Kaya Chinaider
Lesly and I are hauled from the shed by two armed men. I'm drenched all over except for the black shirt forced on me by Venom, a brutish, cruel, sadistic thug unlike any I've ever had the misfortune to meet.
"Should we escort them, boss?"
One asks GB, who eyes Lesly and I with a grin.
"I think I can handle it, these two Barbies don't look too dangerous to me."
He holds open the door of a sleek black sports car for us to get in. I sit in the back with Lesly as he drives through the hilly neighborhood toward a location unknown to me; the streets are narrow, the alleys dark, and the people we pass look on with suspicion.
"Welcome home."
GB opens the door; I step out first and then offer Lesly a hand as she grips the door, her eyes closed, deathly pale.
"Hey sweetie, you okay?"
He picks Lesly up, and she wraps her arms around his neck — he appears concerned. Of all the people in this wretched place, he's the only one showing a hint of compassion. GB opens the door to a house, small with pastel walls, simply furnished but clean and organized—much, much better than the filthy, grimy shed we were in.
"Want some water?"
He offers, and Lesly manages a smile—the first since we've arrived.
"I'm good."
GB steps back.
"I sent the boys to get the stuff you requested, fruits, veggies, some yogurt, and that weird-named fish."
"Salmon?"
"Yeah, that Solomon thing. For some reason, those south-zone jokers couldn't get the name right."
Lesly looks at me unsuccessfully suppressing a giggle.
"So there you have it."
He runs a hand through his hair.
"I'll be heading back to base. The kids will bring your things later. I asked them to buy some clothes and hygiene products—nothing fancy you're used to, but it'll get you by."
"Thank you," I say, and he nods.
"Get better soon, brunette."
He turns to Lesly, and while I'm no expert, he seems genuinely interested, which might be the only card we have to play. This place is fraught with danger, the people here menacing, and I don't know how long it'll be until Dad can get us out.
"Thanks, Gutemberg,"
Lesly utters sweetly, eliciting a goofy grin from him. He leaves the house looking over-the-moon, while Lesly settles on the couch, her expression fraught with worry.
"Kaya, what are we going to do?"
"I don't know; we can't just walk out of here."
I sit beside her.
"We can't confront these people."
I toss the black shirt onto the couch.
"Where did that come from?"
She inquires.
"The psychopath that works for GB drenched me with a hose."
"Did he hurt you?"
I shake my head.
"Just a poorly given bath."
I sniff my dusty, sweat-soaked clothing; Lesly watches me silently.
"I'm hungry."
She finally gives me a reason to smile, the medication taking effect.
"I'll get something; wait here."
I go to the kitchen and grab an apple from a bag the kids brought, and hand it to her when I return. She's already halfway through the apple when there's a knock on the door.
"What's up, blondie? GB sent these over."
A dark-haired, tanned boy hands me two huge bags which I take, hastily closing the door.
"What is it?"
"Clothes, sandals, toothbrushes, toothpaste."
I list off the contents while she observes.
"I like Gutemberg."
She blurts out and I'm taken aback.
"You like the trafficker who kidnapped us?"
"Of all of them, he's been the only nice one. We'd be lost without him."
She pulls out a pair of jean shorts and a red blouse from the bag.
"What do you think?"
"There's not much choice. We'd wear burlap sacks just the same."
I select an ivory set.
I step into the shower for a refreshing cleanse, washing my hair for the first time since arriving, feeling momentary relief from my turmoil. As I finish dressing, Lesly's scream rends the air.
"Kaya!"
She's planted in front of the TV, our family's faces plastered on the news.
"Russian Family Arrested Today in Rio de Janeiro."
She reads the caption and then looks at me.
"Members of the Uralmash criminal faction were arrested at one of Niteroi's ports in Rio de Janeiro today. A ship carrying arms and drugs from Ekaterinburg was intercepted in a joint operation by the port guard and Interpol. The group's leader, Jeremiah Chinaider, and his son, Ryan Chinaider, were apprehended while trying to flee the scene; along with them, fifteen other men were detained. According to police, two other family members are on the run—Lesly Chinaider and Kaya Chinaider are also wanted by authorities."
I collapse onto the couch, head in hands.
"Lesly."
She looks at me, her eyes brimming with tears.
"We're doomed."
"We have to leave at once, escape before Venom and his goons find out, otherwise the police will find us, they'll storm this hill."
I'm on my feet just as the door bursts open, Venom strides in flanked by GB and two others, his expression heralding nightmarish intent.
"Here we have mafia royalty, princesses, no less."
He smirks.
"You already know my payment plan's gone down the drain with your father's arrest. Let us go, and Lesly and I will disappear, you'll never hear from us again."
"What about my expenses for all this spectacle?"
He crosses his arms.
"Do you know how much your father's resistance cost me? How many men I lost because of him?"
We stand face to face, the tension electric. He reaches out and grips my face, forcing my mouth open, then leans in with a whisper.
"You belong to me now, blondie. You'll work off what you owe."
"I don't owe you anything!"
I counter angrily.
"You invaded my home, tore me from my family, and you think I owe you?"
He laughs, GB shooting me pleading glances.
"Don't test my patience."
He tightens his grip around my neck.
"Listen here, you b*tch. I've been nice so far, but if you make me lose it, I might forget my manners. Instead of settling your debt through service, you'll start repaying with your body, become a sexual plaything for me and my crew."
His gaze lacks any shred of decency; he tosses me onto the couch, scanning my body.
"Bet you'd have more uses, thank God you're not in front of my father—he'd have f*cked you by now to show you who's boss."
I curl up as Lesly clings to me, Venom heading for the door.
"You're working the party tomorrow night, both of you."
He points and yells at us.
"Serve my guests and wipe those tearful looks off your faces; I won't tolerate any foolishness."
The door slams shut, and the henchmen follow him out. Now, we are well and truly screwed.
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