A Beauty So Cursed by Beena Khan

Chapter 5

Miran Demir was here, and he was talking to me.

His clear, poetic voice—a soothing tunic I could listen to.

I recognized it.

I couldn’t believe it.

Was I daydreaming?

I dug my nails into my palm and squeezed until pain exploded on my skin. No, I wasn’t dreaming. He was here. And I was wide awake.

I had prayed hard and long last night, hoping for a miracle, that somehow this nightmare of marriage wouldn’t happen. I pinched at my skin to wake myself up, but the voices continued around me. I was still startled at what just occurred in the past five minutes. He was planning on stopping the wedding. Wasn’t he afraid? I bit down on my lip as I contemplated my response. I was still thinking when he spoke again.

“Do you want him?” he demanded.

His deep, accented voice rustled through me, jarring through my insides. I inhaled as his cedar scent hit me again, and the smell flooded me. I wanted to keep breathing it in. It was different from Sasha’s repulsive, overpowering scent. This man smelled nice, and it was… attractive. I tried to imprint him into my memory.

My senses heightened when his foot began tapping against the wooden floor. He was losing patience, but I was afraid of the consequences my answer would lead to.

It could cause chaos.

I would end defying my Papa, my brothers, and… Sasha.

I didn’t want this marriage at all.

Feeling brave that this was my chance at an out, that he was here for me, I answered after taking a deep breath, “I don’t.”

My voice came out smaller, and I wished I sounded more confident as I spoke.

He breathed a sigh of relief, and I returned my gaze to the ground.

“Why do you keep staring at the floor?” he questioned.

I glanced up in his voice’s direction, taken aback, and of course, my aim was probably off as always.

Didn’t he know?

“Come with me.”

His voice was low, and he spoke in a whisper. It was more of a demand than a request though, but it still made my pulse quicken, and my heartbeat raced faster than ever. My throat ran dry, and my hands were clammy. Perspiration slid down the back of my neck as I tried to clear my chaotic mind and tried to focus.

“Take my hand.”

I should have asked him, ‘where is it’ but my voice had left my body. I could only nod, dumbfounded. After a few hesitant seconds, I lifted my hand nervously and offered him my hand, even though I didn’t know where he stood.

“Where are you reaching? You blind?” he snapped.

I cowered back as hurt flashed through my soul. He didn’t sound nice anymore. I blinked back tears before he could see and looked away.

“Y… yes. I am.”

Damn me for stuttering.

He didn’t speak. At all.

His breath came out heavier than before. Why had he taunted me for my blindness? Unless he didn’t… know? Surely, he must have known. The Bratva Brotherhood was aware, and I’d assumed his family had informed him too.

A million questions filled my head as my blank eyes searched through the darkness for him. I wasn’t kidding when I had said I lived my life in the dark. Whether my eyes were open or closed, it was the same feeling to me.

I stared at the ground often since I couldn’t meet anyone’s gaze either way. I didn’t have the confidence to try, for fear, that I would embarrass myself. I preferred not to wear black glasses. It was easier to pretend that I wasn’t blind than to face reality sometimes.

“You are kidding,” he muttered in a low voice.

I took a deep breath as my heart hammered in my chest.

“I am not. I said I am—”

“I heard you the first time,” he cut me off.

I remained silent. I didn’t know what was going on now. Sasha was arguing with someone. I had no clue who until I heard the word, “DEA agent.”

Had Miran come alone or were there others with him?

“Were you born this way?” he asked, interrupting my thoughts.

I let out a shaky breath as I tried to stay calm. “I thought you might have known.” When he didn’t respond, I answered, “And no, I was born like… you.” I bit my bitter tongue because I sounded too accusing to my ears. It wasn’t his fault. I finished saying, “It was the accident that left me disfigured and blind.”

I’m cursed.

Papa’s harsh cruel words were still ingrained in my mind. I was lost in my thoughts when a large, cool hand wiped under my eye. Probably to wipe the dark smudge I was probably sporting from being teary-eyed. The touch was different.

Miran.

“Let’s go, Kiska,” he murmured and grabbed my outstretched, trembling hand.

My lip lifted in a tiny smile at the little nickname. Well, he’d called me a kitten in Russian, but it was kind of cute. My stomach fluttered, regardless. His large hand was warm, and his palm was rough against my skin. In three quick steps, I ended up hitting his chest. I broke the fall by placing my hand on his body.

I was touching him.

His welcoming scent hit me full force now.

I lifted my head and stood up straight. I could feel his body pulsating, and I wanted to trace the tips of my fingers on his hard, muscled body. I shrugged off my thoughts, even though my body burned me every time it flushed. I hoped my skin didn’t flame. That would be embarrassing.

“I’m not letting you take Lada! Her father promised her to me,” Sasha yelled.

He wouldn’t let me leave ever.

A sinking feeling filled my chest, and I pulled back to move away from Miran. He didn’t let go of his hand on my wrist.

“Alexander,” Sasha gritted out.

I assumed Sasha was being careful not to reveal Alexander’s identity to Miran as he didn’t use the word Pakhan. It almost made me scoff because the agent knew already.

“Miran,” a masculine voice came from a distance.

Pakhan.

“You should leave, ment,” a croaky voice called out. Police agent.

It was Sir Alexei.

Of course, they were playing pretense.

Miran’s identity was still a secret.

“I’m going to kill this fucker!” Sasha barked in the background.

Shouts filled the room. The voices were getting too loud, all dominating over one another to be heard. Russian curse words dropped in the atmosphere.

Voices. Too many loud voices.

My chest squeezed too tightly at the sensation going through my body. I heard clicking sounds nearby, maybe guns. Were they going to shoot us? Afraid, I crawled back into Miran’s chest. Stunned, I stood there pressed against him, and a warm arm wrapped around my small back. I must have been out of my mind because I thought of how warm and safe I was. He was a powerful man, and I felt protected under his arms.

His heartbeat thumped steadily as I pressed my ear hard against his chest. The heat of his warm skin. The way his hand gripped my waist, refusing to let me go. That cedar scent of him. It was intoxicating.

And I was clearly mad.

He was a stranger.

I shouldn’t feel this way.

“No,” Pakhan’s voice boomed in the air.

Voices surrounding me hushed at once, and a dreadful silence filled the air as if everyone was waiting for Sasha’s retaliation.

“No?” Sasha gritted, dumbfounded.

“He’s the Chief,” Pakhan spoke.

“That doesn’t mean he can kidnap my bride!” Sasha protested.

Silence filled the room again, and heavy feet shuffled around me.

“I mean… apologies, Alexander, but Lada is supposed to be my wife,” Sasha said in a low voice.

I swallowed thickly. “I don’t want to marry you.”

I instantly shut my mouth at what slipped out. I chided myself for being careless with my tongue. Well, I was at least glad I didn’t have to see anyone’s judgmental faces. I could speak freely now.

“You heard her, loud and clear,” Miran’s voice came. “Now, you’re going to step aside and let me leave… peacefully, otherwise, instead of a marriage today, there might be a funeral.”

Sasha was still sputtering curses but then he stopped mid-way when Pakhan’s voice came again, “Let them leave for now. We don’t want any trouble with the police.”

A sigh of relief left my lips, and a small smile formed on my face.

Miran had come for me to stop this marriage.

He picked me over the Bratva.

Well… technically, I was part of it too. A noble Mafia princess, but he went against Pakhan’s orders. I gripped the fabric of Miran’s shirt tightly, hanging desperately for life in case Sasha tried to snatch me away.

Had he changed his mind about marrying me?

My heart filled with hope all over again. I wanted to ask him, but I couldn’t right now. I felt too many ears on us, inspecting and watching our every move.

“Come,” Miran’s voice came.

His hand pulled me to him and his footsteps moved. My dress trail weighed me down with the thousands of crystals on it. He jerked my hand, pulling me with him as he walked. Struggling to move behind him, I tried to match his footsteps. I think he forgot I was blind. I slipped over the fabric and the stairs as my vacant stare searched through the dark, trying to navigate it.

I yelped when strong, muscular arms caught me before I fell. I was lifted from the ground, and my heart pounded as his hand fell on my waist to carry me. His grip was firm and smooth. I held my breath the entire time.

My feet met the ground, and I was no longer in his arms, but he was still holding my shoulders, still keeping me safely tucked underneath him.

I was a bit disappointed.

Would it be silly to think I expected my savior to sweep me off my feet?

That was what happened in movies and books at least.

“Do you have a cane with you?” Miran murmured.

“I have one at home, but I rarely use one.”

I barely leave my house.

I was grateful I couldn’t see anyone’s expressions right now as I clung to Miran. I didn’t want to imagine Papa’s death glare. Papa had mentioned there were over two hundred guests here today. I gulped deeply at the thought that he might feel humiliated and would retaliate.

Was he angry that I had spoken up and that I was going with Miran?

I couldn’t handle the chaotic, crowded room. I wanted to get out of here right now. Although, I wished I could do something about the chaos burning in my heart, threatening to rip me into two. I tried to pace my steps, and Miran slowed down, allowing me to catch up. A fresh breeze of spring met my face, and I figured we exited the building. The warmth of the sun seeped into my skin, and a trickle of sweat ran down the back of my neck.

“You bride stealing fucker! I will kill you,” a voice boomed from behind.

Sasha.

He must have followed us out, despite Pakhan’s orders.

Before I could react, a bullet fired in the air and an agonizing blood gut-wrenching scream filled the air. My blood chilled in my veins. Outside, chaos had erupted. Gunshots. More gunshots came. Crying and screaming filled the air. I heard voices all around me. Bile rose to my throat, and I inhaled deeply to keep myself from retching.

Who was getting shot? What was going on?

Stop. Just. Stop.

My body trembled with fear, and I was about to scream, but a hand clamped down on my shoulder. Startled, I pushed it away like a mad woman, but a poetic, accented voice came, “Shhh, it’s just me, moya kroshka.”

Little one.

Miran. I relaxed instantly.

The Russian in his voice was unmistakable with the softly rolling vowels. The way he pronounced each word made me want him to ask him to keep talking. Shoving the thoughts in the back of my head, I focused.

“Are you hit?” I exclaimed.

Without waiting for an answer, I reached out in his voice’s direction, my hands wandering until they touched his shoulder and chest, searching his body for any wounds. I tried not to feel how hard his muscles felt beneath my fingertips. What was he like shirtless? I shook my inappropriate thoughts off and focused on examining him. I clung to him desperately. I didn’t smell the tang of metallic blood coming from him. He still smelled like cedar.

His body tensed, and his hand grasped mine.

I stopped inspecting.

“And no,” he mused, “It was only Sasha’s legs. Hopefully, he’s crippled.”

“You’ll pay for this, Chief!” Sasha groaned.

My lip turned up in a smile, and I wish I could see him lying on the ground, crying.

“The rest of you, don’t come at me, otherwise, I will place a bullet in your head,” Miran threatened.

He shoved me into the seat of a car, and I could feel him lifting my poofy dress’ skirt, trying to fit it all inside. Once he finished, he slammed my door, blocking the shouts still coming outside of the church. Even the car smelled like him.

On the opposite side of me, the door closed just as fast as it opened. Miran started the engine, and the car sputtered, jostling me from my thoughts. The engine roared as he backed the car up and drove fast. My back hit the seat hard, my fingers clung to the door handle.

What was our destination?

Had he changed his mind about marrying me?

I hid a smile. Perhaps, that was why he had come for me.

I was just about to ask him, but his phone rang.

He answered on the fourth ring.

“What are you doing?” a familiar voice fumed.

Alexander.

He didn’t sound too happy. I stared blankly ahead. The phone wasn’t on speaker, and it was very low, but I could hear the voice.

Was Miran wearing a headset?

“Do you know what’s the punishment for attacking the Bratva? You shot Sasha.”

“And I would do it again,” Miran replied, “He was going to kill me.”

Pakhan sighed on the other line.

“Do you know why you are still alive?”

“I’m the police,” Miran said dismissively.

Pakhan scoffed, “You lived because I choseto. You think I’m afraid to kill DEA?”

“I don’t know, are you?” Miran challenged.

I frowned at them fighting. I didn’t know how close they were, but a bolt of fear ran through my body at the thought of upsetting our Pakhan.

“This was a personal family matter. It wasn’t DEA related, and you have no jurisdiction. You overstepped,” Pakhan seethed out.

Miran didn’t reply.

“You disobeyed me,” Pakhan accused.

“You know that I don’t obey the Bratva, right?”

“You think you’re better than me than the Bratva, cousin?” Pakhan jabbed. “You engage in shady behavior too. Have you forgotten what you have done for Dahlia, covering up her and your crime all those years ago?”

My nosy ears perked up.

Well, they were arguing next to me. What was I supposed to do? And crime? What was Pakhan talking about?

The ride continued, and I sensed Miran’s gaze on me. Despite everything, his gaze felt warm and soothing.

What color eyes does he have?

I think he was watching me closely to see if I was listening. I pretended I wasn’t, but I glued my ears to the conversation.

“Do you think you will still be Chief if the DEA finds out?”

The challenge in Pakhan’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I fiddled with my fingers at his wrath. I’d heard a rumor about him once that when he was seventeen, he’d torn his hand into a man’s chest and pulled out his bleeding heart.

He was no one to mess with, and Miran Demir had just crossed him for… me.

Miran risked everything, his job, his family, to stand up for me. A stranger had been on my side while my brothers had just watched.

It made my eyes water.

“Do you think she will still have her immunity then?”

Miran was quiet for a few moments before his voice came out in a deadly, hoarse whisper, “Are you threatening me, Zander? If you wanna fuck around, you only fuck with me then.”

I couldn’t trace any fear in his voice. My heartbeat raced at the threat. It sounded kinda… sexy coming from a law enforcement officer who wasn’t supposed to be foul-mouthed.I could feel my skin flushing, and I twisted my head to glance in the opposite direction, hoping my frantic heart would stop hammering and wouldn’t burst out of my chest. Miran’s speeding didn’t help. He was fuming, and the car jerked around, causing my elbows to hit the door.

“If even a hair on her little head is harmed, I will rip you apart, cousin or no cousin, brother or no brother,” he finished.

My heart pounded with an erratic force in my chest. He didn’t fear our Pakhan? What kind of man was he? He seemed dangerous.

He was so protective over that woman though. I could never fully understand what their relationship was from what I had heard. Were they together at one point? My lip curled upward in a disgusted grimace at the thought of him tumbling in sheets with someone else. I didn’t have any right over him, but for the past three years, it had been drilled into my mind about our marriage alliance. It was hard not to be affected.

Pakhan was silent before he carefully said, “Your parents are in my house, have you forgotten?”

I froze at the threat, and Miran was quiet like death.

“Did you even think about them even once before taking this step?”

Miran remained mute.

I assumed he hadn’t.

“I won’t allow Adrian to hurt them. I will protect them under my rule,” Pakhan continued.

Miran sighed, I guess that was his way of replying, thank you.

“What if Adrian leaks out your identity?”

“He can try but it won’t help him. The Bratva won’t kill one of their own once they know the truth,” Miran mused, “He could run and tell Enzo Vitalli,” he laughed darkly, sending shivers down my spine, “but he is in jail.”

“You think you’re untouchable? You are insane.”

Pakhan’s deep voice was getting louder, losing the smooth coolness he always carried.

“Your morality takes over, clouding everything. You play savior, and you break laws set by your duty, Mir. Watch your back because I don’t know what Sasha and Adrian will do now.”

Silence filled the air then.

I think the call had ended. I didn’t speak, but I wanted to know what Miran was thinking, but I was afraid to ask. We drove for what felt like hours in complete serenity. No music played, and I didn’t ask him to. It surely wasn’t the time for it. I didn’t know how much time had passed. Was it still afternoon or was it evening now?

My body was sore in my heavy dress and from all the lumps in the road we’d taken, speeding away from the Bratva. I took off my veil slowly which was heavy against my head. Not knowing what else to do with it, I held it in my hands. Moments later, it was snatched out of my hands.

Must be the man next to me.

I mindlessly folded my hands in my lap when the car erupted to a stop. My tired eyes that were lulling to sleep snapped open, and I turned to the left, waiting for him to speak.

“This is our safehouse,” Miran said as he opened the car door and exited.

Wait, what? I thought we were going to his house.

Confused, I fumbled for the door handle before pushing it open. A grunt greeted me. I think I hit Miran. He was probably opening my door for me. The gesture made me smile before a worried expression replaced the feeling.

“Did I hurt you?” I asked quietly.

He chuckled. “No.”

“What time is it?” I asked after a second.

“Five in the evening.”

Oh. He must have been driving for three hours. The ceremony was scheduled for two in the afternoon. We weren’t in Bratva territory anymore, and they might not find us.

My curiosity piqued. “Where are we?”

“It’s a small town in Staten Island.”

I only nodded.

“I would say follow me at this moment, but it won’t work,” he teased. I smiled at the joke. “I’m going to take your hand again.”

I nodded, but too eagerly this time, wanting to feel the touch of his skin against mine again. I liked holding hands with him. It was intimate and different. I held in a breath when his palm brushed over my knuckles, and I forced myself to keep breathing.

Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out.

I repeated the mantra in my head.

“There are stairs,” he whispered.

As we walked up, I counted the twenty steps in my head for next time use. I lifted my dress with my other hand so I wouldn’t tumble down.

Knocking filled my ears, and the door creaked opened.

“You’re here,” a woman’s voice came. “I was waiting for you to come. Is this her?” she asked. I assumed she was speaking about me. “I’m Ayla. Welcome to Sanctum.”

I liked her voice. It was sweet and kind.

“Hello. I’m Lada,” I replied, politely.

Miran nudged my hand forward, indicating that we had to step inside. Taking a few hesitant steps forward, I jumped at the door slamming behind us.

Voices chattering filled my ears.

Men, women, and children.

But the voices quieted as if they had noticed us… or me.

It wasn’t every day a bride in a wedding dress made a grand entrance in a safehouse. It was embarrassing, and I wanted to hide myself from their prying eyes.

“I’ll bring a pair of new clothes for her,” Ayla said, coming to my defense.

I flashed a grateful smile in the direction of her voice.

Her footsteps retreated from us, leaving just Miran and me.

He dropped his hold from my hand, my skin losing his warmness as it hit the cold air.

“First things first, we need to get you out of that dress.”

Oh, God… Why did he have to say simple things like that? It sounded like he wanted me to undress for him. My skin burned at the suggestion. I shook my head silently, and I scolded myself internally for making stupid assumptions.

“I understand this might not be the way you imagined your wedding.” A hysterical giggle wanted to erupt through my throat, but I held it in. “Ayla, the caretaker, will bring you some clothes to change into. She’ll show you to your room,” he continued. “Unless you have anywhere else, you would like to go where you are safer, tell me now.” When I didn’t reply, he continued, “So, safehouse it is.”

“You are leaving me here?” I asked, bewildered.

“Yes.”

“I thought I would stay with you,” I protested weakly.

I hated how pathetic I sounded.

“It’s not safe. I live alone, and I can’t protect both of us from the Bratva’s retaliation. During the day, I work at the office and in the field. Who will look after you then?”

I wanted to suggest maybe we could take Ayla with us, but now the thought sounded silly. He owed me nothing, I realized.

“This safehouse has trustable cops, and you will be protected here.”

It stung how he was dismissing me.

I fiddled with my fingers and picked at my skin.

“I don’t know anyone in this safehouse.” I exhaled slowly. “You don’t understand. They’re all strangers. I can’t…” my voice trailed off.

I can’t see them.

I don’t recognize them.

How was I supposed to explain to him I recognized him and his scent now? His cedar scent was familiar, and it comforted me. I didn’t want to think too much about the fact that I wanted him around me too. I wished he could understand my perspective.

Silence only greeted me from his end. I knew he was still there. I could still smell him and his manly scent.

“I don’t have my cane,” I said when he hadn’t answered.

I didn’t know what he was doing, but I heard knots cracking. Was he cracking the knots in his shoulder? I was a nuisance to him. I understood. He helped me, protected me, did his duty, and now I was no longer his responsibility.

“I’ll return soon and bring you one,” he promised. “Ayla will take care of you.”

Footsteps returned, and a jasmine, flowery scent hit me.

Ayla was back.

“I have to return to the chaos of the damage that I have created,” he continued, “You will be protected here. You have my word.”

I stared at the ground and nodded meekly. What else could I say in my defense if that was his final decision? I waited for him to leave, but he still lingered for a few moments later. I wanted him to change his mind and take me with him.

I wasn’t sure why he wasn’t leaving.

Did he want me to bid him goodbye?

“Thank you for helping me,” I said at last.

“I’ll see you around, Little Lada.”

And with that, Miran’s footsteps retreated from me. The door opened and slammed behind him, and I could only stare in the direction he had just been. His scent still lingered in the air, but it was slowly fading until it was like he’d never been here at all. An ache of frustration filled my heart. I didn’t belong here, at least not without my cane. Too many people surrounded me.

“You must be hungry,” Ayla’s sweet voice interrupted. “Come with me. I’ll show you to the restroom and bring you a hot plate and soup.”

I waited for her to take my hand, but her footsteps stepped away.

My eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Wait… come where?”

Her feet paused.

“Oh, my goodness. I am so sorry! I forgot for a moment.”

I nodded politely. Most people did. It took time to get used to. She latched onto my arm and pulled me close to her.

“I don’t know what happened to you today, but you make a gorgeous bride. You’re a real beauty,” she gushed.

My lips tingled and ended up stretching in a weak smile. With makeup plastered on, I was called a beauty.

“Thank you. It was a… rough day,” I replied.

She stopped moving after one hundred and twenty steps.

“This is the restroom. Let me help you out of this dress.”

A few minutes later, I had changed into a comfortable, long, cotton dress. Ayla had stepped outside to bring me food while I washed my makeup off with the cleanser, she gave me. I think I was makeup-free. I would have to confirm with Ayla to make sure. My scars could finally breathe now. When I stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door behind me, fatigue hit my body. I needed dinner and a good night’s sleep.

“I have a tray here for you and—” Ayla paused.

A sharp gasp hit the air, and a clunking sound erupted at the ground on impact. She must have dropped the tray, spilling the food contents to waste.

My face. She had seen my bare face.

I reached up instantly to cover the right side of my scarred face, uncomfortably. I forgot to hide it. Was anyone else looking at me? I sensed more than one person in the room. If this was her reaction, what would be the reaction of the others noticing me and my flaws? Would they laugh and point at me?

I bit down on my lip, but this time, tears didn’t come. Tears required energy, and after today, I had none. I sighed deeply and for the second time today, I wished Miran had taken me with him. He hadn’t reacted like this when he’d seen me for the first time when I had met him bare faced. At least I believed he didn’t.

No one knew me here.

A blind, scarred person wasn’t fit for a crowd.

I was judged every time.

Sanctum wasn’t for me.

“Oh, I am so sorry, Dear. You just caught me off guard,” she sputtered.

She might as well have said I was no longer a beauty.

I was the beast of my story.

I nodded weakly, unsure of what to say to her.

“Miran hadn’t mentioned,” she continued, but then she stopped talking.

Why would my scars be a topic of discussion? I knew she meant that Miran didn’t warn her about my face, but I smiled deep inside at the fact that he hadn’t seen it as anything to warn about.

“I’ll bring you another tray,” she finished. “Come sit by the bed.” She grabbed my arm and guided me to a scratchy but warm cot. “I’m so sorry again, my dear. I didn’t expect... I’m not trained for…” she trailed off her sentence.

I swallowed thickly. For me. She wasn’t trained for me. It wasn’t her fault, and I wouldn’t hold it against her.

“It’s alright,” I replied gently.

“I’ll bring you another tray and clean up the mess.”

With that, her footsteps retreated away.

I choked out the ragged breath caught in my chest for some time. Memories of what occurred throughout the day flashed in my mind. Voices dominated my mind, taking over now.

Papa. Sasha. Miran. Alexander. Vova. Sergei. Alexei.

It was too much all at once.

I pulled my knees closer to my chest and tucked the right side of my face onto my knees. My eyes were slowly closing and feeling heavier by the second. I tried to snap myself alert, that Ayla was bringing me food. I would eat and then sleep.

A few moments later, a jasmine scent hit me.

“Eat up,” Ayla’s chirpy voice said.

Lifting my eyes, I was careful to hide my face from her with my wavy locks. I didn’t want her to drop the tray again. I mumbled, thank you as she guided me toward the tray and its contents. Chicken corn soup, roast chicken, bread, and water. The soup was satisfying, but the chicken was too bland for my liking.

Well, this was a safehouse. I shouldn’t have expected the food to be first class. I ignored my privileged taste buds as I stayed quiet and ate my food.

Ayla asked me questions, but I only gave her one-word audible answers. I stopped talking altogether when she asked about my scars. I could speak about my blindness, but the scars were a sensitive topic, so I avoided it. Taking the hint that I wasn’t in the mood for small talk, she bid me goodbye and told me to rest well as she gathered the tray with her.

My eyes kept shutting down, and I wanted to stop her and ask, ‘Wait, how will I find you again?’

It was too late by then. I had already fallen into a deep sleep.

I woke up the next morning and counted the steps toward the bathroom near me I’d memorized from last night. When I returned to my bed, I wondered where Ayla was. I didn’t know who slept on the other side of the room. I’d heard light snoring when I woke up in the morning.

I swallowed my pride and forced myself to ask for help.

“Hello?” I asked the person who lay across from me.

My roommate.

No reply.

“Hello?” I repeated. “Do you know where Ayla is?”

“In the kitchen probably,” the young girl replied, yawning from her sleep.

I frowned. “Where is the kitchen?”

“In the East,” she mumbled.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “I am blind, and I cannot tell which way is East.” I had used a Braille compass for directions, but I didn’t have it on me.

“Over there,” she replied softly before lightly snoring again.

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat.

“Hello?” I asked again.

I think she passed out.

If I had a cane, I could have managed my way around, but last night, Miran hadn’t returned. Maybe I should wait for Ayla to come to me instead.

I thought that was the best option, so I waited. And I waited some more. Now, I didn’t know how long I was waiting for, twenty, maybe thirty minutes. My stomach grumbled, and my throat ran dry, seeking water.

I forced my legs to rise and with my trembling hands, I moved my hands. Maybe I could find someone outside the room who would take me to Ayla or the kitchen at least. I walked in small steps, looking for a wall I could follow, connected to a door. Finally, I found one. I pressed my hands against it, grimacing at the hard, granite feel of it. I didn’t want to imagine what kind of dust or dirt I was touching. I shook off my thoughts and I focused on the exit. A few minutes after getting nowhere, I found a surface that was made from wood.

A door. I smiled excitedly, and my hand dragged lower, looking for a doorknob. I gently pulled it open as I stepped outside.

“Hello?” I asked.

No voices. No scents.

I kept my hands on the wall as I followed it.

“Hello?” I repeated.

A few moments later, heavy footsteps came in my direction, and I bumped into a hard body.

“Watch where you’re going,” a male voice snapped.

“Oh…” My cheeks warmed. “I’m bli…”

I didn’t finish because whoever had spoken had already rushed away in hurried, indifferent movements.

Shame filled me, and my face heated. Exhaling slowly, I tried following the wall again, but I didn’t know if I was getting anywhere. My ears perked up when an unfamiliar smell hit me. A masculine, leather scent. Whoever it was, he had freshly showered.

“Hello?” I asked.

I was tired of saying hello with no one to greet me.

“Yes?”

Finally. I sent a silent prayer of thanks to God.

The man sounded young.

My trembling hands reached up to wipe the sweat from my forehead. This had taken a lot of frustration and a lot of effort. I hoped I would have a damn cane soon because I was one second from screaming my head off.

“Could you guide me to the kitchen?” I asked, desperately. So much for my pride. I had already swallowed it. “I’ve been trying to find Ayla or the kitchen at least.”

“I saw you yesterday with her,” the man spoke lower now.

I nodded, confused by his tone. Something felt off somehow, and I couldn’t place my finger on it.

“Yes, I’m Lada, and you are?” I asked politely.

“Why were you touching the wall like that?” he asked with confusion.

“Well, I can’t see. I’m blind, that’s why I asked you for directions.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the air.

“So…” he began, “You won’t know what I’ll look like if I touch you?”

I froze.

My limbs turned to stone, and my body didn’t follow the command my brain sent it. Fear wrapped around my rib cage, keeping me imprisoned in place.

Move now.

My throat closed up and I stumbled back, almost tripping over my feet. My hand clutched my chest. I needed a moment to pull myself together, to think.

What did he just say?

I didn’t want to believe what I’d just heard, but reality slammed in my face again when a finger brushed my loose tendril back.

Was I really safe anywhere?

I sucked in a sharp breath and shook my head wildly.

“I saw you yesterday in your wedding dress. Poor, pretty little thing. I didn’t know you couldn’t see,” he mused, his hand reaching out and grazing the left side of my scar-free cheek. “I think I hit a jackpot today.”

Oh, God… Who was this man, and what was he doing in a safehouse? He was the person people seek shelter from.

Someone like him definitely didn’t belong here.

I hated his touch, and I crawled back as his hand reached out to my neck, grazing it. I swatted his hands, hitting the ring on one of his fingers. He grabbed my arm, squeezing it tightly, and his nail scratched against my neck.

“Stop fighting so hard,” he demanded. “You have a banging body but a fucked up face. Maybe I should paperbag you.”

My eye sockets almost burst out, and I yelped as I reached out to claw him. I grabbed air, but I didn’t stop trying. I would fight. I ended up grabbing the chain wrapped around his neck. Taking advantage, I pulled it roughly against his skin. He grunted, and I hoped it had left a bruise.

He was surely mistaken if he thought I couldn’t identify him.

I let go of him instantly and ran in the opposite direction.

“Where are you going?” he grunted behind me. “I can’t chase you with a bad knee.”

A trickle of sweat trailed its way down my right temple. I didn’t bother to wipe it. With adrenaline rushing through my blood, I ran even faster. He was gaining on me, and I was just about to scream for help.

“Wait, you’ll fall!” his voice called out.

My breath was caught in my throat, and my screams never came out as my foot hit the air. I realized a second too late. The ground was gone, and I was free falling in the air.

“Grab my hand!”

Another person who forgot that I was blind after I had mentioned it.

He wanted to grope me, but he didn’t want me to die.

Still, he was disgusting, just like Sasha.

There are stairs, a voice said in my head.

So poetic, deep, and masculine.

A scream erupted from my throat. My fear was immense as I went tumbling down the stairs, my body twisting and turning with every step. I tried to cover my face and head, but my bones jostled every time I hit the hard cement.

I’m taking your hand, okay?

It was only my second day at Sanctum, and I’d already fallen to my death.

When I landed on the last step, I hit my head hard, and I howled in pain before I blacked out.