03. desire or danger

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[03]
"to shake hands with the devil."

ALENA DIDN'T KNOW what was more frightening, to know that it is the end or not to. But this, this felt like the end. The end of everything, the start of the nothing.

"Before you kill me, let me write a letter to my family, it is the only thing I will ask for." Alena begs, she was in a confided and cold room.

For the men that had kidnapped her were middle aged steel workers, Orlov Smith and Aiden Nikolaev. They had brought her to an abandoned factory in London where they held their secret political meetings and organised strikes.

Orlov and Aiden were well known violent extremists, second generation Russian immigrants that had strong political views about their homeland, — including an immense hatred for the upper class— especially the royal family after the revolution.

They were already on the police's radar.

"Half your family is dead, you know that." Aiden spits harshly. "Your mother and father have been assassinated and rightfully so, they ruined Russia."

Alena shakes her head, holding back her anger. "No, no they are alive, I know it! They loved Russia with their whole life!—"

"Soon enough you'll meet them in hell." Orlov scoffs wickedly, tightening the rope around her hands.

"You bastard! They gave their whole life to the motherland!—"

Orlov grabs the duchess's face aggressively, "Yet they couldn't put bread in the mouths of the hungry! They let their own soldiers who fought for their country rot in the streets!"

She glares at him, breathing heavily, her blue eyes on his. "You never knew them, you don't know their hearts."

He laughs wickedly. "All you people are the same. Greedy self seeking pigs."

"Mama and papa wanted the best for Russia and it's people!" Alena defends.

Orlov stares at her with a menacing look on his face, his thumb traces her soft lips gently. "We will torture you until we get what we want from your people."

Alena gulps. There was no denying she was petrified. Yet she put on a brave face, she refused to be a coward, even in her final days.

"If we do not receive a negotiation from your family and this government in forty eight hours, we will kill you." Aiden adds, showcasing the black pistol in his hand.

Alena looks him dead in the eye. "I have lived an acceptable life to God and man. What comes after does not scare me." She snarls. "But know this, my death means yours is certain. You will not go free for this."

Silence. Long enough to hear the crows squabble outside and the distant sound of a train. Her words rang in Orlov's brain like a church bell, over and over again.

"Blindfold her and lock her up, get the bitch out of my sight." He spits.

And so they did, dragging the young duchess away despite her screams and protests. No matter how hard she fought them, they fought harder. It was a losing battle. And for all Alena knew, or anyone knew, she could be dead tomorrow.

•••

The wind was howling violently and the sky was a pale early morning blue.

Tatiana had arrived.

She stood confidently on the Shelby estate, waiting. That wait felt like forever, as if everything depended on it— maybe because it did. It was now or never. The be all or end all. Everything came down to this very minute.

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