The Last Hope

15

Selina

The rain beats against the large windows of the living room as I pace around since Sasha left, night has fallen, and we put the children to bed with Nikolaï. I sigh, stopping once again in front of the window overlooking the garden, the shadows of the tall windows and trees dance on the pool, "don't worry, I'm sure she's fine. Sasha will find her soon," says Nikolaï from the kitchen, holding a glass of water and my painkillers. I thank him and swallow the pills, gripping the glass in my hand, the pain in my fingers has become secondary amidst everything happening; I had forgotten to take my medication, unlike Nikolaï.

"What if something happened to her?" I ask in a small voice as the worst scenarios flash before my eyes—blood, so much blood, like eight years ago.

I enter the hotel room, breathless, still dressed in my nurse uniform, the door closes softly behind me with a small click indicating its lock. I look down the dark corridor leading to the suite's living room, shrouded in darkness. There is no sound, only the noise of cars passing on the road twenty-six floors below, my eyes are drawn to the light escaping from under a door, and my heart tightens with fear as I approach slowly and push the door open with a trembling hand.

A gasp escapes me as all I see is red—on the floor, on the bed, blood, the man on the floor with a small pair of scissors planted in his throat. My eyes suddenly lower to a sniffing sound behind the door, and time slows as I see my sister curled up against a wall, her clothes soaked in blood. "Sienna..." I murmur, rushing to her side.

I place my hand on her knee, and she startles, her eyes red and wide, she's in shock, "Selina," she recognizes me, her lips trembling, "I... I didn't want it, Selina. He... he tried to touch me. I said no, Selina! I swear I said no! But he didn't listen; he hit me; he tried to... to...". I hold her close, stroking her hair, "shh, shh, you're okay, Sienna. Everything will be okay. Calm down," I reassure her as tears well up. She's only sixteen, oh my God, what are we going to do?

"Well, I didn't think it would end like this. It's even better than I thought," a voice suddenly echoes behind us, making both of us jump, I quickly stand up, placing myself in front of my sister and freeze as I see Antonio Rasili standing near the door, hands in his pockets, a smirk on his face. "I think you're now ready to negotiate, Selina," he says, advancing towards me, enveloping me in his darkness.

"Selina?" Nikolaï suddenly calls, pulling me out of my dark thoughts, "are you okay? You look pale. I'll call the doctor; he'll give you something stronger for the pain," he says, taking out his phone. However, I shake my head, placing the glass back down and grabbing his wrist without thinking, "no, don't call. I'm fine. I'm just worried about my sister." His eyes shift from mine to my lips, which my tongue moistens involuntarily, "I hate seeing you like this, Solnychko," he says softly, gently taking my frozen hand around his wrist in his warm one.

There it is again, that tenderness that calls to my vulnerability, I should push him away, build my walls to protect myself, or what's left of me. But I can't. This tenderness, this protection he makes me feel, it's like a vital need, I want to bury myself in this warmth and find rest. I'm so tired of fighting every day, trying to survive, protect my son and sister. Maybe that's why I don't move as his second hand slides against my cheek, and I close my eyes, letting myself lean into his warmth.

I also don't move when I feel his breath on my face, his nose against my temple, gently inhaling as his lips glide over my cheek. "Selina... push me away, tell me to stop," he murmurs as his lips approach mine.
He's right; I should push him away, stop him. I'm leaving in a few weeks, and he's not the man I need, especially after escaping the clutches of an Italian mob. But I can't. "I can't," I whisper, squeezing his hand between my fingers as his lips brush against mine.