I would have liked to stay with them forever, but eternity would have seemed too short.

I had to go through it several times before I managed to write a coherent letter.

I didn't want to hurt this couple who had welcomed me so warmly.

I sincerely liked them, and that's why it was out of the question for me to put their lives in danger.

I reread one last time the little letter I had written in English.

"Inga, Donatello,

I can't thank you enough for being so welcoming to me. You didn't know me, and for a while you welcomed me into your home, into your little traditional house.

I would have liked to stay with you and live here, learn Russian, and maybe even start a life in this country.

But this country is not mine, and this life is only a dream.

I could never put the lives of people like you in danger. It is out of the question that the mafia attacks you. For that I am obliged to leave.

You will always remain in my heart, and for what you have done for me, I am eternally grateful to you.

Take care. I love you.

Elizabeth xox"

I smoothed the blackened paper from my handwriting and laid it on the bed.

I had spent the whole day with this family.

Night had now enveloped the small northern town. Inga and Donatello had gone to sleep less than an hour ago. only a few foodstuffs. I had also stolen a photo of the couple. I wasn't proud of it, but it was the only way I had found to take their faces full of tenderness with me.

I put on the backpack and slowly opened the door. I walked slowly, like a thief, down the hallway of the house.

Passing in front of the door of their room, I felt a twinge in my heart. If I had been selfish, I would have stayed here. I could even have gotten used to this life.

Yet I continued on my way.

Because precisely, when you love someone, you protect them, and I had developed feelings for this couple, so friendly with the stranger that I was.

I went down the stairs and looked one last time at the little house whose three living rooms were bathed in moonlight.

I hadn't been around them for a long time, but when I closed the door, I knew that I was going to miss this family.

I walked through the darkness, finding myself in the city lights.

Here I am again in this city, which is still as unknown to me. Here I am, just as lost as a few days earlier when I had returned to the chubby man.

And the same question came to mind: what was I going to do now?

Never having burned her wings, she did not feel the danger of the flame.

Sitting on the public bench, I looked at the moon. It was not full; it was a small crescent.

She too was missing something.

When my sister was gone, I liked to look at her and think that no matter where she might be in the world, we were looking at the same moon, and somewhere the celestial star connected me to my big sister.

It might have been our mother's darling, but I never held it against her. After all, she was my sister, my blood.

But when she left, I hated her. Not only did she leave me alone—she was my role model—but my mother's indifference towards me was also transformed into hatred.

Since she left, my mother was no longer transparent but black. Every day I was subjected to her criticisms, her remarks, and her humiliations. At the beginning it had hurt me very badly. I answered her by screaming, or then I cried hot tears in front of her, hoping to awaken her maternal side.

Poor kid.

Some time later I had stopped in front of his lack of reaction and understood that we could not force people to like us.

Faced with this heavy fatality, I had made a big decision: never again would I be weak in front of someone.

And it was. Since then I had never cried in public again; I had built myself a shell, and I fled into it as if it had been a fortified castle.

Dreaming of my past, I didn't see myself falling asleep on the cold metal bench.

It was only the next morning, when a policeman shook me, that I realized that I had dozed off in this public place like the homeless people to whom I threw coins out of pity when I was little.

He yelled something at me in Russian that I didn't understand. Seeing my head shaped with incomprehension, he sighed.

I don't speak Russian, I expressed myself.

They were only missing that! Where do you come from?

From California.

He looked at me, and I saw from his expression that he was thinking. It took several long minutes before he opened his mouth again.

Get in my car. I'll take you to post.

I followed him to the small vehicle. Contrary to my bad habit, I fastened my seat belt. I was in the presence of the forces of order after all!

After he had started the engine, he dialed a number. When his correspondent answered, they chatted for a few short minutes, and once he had hung up, he set off.

For a short lapse of time, we drove on a lane at the limit of the highway and the country lane. Then he stopped in front of a car.

Innocently I tell myself that he must have gone and alarmed him that he was badly parked.

I swallowed my saliva with difficulty.

Obviously not everyone had a good Samaritan soul like Donatello and his wife.

Take me one last time to see those places that silenced the din of my dark thoughts.

BASS! POLICEMAN OF MY BALLS! I yelled as Ivan and his men dragged me out of the car. I WILL NEVER BUY YOUR UGLY CALENDAR AGAIN!

On Ivan's usually impassive face I saw the hint of a smile.

I was still swearing at that traitor when the car hit the freeway.

"You're driving me to hell, I guess," I whispered, looking out the window.

No, the orders have changed.

How so? I asked, turning my bewildered face to him.

You escaped the Russian mafia for almost a week; the boss wants to meet the young girl who managed to play his men for so long.

I tried to understand his words, a succession of words that I no longer even expected, while the northern landscape scrolled through the tinted window.

Maybe miracles did happen after all?

When the car slowed down in front of a huge grid, I realized that I might have spoken too quickly.

Because when those metal monsters closed behind me, I knew I hadn't just regained my freedom but lost what little I had left.

We walked through the great post-habitation domain; it was a huge park dotted with trees and cut by the path on which we were driving. I had never seen anything so beautiful.

At least until I see the house itself.

In front of me stood a huge mansion painted white; the front, a small sunken space, had two large columns, which, it seemed, held up the entire dwelling.

I got out of the car and ran to the little fountain opposite the entrance to the little palace.

I stared at the sky blue water, and I smiled in the face of so much beauty. It reminded me of my family vacation; every year we went to the same luxurious hotel, and every evening I had to go and look at the reflection of the moon in the fountain in front of the hotel. It was a tradition in the Rosefield family to go to this hotel. But even the traditions could not resist the disappearance of my sister.

I never saw the reflection of the moon in this hot water again, but the memory of it is intact.

"Ready to discover your princess castle?" Ivan whispers to me before passing me.

Suddenly I noticed the men guarding the entrance, those whom Ivan greeted, and my paradise fell into nothingness. I was not a princess; I was a prisoner. I was not facing a palace but facing hell, and inside I did not expect my prince but the devil himself.

It was now uneasy that I resumed my journey and followed in Ivan's footsteps.

The interior was in no way disappointing, quite the contrary. It was as sumptuous as the exterior.

Maids were running to the right and to the left like the ghosts of the place. Ivan didn't even seem to see them, nor them, nor the guards posted at the four corners of the house, and I wondered what it was like to be as invisible as useful.

It must be excruciating.

Suddenly one of the ghosts was called out to by my captor.

Olga, can you take our guest to the room reserved for her? She should wash, change, and make up before meeting him, don't you think?

The good lady nodded and asked me to follow her. She trotted along the way; even on the stairs I had the impression that she trotted like this.

Maybe it was a tic due to his demanding job? Or a remnant of a child who couldn't stay still?

She stopped in front of a huge double door and waved me in first.

BASS! POLICEMAN OF MY BALLS! I yelled as Ivan and his men dragged me out of the car. I WILL NEVER BUY YOUR UGLY CALENDAR AGAIN!

On Ivan's usually impassive face I saw the hint of a smile.

I was still swearing at that traitor when the car hit the freeway.

You're driving me to hell, I guess, I whispered, looking out the window.

No the orders have changed

How so ? I asked turning my bewildered face to him.

You escaped the Russian mafia for almost a week, the boss wants to meet the young girl who managed to play his men for so long.

I tried to understand his words, a succession of words that I no longer even expected, while the northern landscape scrolled through the tinted window.

Maybe miracles did happen after all?

When the car slowed down in front of a huge grid, I realized that I might have spoken too quickly.

Because when those metal monsters closed behind me, I knew I hadn't just regained my freedom but lost what little I had left.

We walked through the great post habitation domain, it was a huge park dotted with trees and cut by the path on which we were driving. I had never seen anything so beautiful.

At least until I see the house itself.

In front of me stood a huge mansion painted white, the front, a small sunken space, had two large columns which, it seemed, held up the entire dwelling.

I got out of the car and ran to the little fountain opposite the entrance to the little palace.

I stared at the sky blue water and I smiled in the face of so much beauty. It reminded me of my family vacation, every year we went to the same luxurious hotel and every evening I had to go and look at the reflection of the moon in the fountain in front of the hotel. It was a tradition in the Rosefield family to go to this hotel. But even the traditions could not resist the disappearance of my sister.

I never saw the reflection of the moon in this hot water again, but the memory of it is intact.

Ready to discover your princess castle, Ivan whispers to me before passing me.

Suddenly I noticed the men guarding the entrance, those whom Ivan greeted, and my paradise fell into nothingness. I was not a princess, I was a prisoner, I was not facing a palace but facing the hell, and inside did not expect my prince but the devil himself.

It was now uneasy that I resumed my journey and followed in Ivan's footsteps.

The interior was in no way disappointing, quite the contrary. It was as sumptuous as the exterior.

Maids were running to the right, to the left like the ghosts of the place. Ivan didn't even seem to see them, nor them, nor the guards posted at the four corners of the house, and I wondered what it was like to be as invisible as 'useful.

It must be excruciating.

Suddenly one of the ghosts was called out to by my captor.

Olga, can you take our guest to the room reserved for her? She should wash, change and make up before meeting him, don't you think?

The good lady nodded and asked me to follow her. She trotted along the way, even on the stairs I had the impression that she trotted like this.

Maybe it was a tic due to his demanding job? Or a remnant of a child who couldn't stay still?

She stopped in front of a huge double door and waved me in first.

When I pushed open the huge door, I discovered an equally magnificent room.

In the large Victorian style room, a four poster bed, like a princess's couch, was leaned against a wall. On the wall to the right of the bed, separated by a door leading to an individual bathroom, was an imposing wardrobe of bright white. When I opened it I almost fell over. I had never seen so many clothes, there were all sizes and all colors, there had so much luxury that made me dizzy.

Take your time choosing an outfit while I'm running your bath, said the little house fairy to me as she disappeared behind the white door.

With my fingertips I scrolled through the outfits. There was something to please everyone. For galas, for business meetings, for weddings, for parties and even to stay at home, there was no lack nothing.

Luckily the maid didn't come back immediately because I wouldn't have known which one to choose.

I liked them all.

When choosing, I took into account my situation, the event and my personal tastes by opting for something between the dresses that make me complex and the unformal pants.

So I took my clothes and put them on the big bed, which looked so soft, had to enter the bathroom.

Right on time, Madam, I had just turned off the water, Inga smiles.

I thanked her and when she slammed the door I undressed before entering the boiling water full of foam.

The bathtub was full to the brim with hot water and as relaxed as that I had a hard time telling myself that I was about to take a bath in a house inhabited by the mafia.

After a long time enjoying the bath to the fullest I got out, only because the water was starting to get cold.

I dried myself and then wrapped the towel around my body while I went to get my clothes and my underwear.

Back in the bathroom, I put them on and rummaged through the makeup bags on the dressing table.

I found an eyeliner and mascara there, which I applied to my face after doing my complexion.

I liked to wear makeup, I loved it even. I liked to feel feminine in magnificent outfits. Gradually I had started to wear makeup and I had even developed a certain talent.

I undid my hair with an African comb and it fell curled and cascading down my back. Finally I put on pumps and left the bathroom. I closed the bedroom door behind me when I left.

Barely on the doorstep, Olga almost jumped on me.

Finally, miss, you should have put on a dress and let me do your makeup! She exclaimed in panic.

I'm not one armed, I know how to do it myself, I laughed.

Sir will not appreciate at all, not at all at all at all.

And stop Olga breathing. I'm not afraid of him because he's a mobster.

She looks at me shocked and I see in her eyes that she is hiding something from me.

She goes ahead of me and leads me through a maze of corridors and stairs. Finally she stopped in front of a huge door. She put her hands on the two handles and before opening the white doors she looked at me and said:

He's not just a mafia, the gentleman is the head of the Russian mafia.

After dropping the bomb, it disappeared leaving me alone in front of this large desk.

I had prepared to meet an important member of the mafia, not a boss.

At the far end of the door, seated behind a solid oak desk, sat a stunningly handsome man. He was chatting with an elderly man until he looked at me.

With a wave of his hand, he cut short his eldest while keeping his piercing eyes on me. What poise, what authority.

Determined, I walked in a straight line towards him.

I stopped only when I was a few millimeters from the end of his desk.

In the silence of the room, I took the time to detail it in more depth.

He was a strong, square shouldered man who looked like a God.

He must have been the hero of a lot of feminine fantasies. He was the kind of man who had all the women at his feet when he wasn't looking for anything serious. I have been given to see, whether in reality or in stores, yet he had everything the perfect asshole, deceiver and womanizer. Everything about him imposed respect and idolatry. He emanated from him a virility that thrilled me to the spinal cord and aroused a sensation in my lower abdomen.

Yet I was supposed to hate this kind of man.

He was scrutinizing me too. He rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt without taking his eyes off me.

I moistened my lips, I tried somehow to get out the unhealthy ideas that were germinating in my mind.

Take care of yourself, Elisabeth good God, good evening!

Sit down please, he said to me in a deep voice after an interminable staring game.

Finally I sighed, as if I had been in apnea and that I had just come back to the surface, I sat down on an armchair facing his desk.

He was also tall and imposing. I sat straight as a picket, I was not in my element. I had the impression of being prey for this man who had only one goal: destroy me.

The man from earlier, stiff, like a pawn, was studying me up and down.

I have no room for error.

So, Miss Rosefield, you are playing with my henchmen.

I felt like I was in my director's office trying to pull up my braces. The situation was all the more awkward as the feeling in my stomach didn't go away.

To tell the truth, she only got worse at the sound of his deep, masculine and downright sexy voice.

How long already? One day ?

A week, I corrected him with a glint of provocation in my eyes.

He dodged a smirk.

That's right

Suddenly he got up taking advantage of me, I was sitting and he was standing.

He was trying to make me uncomfortable.

He walked around his desk and came to stand in front of me, leaning slightly on the end facing me.

Tell me why can't I just kill you for this affront?

My blood froze, yes indeed he could quite simply kill me, make me disappear with the snap of a finger.

If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it already, am I wrong? I say with my head held high.

He laughed.

Indeed, maybe I only keep you because you amuse me with your rebellious ways.

At the end of this sentence, he leaned towards me so close that I could almost feel his mouth brush against my ear as his perfume intoxicated my nostrils.

Maybe I just want to fuck you Élisabeth

His crude words only accentuated the fire that consumed my lower abdomen.

The bastard he was trying to make me lose my means.

If so, I said standing up, you're wasting your time, you're not my type of man.

And before leaving, finding the courage of I don't know where I left him, turning my head:

Especially since I heard that it does not exceed the bar of ten centimeters. . K

And I left with my head held high, jostled by this reply that was far too daring for the virgin that I was.

This is out of the question ! I objected.

Vladimir, calm down, you know very well that when your father makes a decision, he doesn't go back on it.

IT IS OUT OF THE QUESTION THAT I MARRIED MY OWN COUSIN!

Finally Vladimir, Polina is not such a bad match

I said no

But

I cut off my uncle with a wave of my hand as a gentle creature burst into my office.

At the end of the room was the young American.

She walked towards me while staring at me. Her long legs executed firm, almost military movements.

She stopped right in front of my desk and, perched on her high heels, she remained motionless.

His brown eyes were fixed on me, they were framed by long hair with rebellious curls that made you want to comb it by hand.

Her little body was dressed in a simple top with a skirt, this outfit was a real provocation. Never had a woman presented herself to me other than dressed in a dress.

Her flared skirt ended in the middle of her fleshy thighs.

You couldn't say she was fat but to say she had a model body would have been a lie.

She was far from being the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, yet something made her different, pleasant to look at.

I rolled up my sleeves and she licked her lips.

His lower lip was thicker than the upper one.

Please sit down, I broke the electric silence.

She complied and took a seat in the large armchair in the corner to my right.

So, Miss Rosefield, you're playing with my henchmen.

I expected a reaction from her, red cheeks, eyes on the ground, anything but nothing came. She was impassive like the queen's red guards that I had seen as a child in front of Buckingham Palace.

How long already? One day ?

Seven, she corrected me.

Running away was already a feat in itself but managing to hide from my men for a whole week was a real miracle.

When Ivan had informed me that the girl had escaped, I had first wanted to kill her. not recovered, my orders had changed.

I was intrigued by this girl who had been playing hide and seek with Ivan for so long.

I smiled noticing that she had said this to me as a provocation, yearning to touch my honor.

In reality it was my ego that had taken a hit.

How did a high school girl, a girl moreover, manage to escape me to my country when she knew nothing about Russia?

That's right

I got up, pushed by the need to get closer to this walking miracle. I walked around my office and came to stand right in front of her.

Tell me why I simply can't kill you for this affront?

If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it already, am I wrong?

I was amused by this little bit of a rebellious woman.

As usual, women instinctively submitted to me, most certainly hoping that I would fall for the good little submissive wife.

This had never happened. Partly because I hated submissives and partly because I wasn't one to fall in love.

Apart from the suffering of others.

I leaned close to her. My lips brushed her cold, sensitive skin.

Maybe I just want to fuck you Elisabeth, I said.

She stiffened under the effect of my language.

Finally a reaction.

If so, you're wasting your time, you're not my type of man, he said standing up.

She turned her back to me and under her wide skirt I guessed a round, firm posterior.

Suddenly, lost in the contemplation of her attributes, I did not see her stop and turn her head slightly.

Especially since I heard that it does not exceed the bar of ten centimeters

On this last provocation she disappeared down the hall.

I was torn between the desire to catch up with her to make her mine in this same hallway and the desire to show her what it costs to defy me like this.

She looks so much like her , I tell myself bitterly.

I motioned for one of my guys to come forward.

I want you to put my three best men on this girl, I want to know everything about her.

I got up but my uncle called out to me.

This kid is not shy, she

Not now my uncle, I have other things to do, I cut him off.

And with that, I left my office.

In the bedroom I put my few meager belongings in my backpack.

Now that I had met him, I was sure he was going to let me go.

I heard footsteps but paid no attention, I had noticed that Olga used to come in without knocking.

Olga, I'm going to kill you, you told me at the last minute that it was the head of the mafia, I said, putting away my outfit from this morning in my bag.

Suddenly a large and powerful hand emptied my bag onto the bed.

I turned and faced the most powerful man I had ever met.

I... I thought it was Olga

I was angry with myself for baiguiller, it never usually happened to me!

I always managed to stay in control and thus make everyone believe that I was cold and confident.

Why are you packing your bag?

Well I imagined that I was free now.

Stop imagining things Elisabeth, he gets angry.

But

He holds my chin cutting me and at the same time destroys all the confidence I had in myself.

AND STOP BEING INSOLENT! I AM VLADIMIR IVANOVICH! I AM THE MOST POWERFUL MAN IN RUSSIA! he shouts.

He releases my chin.

From now on you will never disrespect me again, he said coldly.

He turns around and before leaving with a bestial gait, he tells me to put on a real dress for dinner tonight. By the way he also threatens me to dress me even if I arrive with something other than 'dress.

Once gone, I fall on the bed.

What kind of mess did you just land in my little Elisabeth?

I was still in bed when the real Olga arrived, I had fallen asleep and hadn't seen the time pass.

Come on my little one, you have to hurry up, dinner will soon be served! she exclaimed.

I sighed and got up reluctantly. This bed was really, really soft. I went to the wardrobe and opened the doors. Inside, I flushed out a dress.

She was beautiful, but as always on me she wouldn't have been enough to hide my overweight.

When I went shopping with my parents and my sister, I sometimes tried on dresses. Some caught my eye immediately, others had been unearthed on the rods.

In the fitting rooms I put them on, happy. But once I went out it was forfeiture. As soon as the curtain was drawn, I was already entitled to my mother's uncompromising gaze. Then after the gaze came undeniably the pungent remarks that gripped my guts and took my breath away.

As always I returned to the cabin the euforia of the moment very quickly forgotten. Sheltered in the fitting cocoon I took the time to inspect myself in the glass and, as always, I ended up giving right to my mother.

I hated my body, it disgusted me, made me sick.

However, I tried to lose weight and did nothing, but I couldn't stick to a diet or start exercising.

Since then I used to avoid dresses, skirts and shorts, anything that could reveal my unsightly body and especially my thighs.

No one had ever known that I carried within me this malaise, this perpetual conflict with my body.

That was the intended goal.

Camouflaging clothing had simply become my trademark.

I put the dress back on the rod. It was too beautiful to be worn by someone like me. I would feel like I was dirtying it.

I flushed out another, neither too long nor too short, neither too beautiful nor too ugly.

It was simple but sewn in silky fabrics. The color of the dress, a pink burgundy, highlighted the golden chains on the shoulders which gave the outfit a military air.

I went into the bathroom to put on the said dress while panting ravaged at the idea of leaving my pants which were almost like a second skin.

I returned to the dining room right on time.

Around the large Victorian style table, like the rest of the furniture, several people were already seated.

Girls, boys, teenagers, men, mature women.

All generations were represented around this table over which Vladimir seemed to reign. He was seated at the end of the table, in the king's place.

When I entered the great hall he stood up and his family followed suit.

I felt pairs of eyes analyzing me. This inspection brought back so many bad memories that I didn't stare at anyone for fear of holding a murderous gaze.

He walked over to me and looked me up and down.

A smile of satisfaction floated on her luscious lips.

I present to you my family, he said.

Arrived at the height of the last free chair I was obliged to look up.

Dozens of heads stared at me. When Vladimir sat down everyone imitated him and I silently thanked him for ending my ordeal.

Elizabeth this is my mother Tatiana, introduces me to Vladimir, next to her there is my father Aldo.

Her mother, a woman in her forties, had brown eyes and features drawn with age and fatigue. Her hair was slicked back to her head in a strict bun. disgust in the look.

I decided to put her in the category of people I was not going to get along with. I hated those who looked down on me. I had a holy horror of them.

I have a feeling we're going to get along well yippee.

I shifted my gaze one place and for a change I fell on the benevolent gaze of his father. He was a man just as old as his wife but despite his age he had managed to keep the athletic build of his youth. was smiling and I couldn't help but return a shy smile.

He seemed so nice that I almost forgot that he too was most certainly involved in illegal business.

Yet I decided to classify him in the nice category. For some reason I felt good about this man.

Delighted, I whispered.

His father answered me while his wife did not even move her lips. She had kept them pursed until they were beginning to turn whitish.

He had gone around the table. Cousins, cousins, aunts, uncles, brothers and sisters were seated like a normal family.

I found a touch of irony that a mafia family seemed more normal than my own family.

They all looked happy around this table, they were laughing among themselves and, apart from the few murderous looks I had received, nothing suggested that anyone present at this table could have an ounce of wickedness.

I hadn't opened my mouth for the whole meal. Usually I was a real chatterbox but finding myself here, among strangers, didn't make me feel confident.

I still didn't understand why a girl like me, with no history, no problem with the law, could find herself kidnapped by the Russian mafia.

By being here I had everything to lose, my normal life, my country and many others, but what had he gained by keeping me here like a princess in her ivory tower?

Without thinking much I opened my mouth and asked the question that had been burning my lips since I had left high school to find myself in this armored car:

Why am I here?

The assembly is silent, the conversations left in suspense and the cutlery filled with food motionless in the air.

Tatiana glared at me as if I had just broken a law. After all, I had just interrupted the Ivanovich family in the middle of dinner, me the simple little teenager from California.

You're here because I want to, said the owner coldly.

"Because that's reason enough to hold someone against their will?" I asked bewildered.

Yes, he replied in your sec.

Quietly he went back to eating as if it was usual for him to kidnap people, to put them through hell.

As if it were the devil.

But who do you think you are? I asked with a mixture of incomprehension and anger in my voice.

Suddenly the assembly froze, as if time had stopped. The cutlery stopped clinking on contact with the porcelain plates, the chewing noises disappeared, giving way to empty heads of emotion.

Even Vladimir looked, for a moment, surprised at my remark.

As if no one had ever taught him that not everything was necessarily due to him.

As if this man was really used to being compared to God or even Satan, ruling his kingdom as those rule heaven or hell.

He looked up at me.

I am the boss of the mafia and you, child, you better shut up.

In a jump of anger I get up, the chair creaking under the violence of my gesture.

We wonder which of us is a child! You who take you for a king thinking you are superior to everyone or me? I asked annoyed.

He got up almost without emotion but I detected nervousness in his movements.

Looks like I creased the crease resistant.

He advanced towards me, slowly making my torture last. And, when he arrived in front of me, he took me by the throat.

"YOU SHOULD FEAR ME AND RESPECT ME!" he yelled.

The silence resumed while in my head I chose my words like weapons before going into battle.

I'm not afraid of you, I began calmly. I'm not afraid of you, nor of what you could do to me, nor even of death.

After a long silence, witnessing a visual duel between him and me, I added, raising my arms to the sky:

I fear only the Almighty

Stunned by my remark he released his grip on my throat until he completely withdrew his hand.

He went away, leaving me standing there, overturning a table in his path, breaking dishes.