Elena's POV
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"El, let's go! The car is waiting!"
My little sister tugs on my shirt, looking up at me with her big doe eyes.
"Oh, sweetie. I won't be coming with you," I squat down so we are eye-level. "I'll be home making your favorite meal, buckwheat porridge," I smile, and she smiles back.
"Don't make it spicy like last time," her nose scrunches up, probably remembering the last 'incident.'
I laugh softly at how cute and defensive she looks. Pinching her tiny nose, I promise. "Of course not. I'll make sure to reduce the extra spice, okay? Now go wait in the car for Dad. I'll let him know it's time to leave."
"Okay." She places a small kiss on my cheek before skipping off toward the car.
I watch as Nikolai, the driver, carefully picks her up, settles her inside the car, and closes the door. Then, I set off to find Dad.
I'm close to his office and I can hear his muffled voice coming from inside. I shake my head. He sounds angry. He's always angry. I still don't get how he agreed to take Anya out today. It's not... usual.
I knock once, twice, three times. No answer. So I push the door open.
He's pacing the room, phone glued to his ear. He looks up at me for a quick moment before his eyes dart back down.
I observe the man in front of me: dark circles under his eyes, hard-edged lines across his forehead, and a scruff that shouldn't be there, as he is usually always cleanly shaved.
"Do something about it! I don't care what it is, but this matter needs to be resolved as soon as possible," Dad shouts into the phone before abruptly ending the call.
Not caring to know whatever the call was about, I quickly move on to the reason I came in here.
"The car's waiting. Anya's already there, and the driver's ready to leave. Are you still taking—"
His eyes snap to me. He could probably sense the sarcasm in my voice, but I could really care less.
He grunts, shoves his phone into his pocket, and walks past me without a word. I follow him out, closing the door behind me.
"Nikolai!" Dad barks the moment he steps outside. "Start the car!". He slides into the passenger seat while Nikolai hurries to start the engine.
The engine catches, and the car eases forward. I'm about to head inside again when the car comes to an abrupt stop.
I watch as Dad steps back out, confusion written all over my face.
"What happened?" I ask with a hard look. "Are you planning on ditching Anya after—"
"Mind your business, Elena," he cuts me off with a growl.
"What do you mean, mind my business?" I stretch out my hand to stop him when a blast of heat slams into me, stealing all the air from my lungs.
I'm thrown backward. My body hits the hard ground with full force, and my ears are ringing with a shrill, endless scream that isn't mine.
The car... our car. It's gone. Everything's been consumed by the flames. Fragments of glass and steel are scattered everywhere on the floor. What catches my attention is what looks like an arm on the ground.
Warm tears spill down my cheek, tracing burning paths across my face. I blink the tears away. It's not possible. It can't be. I can feel the lump forming in my throat.
I take a better look, and that's when I sight a pink bracelet wrapped around the wrist of the arm.
"No," the word rips out of me, raw and jagged.
I push myself up, stumbling toward the flames, my vision blurred with smoke. Heat claws at my skin, forcing me back even as my heart hurls me forward. Anya. My sweet little sister. This can't be happening.
Strong hands seize me, dragging me back. My father. His grip bites into my arms as if he can anchor me to the ground.
"Look away," he orders, his voice flat, cold.
But I can't. I won't. My eyes stay fixed on the inferno that devours the one person I care about. And in that moment, something inside me fractures.
Hate. For him... My father.
With tears streaming down my eyes, I turn to him with the little strength I can muster.
"You..." my voice breaks. "You did this..."
My father stares at me with the same flat expression. There is no single care or thought behind those eyes. It's almost like he didn't just watch his daughter explode before his eyes.
"You did this!" I yell. "You killed her! You killed Anya!"
"Stop this nonsense, Elena! You should be glad you weren't in that fire."
My whole heart shatters at his words. This man! He's... he's the devil. I gather all the strength I can and push him off me, hitting the ground once again. But I don't stay there. I get up immediately to face him.
"If I were the one in that fire, I would be the happiest person, because then my sister would be alive," I bite out, trying hard to hold in my tears.
"You should have been the one in the car!" I yell. "Why did you get off?!" I slam my hands against his chest with full force, and he pushes back by just half a step.
"Why?! Why?! Why?!" I keep hitting and hitting, not caring if it has any impact. "You should be dead, not Anya!!"
I fall to the ground on my knees, unable to control my tears.
"Who... just who did you offend so much this time? Why did they have to do this?" My voice is shaky, and I can barely hear myself. I look up at him, searching his eyes. Searching for something. An answer? Remorse?
Anything... but nothing. He gives nothing.
I watch as he takes his phone out of his pocket and makes a call.
"Idi zaymis' etim besporyadkom seychas." (Come take care of this mess now.)
That's all he says before he turns around and walks away.
My whole world is crumbling down as I kneel there. Silent tears stream down my eyes.
"Don't make it spicy this time," I hear Anya's voice at the back of my head. It passes like a shadow. It's there one second, and the next, there's only silence.
Anya was my world. My reason for existing. The only person I ever cared about, and now she's gone. They took her from me. He took her from me! My body is trembling, my mind screaming in silence. Darkness coils around me, heavy and unrelenting, pressing into my chest, suffocating every thought, every memory, every flicker of hope.
Then, faintly, voices reach me through the smoke. Muffled shouts, urgent commands, the chaos of people trying to quench the fire. I strain to make sense of them, but it's like listening through water, distant and distorted.
I remain on the floor, unmoving, until I am nothing but weight and shadow, lost in the hollow ache of her absence.
They left. They cleaned the whole place till there was not even a stain of blood on the floor. It was like it never happened. They wouldn't let me go near the scene.
A faint picture of Anya's dislocated arm flashes in my head, and I feel another lump in my throat all over again.
Dad is nowhere to be seen. I don't know when or where he left, but I hope he never comes back. The silence in the house is suffocating. Almost deafening, but at least it's safe. I refill my glass with water and gulp it down in one go. My throat still feels dry, no matter the number of glasses I've had. My chest feels tight.
I sit in deaf silence for minutes, hours, who knows? When the door opens and my father steps in. My eyes fall on him, and I feel the hate begin to build up all over again.
He doesn't look the same way he left. His hair is sticking up in every direction, while some strands are scattered across his forehead.
Half his shirt buttons are undone, and his cufflinks seem to be missing. He looks a mess. Like the world has clawed at him, and he didn't fight back.
I wish it were worse, though.
He didn't bat an eye when Anya was killed. But now he looks like he's lost to life.
I quickly get up, making my way out of the sitting room.
"Elena." His voice stops me in my tracks. My back is still to him. What on God's Earth has the man got to say?
"We've lost everything," his voice is rough, almost panicked. "The companies, the investments, all the contracts. They're all gone"
A bitter scoff escapes me. Of course. His daughter dies, but all he cares about is his empire. Why am I not surprised?
I turn around to face him, and I catch his eyes. Panic. Fear. For the first time ever, I can read the expressions in his eyes.
And I do what any other sane daughter would do.
I flip him the middle finger. "Go to hell, father."
I turn on my heel, storming away. I'm not ready to listen to any other disgusting thing the man has to say.
"Elena!" His voice booms behind me. I keep walking.
"Elena... stop!"
No.
"Listen to me, Elena!"
I don't.
"You're getting married!"
Those three words root me in place. My stomach drops. My heart slams against my ribs. It feels like the whole world is spinning around me.
I can't breathe.
What does he mean by that? Getting married? To whom?