The Devil's CrownPart Two - Monica James Page 0,109
will once he’s ready. Besides, actions speak louder than words.
Once Tura is merely a few miles away, I watch the Alek I know be replaced with the Aleksei everyone is expecting to see. His stance changes as he holds his head high. We all have masks, and this is Alek’s.
Hard. Ruthless. Cold.
The luxury yachts are moored, and when we pass one, I slide down my sunglasses, wishing to hide my surprise at openly seeing a man on his knees in nothing but a ball gag being flogged by a woman in spandex.
Alek doesn’t stir, but I guess this is common practice in this world.
Once we pull up at a small dock, Alek turns off the engine and prepares for us to disembark. He looks casual in his shirt and trousers, but I know he’s done this with intent. He wants to create a false sense of security, so when he strikes, it’ll catch them unaware.
I walk down the stairs and cautiously approach the children. “We’re here,” I announce softly. “Remember what I told you?”
They peer up at me, their wide eyes expressing their fear.
“I promise, we won’t let anyone hurt you. But you have to trust me.” I gesture for them to come to me and give them all the time they need.
They look at one another, clearly sizing up whether they should trust me or not. They have every right to be wary. Look where they are. But eventually, the girl with the blonde hair stands. Seeing her at full height has me swallowing down my vomit.
She is skin and bones.
The other two soon stand, and the vision of three little orphans will be burned into my memory forever.
“It’s okay. I won’t hurt you,” I soothe, encouraging them to come to me.
It takes them a few minutes, but one by one, they walk toward me, eyes downcast, afraid.
“What are your names?” I ask again, hoping they answer me this time.
“Zofia,” says the blonde. Nodding at her friends, she indicates it’s okay.
“Lena,” says the brunette girl.
“Jacob,” reveals the little boy. He can’t be more than five years old.
I don’t know if they’re related. Or where they’re from. But that can wait because the sooner we get onto Tura, the sooner Alek can make those who are responsible for this heinous act pay. I almost can’t wait.
Alek’s footsteps down the stairs have the children gripping my dress as they hide behind me. Alek pauses when he sees the sight before him. He shakes his head, angered.
“They are so small,” he says, sickened.
“I know,” I reply, reaching behind me, comforting the scared little mice.
“They’re all going to pay,” he vows, his jaw taut. “Serg’s death will be nothing compared to what I have in store for every one of these долбоёбы.”
He inhales deeply, clearly needing a moment to compose himself.
“Let us go,” he instructs, walking toward the ramp.
I understand how personal this is for him. I know he sees Irina in them, and in a sense, this is his way to make peace within himself for not being able to save her. By saving these kids, he is saving her. That’s who Alek is—he wants to save the world.
With the children still clinging to me, I slowly follow Alek, waiting for him to arrange the platform so we can disembark. I know better than to look around—a mistress wouldn’t have permission to do so until Alek gave the orders.
So I wait until he directs me to walk.
With children in tow, we slowly descend the ramp, and once we hit the dock, I wait off to the side for Alek. A small crowd has formed. I can see their feet. But who they are, I don’t know as my eyes are peeled to the ground.
A man speaks to Alek in Russian, his tone light, joyful. He seems to be happy that Alek is here.
Alek replies in Russian, before switching to English. “Yes, I have the three stowaways. Who do I see for payment?”
There is no sugarcoating with Alek.
“Always business first,” says a female, who I already hate.
“Always, Galina, because with business comes pleasure.”
I measure my breaths as I know he has a role to play. But I still hate every single second that I’m here.
“Is this your new рабыня?” Galina asks, and although I don’t know what that means, I assume she’s not giving me a compliment.
“No,” Alek objects bluntly. “She is more than that. Now, if you’re done gossiping like a silly schoolgirl, please direct me to who these brats belong to.”