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I'm in her penthouse, I can't get myself to not come here everyday. It smells like her.
Her pillows smell like her shampoo and her blankets smell like cherries. I come here everyday to talk to her, as if she is deceased.
This place just has so much of her I can't stop myself. I know she's still alive, I saw that video I received from an unknown number. Daniel claimed that the number was untraceable because the video was sent from an old model. It was one from the past century's and there wasn't a tracing mechanism inserted in those kind of phones yet. However, I denied him and decided to take matters into my own hands.
People don't know the importance of certain matters in your life, because they're not where you are and not feeling what you're feeling.
He gave up easily because he doesn't know how important that number is for me. I got my laptop set up in her room got my things ready.
I work for hours on head, my eyes burning with almost two weeks of no sleep. Daniel was right about the number and the video is blurry and doesn't have enough quality for me to scan it and locate the lactation and date it was taken.
I shut my laptop harshly in anger. This will not fucking work, Volkov is too less of an idiot to give me clues and leave a gap for me to manoeuvre into where he kept my girl.
I think I should talk a language that he understands.
. . .
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I was told I'm going to the club today. A classy lady came into mines and Kim's room and told us both to get ready. She gave us "clothes" to wear.
I finished showering after Kim and we make small talk while we get dressed.
"Don't act impulsively." She said, "look where that got you." A face of bruises and a sore ankle. Probably sprained. "Can't promise that one." I sigh. "Come on, Aia." She breathes disappointedly. "You'll get yourself killed." She looks at me with those sad green eyes.
"That would be better." I breathe. "Honestly."
. . .
We finished getting dressed, I was given a tiny black dress and stiletto heels. Kim is dressed in a skin-tight mini-skirt and a cropped shirt, that only covers her boobs. She's wearing the same heels she wore the other day, but I'm way taller than her while we're both in heels.
