Cherylenko spoke the truth, he would have been the man behind Zaky’s attempts at running an equally sadistic and unsuccessful prostitution ring; he was also the man who took large chunks of the cash that the girls brought home. Her eyes narrowed, and she frowned.

The hammer lay heavy in her slender hand, and she closed her fingers so tightly around the handle that her knuckles turned white with the effort. This man deserved to get a little taste of the pain that pimps like Zaky – his men - had inflicted on uncounted young women over the years. Elena’s eyes found those of Drakko Militich. His were watering and wide with terror; it was the look of a man who knew he would die. Did she feel a certain satisfaction that for once, she was the one who wielded a tiny piece of power? She did. The bass of the music was muffled down here, and the slightly flickering light of dim neon bulbs threw sharp shadows over all of their faces.

She tried to imagine what would happen if Militich would walk free, and would one day get a chance to take revenge on her for this, would he hesitate even one second? Of course not. But still, she was unable to raise the hammer and hit him. It was one thing to defend oneself against a raging attacker, but another completely to crush the bones of a man who was helpless and scared. With trembling lips, she turned to Cherylenko and whispered: “I am sorry...”

 

[Jokas_Wild]

Dean's grin was a triumphant one, instantly seizeing upon Elena's moment of weakness as an opportunity to reestablish himself at Alexander's number 2. "See Alex, this is why I kept telling you that women should be no more then fuck toys. Petra was one of a kind, a killer at heart regardless of gender, you simply can't just pick some random girl and expect it to work. Especially when she's just some common Chechen street whore." Dean almost spat out the last part of the sentence, his eyes an icy stare as he snatched her hammer from her trembling hand. "This is why I'm your top Lieutenant Alex, I never hesitate to get the job done!" Dean swung the hammer with cruel efficiency, the head slamming down first onto Drakko's tibula, then fibula and finally his patella all in the within seconds. As he swung, Dean's gaze never left Elena's horrified face as he sent his own message to her, one that made it clear to stay the fuck out of his world.

Alex though saw none of this for he was to lost in his own world at that moment as he dually processed both Elena's refusal and Dean's sharp reality check about how their life truly worked. Why had he just assumed that Elena would comply with his request, that she would have no qualms about helping to torture this man set before her? Sure it had at first made perfect sense to Alex, who would not want to take some revenge on a man who had helped turn her life into a hell? While Drakko was no Zaky, Zaky was already quite dead at Alex's hand and what better replacement then the pimps boss instead? That was the way his mind worked, a thought pattern imprinted by Sergei all those years before as a lesson about never letting anyone past you.

"Dean, just kill him. I don't give a shit about tortureing him anymore, it serves no purpose. Just kill and dispose of him, no more discussion." Alex pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes tightly as though he were fighting off the early effects of a migrane. He took a long cleansing breath before finally reopening them and looking first at Elena then over to Dean. "Tomorrow I will meet you at Linka's Steakhouse for lunch and we will finish the rest of this conversation." Alex left it at that and turned his full attention back to Elena, sighing loudly as an expression of his displeasure with her. "We're going upstairs to get a drink before I get any more upset. You failed your first test miserably."

Alex led the way out of the basement with a scowl on his face, his head a running arguement of the pros and cons of Elena. Had he simply been foolish enough to believe that some street walker could indeed equal Petra? Or was Elena somehow Alex's redemption, another attempt to find love and this time it work? What if he had simply gone mad and this was all a psychotic dream, the last 2 days a total work of schizophrenic fiction. These thoughts were drowned out though by the music and Alex knew he didn't want to be at Sanctuary anymore. He turned and leaned close into Elena, speaking into her ear to be heard over the booming music. "I changed my mind, we're going home. I can drink there and we need to talk about this, I suggest you think of a quick way to put me in a better mood for our chat."

They were out of Sanctuary and into his Mercedes within moments, the car gliding through a coal black night that now matched Alex's mood. They rode together in total silence for the first 10 minutes, the only sound was the hum of the engine. When Alex finally spoke, his voice was low but less angry this time, more a confused tone to it. "Am I mad Elena? Am I trying to take my past that almost killed me and make it work in the present in a new form? You yourself jokingly called it Pretty Woman with a gun, maybe you were right. What the fuck was I thinking? Dean must think me mad, I know he's looking out for me but jesus. What the fuck is it about you Elena that makes the rest of my world fall away and go quiet? Why?!"

Alex angerly bit his bottom lip at that moment, what the hell was wrong with him? Elena was property, a high class hooker and his arm candy, why was he getting attached to the thing he intended to fuck and sell? It was moments like this that made Alex wish he hadn't quite smoking and instead fell back into an uncomfortable silence. He had said to much, let his guard down and it was all coming to bite him in the ass like he knew it would, attraction or affection was not a luxury Alex could afford. But it was there in his brain and only growing, his desire for her and what she represented continued to take a deeper seeded root and he knew it. Alex had never wanted to take any woman as badly as he wanted to take Elena in that moment, to enjoy and taste and feel and connect to her. That was the permiating thought lodged in his brain as the car rolled to a stop in front of his loft.

"You have no idea what you do to me Elena, you have no idea." Those soft spoken words escaped into the cold night air as Alex stepped out of the car moments before Elena could hear them, his control was slipping rapidly. The barrier that protected Alex was crumbling because of this beautiful woman and it scared the daylights out of him. Would Elena be yet another beauty that would eventually try to cut out his heart? Life seemed to go that way for Alex, always soaked in blood and regrets until there was nothing left but the pain and the killing.

 

[Sweet_Denna]

While Alex did not say anything, Dean did not let this opportunity simply slip by. Taking the hammer from Elena, he spat out his displeasure with his boss’ newfound toy. At Dean’s remark of her being “just some common Chechen street whore”, she flinched, but said nothing. He was right, after all, and no make-over, no matter how elaborate and costly, was going to change that. That’s all she was, and had this killer known that she was also a snitch, he would have unhesitatingly crushed her skull right then and there. Instead, the poor Federov bastard had to take the violence of his anger. She pressed her hands over her mouth not to scream, and lowered them only when Cherylenko’s blue eyes found her own.

"We're going upstairs to get a drink before I get any more upset. You failed your first test miserably." Elena nodded quietly. She was simply too tired, too horrified and too confused to even reply, let alone argue his point. But what the fuck had he expected? That she would simply turn into the killer he wanted her to become? Indeed his new Petra? He had met him roughly twenty-four hours ago, in which he had subsequently threatened, consoled, spoiled and scolded her, for things that were all out of her control. Like a lamb being led to the slaughterhouse, she walked behind him, up the stairs, through the door and was again swallowed b the waves of loud music and lights.

When they reached their table, Cherylenko leaned in and said in her ear: "I changed my mind, we're going home. I can drink there and we need to talk about this, I suggest you think of a quick way to put me in a better mood for our chat."

Was this a dimly veiled suggestion, an order to…what? To fuck him? How the hell did she know what would make a man happy who had just crushed another man’s wrists with a hammer? Somehow she doubted that a simple blowjob would do the trick. But again, Elena did not say anything, and simply complied, following him out of the club and to the front door, where someone had already parked Alex’ car. Without a word, she slipped into the passenger’s seat, trembling and now positively on the brink of a nervous breakdown. The girl had to clutch her hands tightly in her lap to stop them from shaking violently. “I am sorry”, she muttered again, not even sure if the words had actually come out of her mouth, Cherylenko did not react in any way for her to be certain.

His tension was palpable and hung between them like an electrical current. From under lowered lashes, she glanced over to him; Cherylenko’s inner turmoil was clear and utterly frightening. He remained silent, however, his eyes firmly fixed on the street, his fingers tightly wrapped around the steering wheel. Elena turned her head to look out of the window, quietly watching the night slip by. What had he expected? What did he see in her? Why was he so upset? What else was there to talk about that had not already been said, albeit not voiced? None of these questions darting through her mind were granted an answer. But then, he did speak.

Anxiously, Elena listened to him, not daring to interrupt or even look at him while he went on. Her fingers dug into the soft fabric of her dress, pulling its hem nervously closer to her stocking-clad knees. Was Cherylenko about to lose it? What was it indeed that caused the violent effect that she seemed to have on this man? The Chechen girl wondered if something about her, her face, the shape of her lips, or the velvety black of her eyes, if anything reminded the crime boss of his lost love. Her heart skipped a terrorized beat as she pondered that he had no idea in what ironic and twisted ways history was about to repeat itself.

With a soft groan, she realized that the effect of her medication was wearing off, and that she would need another painkiller soon. No drinks for her tonight, no way to dull the hysterical voice in her head. Cherylenko fell silent again, and Elena’s heart was beating so violently that she had trouble to breathe. The sudden quiet, with the faint humming of the engine all to disturb it, soughed in her ears like a wild stream – did he hear it, too?

As the car came to a stop in front of the building, Elena clutched her seat, unsure if she had better chances to survive if she stayed inside the car, or if the dark parking lot was the wiser choice. Finally, afraid to cause further displeasure, she got out of the car, the sound of her heels echoing through the silence. Had he said something? Elena did not dare and ask him to repeat it, and did it matter? He walked in direction of the entrance, but the girl hesitated.

If she would follow him upstairs, she was lost. Now was the moment she would have to seize if she wanted to wiggle her way out of this and survive. “Mr. Cherylenko!” she cried out, horrified by the sound of her own voice. “Alexander?”

She stood there, looking more vulnerable than ever, and faced him. How she wished that there was a way to tell him that she really was sorry, that she did appreciate the chance he had given her, that it had made her feel good that someone had for once seen potential in her. Elena bit her lips, biting back pending tears angrily. Fucking hell, if ever there was a shitty moment to become sentimental, it was this very one. Fuck all this. Fuck them. All of them. Dangerous business often ended in death and betrayal, they all knew it, and they all used it, and they probably all fucking throve on it. It was none of her concern. She wanted out.

He could not know how afraid she was, and why. If Cherylenko kicked her out, that asshole cop would have no hold on her anymore, and it would not even be her fault. “We both knew that this would be a very bad idea; I am obviously not the woman you want me to be; and I certainly am no Petra.” There was a short silence, and she had to clear her throat. “But your lieutenant is right. I am a whore. I fuck people. I am buyable.” With all the last bit of courage she could muster, she added: “You should stay the fuck away from me.” And without waiting for an answer, she turned around, and started walking.

Perking her ears for the sound of a gun being activated, she walked away from him, slowly crossing the parking lot, impatiently wiping away a stray tear.

 

[Jokas_Wild]

Alex stood there silently for a moment, watching Elena walk away from him and the loft towards the streets. It had taken all of her courage to speak to him like that and it brought out dualing reactions in Alex. A part of him was impressed by her guts in that moment, that was the spark of potential that Alex had initially seen and based his choices on. But the other half of him was pissed off, at both Elena and himself, what the hell had he been thinking? Even more then that though, who was she to tell him to stay away?! Alexander Cherylenko was one of the most powerful & dangerous men in Moscow and here was this former street urchin telling him what to do like she was in charge! His initial instinct, almost a cliche at this point honestly, was to shoot her as she walked away but Alex knew that wasn't how this was to play out.

"Elena, get your ass back over here!" It wasn't a request by any stretch of the imagination and Alex stood there, arms folded across his chest. "I'm not going to hurt you let alone kill you, I try to avoid killing women personally. But your not allowed to simply walk away from me Elena, that's not how this works in our world."

Elena had stopped walking and turned back to face Alex but did nothing to close the distance back towards him. This was fair enough, it was a sort of negotiation and Alex was throughly intent on winning whatever the hell it was to be won here.

"Your not Petra, your not Dean, your not Ivan, christ your like no one else I've ever met before. You are fundamentally good Elena, a pure soul if you will, one who got dealt a shit hand by life. That's why I like you so much, your about the only thing in my small world that's not completely evil." Alex sighed, his breath crystalizing in the frigid air and he once again pinched the bridge of his nose, that migrane was still fighting for a foothold in his head. "Come inside with me, it's freezing out and I just spent a lot of time and money making you beautiful, least a pretty lady can do is spend the rest of the evening with her benefactor."

Elena just stood there and didn't budge an inch, her gaze searching for some sign it was a trap or some other horrible trick. It was in that moment that Alex had a profound realization, something that rather unnerved him since he lived such an organized life that was designed to insulate him from risks. Alex was starting to care about Elena in more then just a property aspect or as a pet project, these were indeed the same stirrings he had felt many a night laying next to Petra in bed. It was that thought that caused his migrane to finally explode, almost like a punishment for his weakness in allowing himself to mix his life with his business.

"Listen, I need a fucking drink incredibly bad and I would bet on the fact that you need another pain killer since you've been out on the town so long. Come inside with me and we will talk like normal people talk, no threats or blackmail or any of that shit. Let us take a step back from all this and just be normal for the rest of the evening, Elena and Alex sharing an evening together like there is no worries in the world."

Alex offered a reassuring smile that quickly turned into a wince, the pressure in his temples now throbbing and his heartbeat palpable behind his eyes. This always happened to Alex when he was in over his head, it was his body's version of throwing the fire alarm to warn him of danger. Sure this was risky, sure allowing himself to care for Elena was an insane idea but it held a certain appeal anyway. One could not go through life completely alone and Alex knew that all to well, even Petra's attempt on his life did not completely tarnish the happy memories they had shared together. Elena was no Petra, she was much more fragile and maybe that's what Alex liked so damn much.

"I'm heading inside now Elena, I'd like for you to join. But ultimately it's your choice of where you sleep tonight, in my loft or out at Kursky Station. I'd really prefer you to stay here though, it was kind of nice to feel a warm body next to me in bed..."

Alex finally turned away from her and headed towards the service elevator, ears perked to hopefully hear the clack of her heels moving towards him rather then away. This was all an insane risk, one that could very well blow up in his face but that was a risk that Alex had decided to take. Though the new concern was how Dean was going to react to his choice, Dean's opinion meant the world to Alex as they were essentially brothers. But that was tomorrow, a concern to be dealt with later for right now Alex's only hope was to have Elena join him back in the loft. What insane road were they going down together, the beautiful Chechen street girl and the deadly Moscovian crime boss....

 

[Sweet_Denna]

“I'm not going to hurt you let alone kill you –. “
Elena scoffed silently. If she had a damn ruble for every time she had heard that line, there would be no need to work for the rest of her life. To be fair, he was probably sincere the second that the words made it out of his mouth, and he might not be aware that he would change his mind once the frail girl was in his grasp. Most men she had met just could not help it.

However, there was something in his tone that forced her to stay and hear him out. A slight edge – not threatening, no; it was rather…pleading? Elena stood there, quite forlorn on the half-empty parking lot, like a figurine who had ventured out of a silent, black and white movie. Summer was drawing to a fast end, and the night frost crawled up her skin. She suddenly wished she had spent Cherylenko’s money on a warm coat and nice boots; on the other hand, her present outfit would probably secure her a night in somebody’s bed.

"Listen, I need a fucking drink incredibly bad and I would bet on the fact that you need another pain killer since you've been out on the town so long. Come inside with me and we will talk like normal people talk, no threats or blackmail or any of that shit. Let us take a step back from all this and just be normal for the rest of the evening, Elena and Alex sharing an evening together like there is no worries in the world."

The Chechen girl clenched her fists, both trying to warm up her stiff fingers and out of nervousness. Nothing indicated that he was lying. Nothing seemed to hint at a trick, or maliciousness on his part. Her heart clenched as she realized how much he longed for her to give him what had been denied to him since he was twenty years old: a normal life. Did she feel a sting of compassion? Maybe. He had no way of knowing that she was the last to give him security and stability; if she would leave now, he would never find out.

Still, she did not budge. It was harder than she had thought to make this easy and most obvious choice. He continued speaking. His previous anger, his disappointment - all of that had vanished from his tone. When he turned to walk up to his apartment, she even made one silent step in his direction before stopping again. Elena, you stupid bitch, walk away now. Walk away and everybody can go on with their shitty lives.

Watching him disappear, his tall figure slightly bent over to avoid the icy breeze; she sighed before turning on her heels. A humorless smile flickered over her lips. “Sorry officer, it has just not worked out between me and Cherylenko. I guess we were not meant to be.” She had whispered the words, and felt a certain relief as they were released in foggy puffs into the cold air. At least her family would be safe now, that fucking cop would lose interest. Cherylenko would find another girl to fuck. Happy end. Her steps accelerated.

When she reached the edge of the parking lot and was about to cross the street, something caught her attention. A lone car. It was nothing fancy, nothing that would draw anybody’s attention. Maybe it was dark blue. Maybe it was black. A man leant against it, his arms crossed in front of his chest, and he was, there was not even the inch of a doubt, looking straight over at her.

Standing in the pale pool of a street lantern, she could only barely see his face, but the shadows accentuated certain details in his features: the crooked, cold smile, one raised eyebrow. A cigarette dangled from his lips, and when he raised one hand to take a deep draw, Elena thought she could see the holster of a gun peeking out from underneath his jacket.

The girl stopped dead in her tracks. Only a few meters separated her from that man, and one hasty glance over her shoulder informed her that Cherylenko had vanished into the entrance of the building. She started to tremble, and it was not the cold this time that sent icy shivers down her spine. Maybe it was that cop from the store, but there was also the possibility that this man was an envoy from the Federov clan. After Cherylenko had taken something – someone – from them, maybe they had come to take something from him in return. Elena knew only too well that in this world, no bills were left unpaid.

For a short moment, her nerves wrecked as they were, she felt a hysterical giggle rise in her throat: she had in fact no idea who this man was; police or mafiya or just some crazy ass creep. During the last few days, the list of people who might want to hurt or even kill her had grown so long that she simply had no idea which one it would be in the end. But – and this she realized with painful clarity – the days of simply hiding behind cardboard boxes in Kursky Station were definitely over. The rabbit had reached a dead end. If the cops kept an eye on their hopeful little snitch, she had no choice but to comply and return to Cherylenko. If it was the Federov clan, she had no choice but to comply and return to Cherylenko. She was weak, and alone, and fucking defenceless.

Her heart raced and she felt panic rising inside. The man on the other side of the six-lane street took one last draw from his cigarette and flicked it carelessly onto the pavement, while his eyes never left her face. Elena did not wait to see if he would cross over to her; turning, trying to walk fast without running, she walked back to the entrance that Cherylenko had taken. Did she hear footsteps behind her? Did they accelerate in unison with hers?

Her mouth formed the words of a silent prayer – but the front door was open and she hastily pushed it open and pressed the button to call the elevator. Cherylenko had been the last one to use it; it would take a few seconds for it to reach her. From where she stood, she could not see the parking lot, and there was no way of knowing if that man was on his way to the door. “Come on, come on, you fucking son of a bitch, come on!” Her eyes were glued to the numbers above the elevator door. One after the other lit up and faded, painfully slowly.

Then it arrived, she stepped inside and hysterically pounded the button to the top floor. Did she hear the front door being opened? Did she not see the tip of a shoe just as the doors closed? She pressed her hands on her mouth to suppress a fearful scream as the elevator silently carried her up to Cherylenko’s loft; the faint scent of his aftershave was still hanging in the air.

Breathless and pale with fear, she reached the door of his loft; it was closed. Her throat ached, and her hurt ankle sent protesting shocks of pain up her leg. She heard the elevator whizzing down to the ground floor, but he might as well be on his way up through the staircase. Or had she just imagined the sounds?

In panic, she hammered against the door to Cherylenko’s apartment; tears streaming down her face. What if he was in the shower? What if he did not hear her? If he had changed his mind and did not let her in?

 

[Jokas_Wild]

It couldn't of been more then 10 minutes between Alex leaving Elena standing in the parking lot and the sudden frantic pounding at his front door. But those 10 minutes seemed like a whole lifetime to Alex, turning away from Elena and once again making his way to the loft alone. Just a hint of her perfume lingered on the collar of his suit coat and it made him frown slightly, yet another reminder of what he wanted so badly yet could not have. From the elevator to the inside of the loft and straight to the bottle of Stoli in the freezer was Alex's path and the intention was some serious drinking. That plan fizzeled out quickly though due to the sudden and incessant banging at his door.

A quick precautionary check through the peephole confirmed it was Elena except she looked terribly distraught. Alex swung the door wide open and before him stood a very shaken & crying mess that had just moments before so boldly stood up to him. He simply ushered her inside without a word and peered down the hallway after she entered, not a sound disturbing the still air within. What the hell had frightened her so badly?

With Elena safely inside and the door locked behind her, Alex turned his full attention back to her and the sudden need for answers. "What the fuck happened to you?" His words were both harsh and concerned, part of the internal battle that raged on about how he should feel about her. "You seemed like you had made the choice to tell me to fuck off by not following me to the elevator at first. Kursky Station already full for the night? Or maybe no customer would pick you up to give you a ride?"

Alex's anger was from wounded pride and not hate for Elena, more like a lost soul lashing out at what was supposed to be his guide & savior. "I shouldn't even give a shit really, you shouldn't be anything more then a simple peice of property to me. The makeover should of been to raise your street value, the clothes and haircut and lingere just window dressing for your true purpose. But no, what do I do? I decide that I'm going to try and create my own Petra and substitue you into the lead role! I must of lost my fucking mind apparently!"

During the whole tirade which saw Alex pouring himself another large glass of Stoli, Elena never moved from standing a few feet inside the door. Alex knew it was her fight or flight response and staying close to the door would allow a hasty exit if she felt that he would tip over the proverbial ledge. Alex slowed himself down to prevent that reaction and swallowed the drink, this time wincing from the burn of the alcohol instead of the pain throbbing in his head.

Alex took a deep breath and then burst into a laughter that at first obviously starteled Elena. After a few moments Alex regained his composure and decided to explain himself instead of having the poor girl think him mad. "I couldn't help but laugh at the irony of how on back to back evenings we ended up here with you looking distressed and I'm left wondering what the fuck I'm doing. History has a funny way of repeating itself like that."

Alex shook his head at the irony and poured one more glass, his speech starting to become a little slower and thicker as the vodka starting catching up with him. "Ok, I'm done with the yelling and berrating Elena. Promise. What the hell happened to you to bring you crying to my front door? Don't tell me some bullshit about a sudden change of heart either, you seemed intent on walking away a few minutes ago." Alex took a moment and turned his attention away from her, grabbing a water bottle from his fridge and setting in on the counter that seperated the two. "Take you pain pill and be honest Elena, truly honest with me. I'm not the monster you think I am, I'm just a little bit crazy due to my job. Who better to connect to then someone as damaged as yourself?"

The sentence hung heavy in the air as Alex just watched her, not sure if this last ditch effort for an honest connection would work. But it was worth a shot and it was really what he wanted, to allow himself a moment of happiness with someone else. Some form of normal even if it was a fleeting one, a moment of just being a man and a woman together.

 

[Sweet_Denna]

When Cherylenko opened the front door, Elena darted inside, only to stop dead in the middle of her dramatic entrance, unsure if she could actually dare to move further into his apartment and thus further away from the door, which for some absurd reason still gave her a weird feeling of safety. She panted, and sobbed, and felt a sudden rush of gratitude for him to have heard her at all.

His sharp cynicism did not affect her this time, hell, she barely heard anything he said. Her shoulders rose and fell with the silent sobs that shook her small body. Her ears perked for nearing steps in the hallway, she felt very much like just breaking down completely and throwing herself in his arms. It was funny – she was actually happy to see him, was happy to hear his voice. He did not know it, but he had probably just saved her life again. It even crossed her mind to lean in and kiss him. Fucking lunacy. His next question snapped her out of her reverie.

“-What the hell happened to you to bring you crying to my front door? Don't tell me some bullshit about a sudden change of heart either; you seemed intent on walking away a few minutes ago."

Elena nodded. “I was intent on walking away a few minutes ago.” Her voice sounded weak, but sincere. “I wanted out of this whole fucking mess. It’s just not for me.”

“-Who better to connect to then someone as damaged as yourself?" She threw him a silent glance. True. And worse, who else did she even have to connect with? To talk to? Fucking nobody. She had already opened her mouth to say that some creep had followed her, that she had been afraid he was going to hurt her, and that that someone was just as likely a member of her new-found allies, the Moscow Police Department as it could have been someone the Federovs had sent.

Realizing the full implications of such a confession, the sentence stuck to her tongue without actually passing her lips and she looked at him, for a second literally lost for words. Because – what would happen if he went to go after her phantom pursuer? Taken the case he actually was a cop, and if he killed him, the police would know who had alerted the crime boss. If he did not kill him and he got away, however unscathed, the police would know who had alerted the crime boss. It seemed that her life was suddenly a chain of hilarious, inescapable dead ends.

Elena silently tried to assess how likely it was that Cherylenko would go after a random guy who he thought had made an attempt on his property, which would then, through dead end number three, lead to the same dangerous result as the previous two. She decided that it was not worth the risk and better to tone down the truth to a more blurry tale of what had actually happened.

Between sobs, she pieced together a confused chain of events, that could have sprung from the mind of a young woman whose nerves were about to snap. She did however avoid his questioning glance; the lie was too serious for her not to feel like a deceiving bitch. “When I tried to cross the street, some guys in a car drove by me and slowed down, shouted some obscenities at me.” She wiped her eyes with the back of hand, which, without her knowing it, gave her the appearance of a sad panda. “The usual, this has happened to me so many times, I don’t know why it had this effect on me.” Trying to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, she continued. “Whatever, I felt threatened by it. I guess it made me realize that I don’t even have a fucking choice anymore, that the second I got in your car last night, the decision was made. Hell, it had been made the moment I cut that cop’s throat.”

With a slight feeling of shock she realized how comparatively well she had kept her voice steady. Would he detect the lie in it? And why was she this calm? Or was she? Was Cherylenko right in the end, and was she made for this, for his, world? “I cannot stay this defenceless, Alexander. I need you more than I had hoped I would.”

A sudden nausea threw her off this train of thought. Without awaiting an answer, she scuffled past him and into the bedroom and his bathroom. There, finally, she breathed out, in a long, deep exhale. Fuck. What the hell had she just done?

He was right. The repetition they seemed to be caught in was disturbing. Again, she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, with both of her hands on the counter. Again she wondered how the fuck her life had become this relentless sequence of horror, of threats and of desperate lies. One thing was crystal clear, however: This time she had consciously deceived him, she had kept something from him that now made her the spy that cop had spoken of. Images of Zaky, of Militch, of the things he had told her about Petra flashed through her mind. She had now officially chosen their side over his.

Why did this bother her, and beside the fact that he would do terrible things to her if he found out? In the mirror, she looked into her own black eyes with suspicion. All of them were assholes, killers, people who used and discarded people like herself. All of them were power junkies, ready to climb to the top over corpses. And yet – Cherylenko was the only asshole in this mix that had shown, and repeatedly shown, an interest in her. For some fucked up reason, he seemed to see a sort of soul mate in her, however hilarious this was for people like them. She frowned. Because that makes you the asshole now, doesn’t it, bitch? It makes you the perpetrator, and him the victim. Are you upset because Cherylenko now takes on a role you’re used to playing?

Elena was not sure if he had even bought her story, if he had not already seen through her amateurish little game. Would he be standing there with the gun at the ready when she walked back into the room? And if he did, would she still be able to keep up the ante?

The dark-haired girl stared at the disturbed beauty in the mirror. Fuck this. With a few routine gestures, she washed her face and fixed her make-up. Luckily, Ivan had left all her things in the bedroom and she found the lipstick she had bought in one of the countless boutiques they had entered; then, her world had seemed innocent and careless compared to now.

The only chance of preventing Cherylenko from asking too many questions she was not prepared for was to distract him, and one way to distract him was one of the few things she was actually good at. After a few seconds of thought, she slipped out of her dress; there was no use in being too subtle. Elena looked at her slender form, the slightly honey-coloured skin, the delicate black silk and lace that hugged her breasts and her hips, the silken stockings that deliciously accentuated her legs. No, no use in being too subtle. “I still haven’t thanked you properly yet”, she whispered at her image, her voice low and seductive. Good. Taking a deep breath and mouthing a brief prayer, she left the bathroom and walked out of the bedroom to join her benefactor.

 

[Jokas_Wild]

"Hell, it had been made the moment I cut that cop’s throat.”

That one sentence was what replayed over and over in Alex's head after Elena had suddenly exited to his bathroom. The thought turned over and over in his brain, like a ball in a bingo tumbler, an interesting insight at what Elena could be pushed to do if required. A thought like that once again sparked a dark glimmer of hope that Elena could indeed be a gangster like him, a valkyrie as dangerous as him standing by his side. Was it insanity? Most likely. But even those whose path meandered through the depths of hell deserved a dream.

Elena was essentially becoming a sort of cosmic force in Alex's life, an unstoppable energy that had turned his world upside down and given it a violent shake. Those walls Alex had built, those that kept him aloof and away from processing the horrors, they crumbled like sand castles in the tide with this girl. The vow of self-preservation, to treat women like sexual objects and simply discard them, was not working at all. This sort of softness, the need to feel connected was what had allowed Petra to almost kill him a few years back and could not be allowed to happen again. But Elena, the beautiful chechen street girl with no last name, had blown Alex's plan to shit. Why was it that the women you were supposed to stay away from always had the strongest pull?

"Fucking women..." The sentence directed to no one in particular, simply muttered at the empty glass in front of Alex.

The vodka was now taking hold of Alex, dulling the migrane to a mere unpleasentness and taking most of the tension with it. Here Alex stood, Moscow boss of the fucking Durbanski Syndicate, a man who had left a river of blood in his climb to the top and he was now debating the merits of falling for Elena. What kind of shit was this?!

The next thought was of Dean and already feeling the weight of his disappointment on his soul. Dean was the one who had taken over operations while Alex recovered from Petra's attack, dutifully checking in every evening and giving him the rundown of the days events. Money that was collected, people that had died (both positive and negative), ensuring that Alex's care was top notch. Dean truly was the brother that Alex never had and vice versa, bonded by the rivers of blood they had spilled together and then laughed about over drinks and strippers. But this was much different, Dean always reminding Alex that a real relationship was a luxury that they couldn't afford and it was simply a stupid risk. So what did Alex do? The complete and utter fuckin opposite, rescuing Elena because of his instant attraction to her. Elena wasn't a simple whore to Alex or even the assassin he dreamt of, she instead embodied a sort of redemption that Alex had subconciously been looking for.

All those thoughts though came to a screeching halt when Elena stepped out of his bedroom wearing just a bit less then before. Alex's vision slowly devoured the sight before him, commiting it to memory as though it were a favorite selection of long time lovers. His initial attempt at speech was a total failure. The only sound that managed to get past his lips was half of a wow but it died when he closed his mouth to prevent himself from going slack jawed.

He watched in quiet fascination as she slinked towards the couch, moving with confindence in her sexuality accented by a playful sway of her hips. Elena's movements were graceful and almost cat like, suddenly Alex felt like the prey being stalked by some sensual predator. Elena eased herself onto the couch and leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows with stocking clad legs bent at the knee and crossed playfully. It was in that moment that Alex couldn't help but grin like a shy little boy and drop his gaze, feeling both awed and helpless by her raw sexuality.

Elena spoke first this time, her voice low and throaty, playing to all her strengths that she knew all to well brought men to their knees. "See anything you like Alex?" Her tone was playful and inviting, those simple words offering an untold world of pleasure to be enjoyed.

Alex took a deep breath to compose himself, his mind running rampant with lustful thoughts of how good a night with her would be. But there were 2 problems that stopped Alex from attacking her like a rabid animal and he finally found his voice to express them. "You look beyond stunning Elena. You look better then even what I had fantasied about yesterday, it's breath taking. Every part of me is screaming to just take you to my bedroom and fuck till dawn, till neither of us can move even a finger we're so spent. God knows I want it. But there are 2 very important things I need to cover before that primal side of my brain is so strong I am only thinking with my dick."

Elena arched a brow slightly at his statement but remained quiet, curious as to where this was all going. Alex continued on with the thought all though his eyes betrayed him by roving over her form, head to toe over and over and over again.

"First off, I heard your comment yesterday." Alex smiled at her confused look, reassuring that it was nothing bad. "I do have handcuffs in my bedroom. Lots of shit like that. I like my sex hard, fast, aggressive and rough; it's essentially my life in fuck form. So trust me when I say if we fuck, your going to be used and abused to a certain extent though I've had no complaints from previous partners."

His grin was cocky but honest, Alex was never persay dangerous with his sex but it was still highly aggressive and might scare the less adventerous types of the world.

"Secondly, as good as you look and as bad as I want it, I don't want you fucking me as some sort of bribe. Believe it or not Elena your more then just some slut to me, your much more then the labels that the world has affixed on you. You may be my slut one day but thats different, that's personal and not business. Fucking me is a sort of commitment Elena, it means no more bullshit and running away and these stupid fucking games. I realized that I wake up everyday and I may very well die instead of my head hitting the pillow at night, I've made peace with that fact. But I no longer desire to walk through my life wondering what it would be like to have someone with me again, to keep myself insulated against another possible Petra. I stand here and offer you a life, one filled with dangerous choices and bloody trails but a better life none the less. If you fuck me Elena, you've signed yourself up to follow me down this path to Hell that I seem to be on. But I make you this promise, you and everyone you care for will be protected as much as I can humanly provide. It's an ugly and dark world I live in but it still seems better then the life I plucked you from. The choice is yours my lovely, make sure you can live with whatever it is..."

Alex left it at that, surprising even himself that he could lay it all on the line like that in a brutal moment of complete honesty. A few moments passed by in silence and Alex walked towards his bedroom, wondering if the risk had truly been worth the potential reward. To distract himself from the hope that swelled in his heart that Elena would join him, Alex flipped on small cd player in his bedroom and pushed play on his favorite album. Colma by Buckethead, a quirky but extremely talented American guitarist, had made an all instrumental album that Alex found both beautiful and peaceful. The soft melodies cut the silent night and Alex kept his back to the door, not allowing himself to look back and know for sure if Elena followed or stayed put on his couch...

 

[Sweet_Denna]

Despite her wrecked nerves, her throat-tightening fear and her exhaustion, Elena enjoyed the effect her entrance so obviously had on Alexander Cherylenko. The role of the whore was the one part she was comparatively good at playing, and it filled her with a certain sense of pride to be able to impress a man who was used to fucking only the most beautiful women in Moscow.

Nevertheless, no matter how seductive she might look in his eyes, displayed like this on his sofa, she was scared shitless. In her experience, men that stared at a couple of nice tits and that enjoyed the immediate pleasant anticipation of a good fuck usually were not very perceptive; otherwise Cherylenko would maybe have noticed her fear. Instead, he turned into a saucer-eyed, speechless teenage boy, who eventually did find his voice again.

Her nervousness grew when he stated that he would not just take what was offered so freely to him. Now, that was unusual, and worrisome. Elena’s concern was not the least slaked when he explained why he did not give in to his instincts right away.

"I do have handcuffs in my bedroom. Lots of shit like that. I like my sex hard, fast, aggressive and rough; it's essentially my life in fuck form. So trust me when I say if we fuck, you’re going to be used and abused to a certain extent though I've had no complaints from previous partners."

Elena was not exactly surprised at that statement; why would a man with such hunger for power and violence be any different in bed? And hell, a couple of handcuffs had never scared her away – for Elena, ropes and wax, whips and sometimes even blades were simple work tools. She did not mind a rough fuck, sometimes she could even enjoy it, and a certain extent of abuse was what she was used to anyway. Maybe that was one of the reason it had upset Zaky so much when she had snapped and run away; not many girls were ready to take as much shit from a customer as Elena was. This had attracted quite a few freaks, and over time, she had managed to develop a certain immunity to their extravagant fantasies.

But that had been before that asshole cop had gotten his hands on her. Before they had gotten their hands on her. After that, she had not worked again. Since then, the prospect of handcuffs did not quite have the same ring to it anymore. How sad that it was now that she realized that. How very fucking sad. Feigning indifference, she nodded silently at his words, trying to keep the sudden flashback of images out of her mind; but she had to put her hands on her knees to keep them from trembling.

His next statement did not help to appease her. What was it that he really wanted from her? Fucking hell, here she was, a beautiful and willing young woman, teasing him into a quick romp with no strings attached, and he had second thoughts?

“…Fucking me is a sort of commitment Elena, it means no more bullshit and running away and these stupid fucking games.” She almost laughed out loud at the sheer irony of this statement. Cherylenko had no idea in how many ways he was already getting fucked over. ”…The choice is yours my lovely, make sure you can live with whatever it is..." The Chechen girl bit her lip. Her heart ached at the thought of what he offered her, and of what she would take from him if she found no way out of this hell. She also did not fail t notice the threatening double entendre in his words. It was a good question: Would she be able to live with her choice?

And what was going on here anyway? That Alexander fucking Cherylenko felt the need to warn her of handcuffs; that he wanted commitment before agreeing to sex! How much more fucked up could all of this become? Apparently, there was no end to it; this whole nightmare had infinite potential to screw with her mind and drive her over the edge into insanity. The other thought that crept into her mind made her blood run cold: this was the third time since she had met the cop in the lingerie shop that he asked her for honesty and truth. It seemed one time too many. The poor girl started to wonder if it was her third and last chance before the crime boss would finally lose patience and confront her with the fact that he knew, before putting a bullet in her head.

The thought of handcuffs had just lost even more of its appeal.

He left her sitting there, obviously decided to go through with his self-mortification; he would not even so much as touch her should she not agree to his terms. For a few moments, Elena closed her eyes and leant back against the sofa, so utterly helpless and tired that she was tempted to simply curl into a ball and go to sleep right there.

From the bedroom, the sound of soft music drifted through the loft. What should she do? His willingness to protect her and her family seemed so obvious, and yet she simply could not trust a man like him with their safety. Elena had learned firsthand what people were capable of, what men were capable of, and that only morons believed in the prevalence of something better.

She wondered if the guy from the car was watching the loft from below; and what if the apartment was bugged even now? Paranoia had clung to every fiber of her body like an oily film; she could not shake it off. Elena felt that whatever decision she would take, it would be the wrong one. So why not treat herself to an amazing fuck on her way down? With shaking knees, she got up and walked over to his bedroom door, leaning silently against the frame. It was clear to her that by doing so, she had just lied to him for the third time. Would it be the last?

Elena hoped was that she could maintain her professionalism; that she would not crack and break down; if after everything that happened she failed him as a whore as well, the spell he seemed to be under would surely be broken.