The Darkness Within

Chapter Thirty Nine

Chapter Thirty Nine

"I have a proposition for you, Kirachka. One I hope you'll be keen on accepting." My uncle speaks the words with a palpable arrogance.

"A p-proposition?" I stutter, looking at Mikhail with what I hope are vulnerable, terrified eyes.

If he feels some sentimentality towards me, he'll want to protect that vulnerability as well as exploit it. I need him to think he can take advantage of my muddled mind in this state; to set groundwork for the compliant act I'm readying.

He nods his head. "You know, Kirachka, I was there the day you were born. I was the first person, outside of your parents, to hold you. It was already decided that you'd be given to a good Russian-American family looking to adopt, and I knew I had no business getting attached to you, but I couldn't resist holding you for a few moments. You were so tiny, so vulnerable, I wanted to protect you, just as your father did. We both failed you in that department."

Just as hoped, Uncle dearest is going to take advantage to the vulnerability I've shown; he'll want to put himself in a favorable standing in my eyes. He's also trying to gain my favor both by mentioning an early connection, and by accepting blame on the lack of protection I experienced.

If I want to make it look like I'm susceptible to switching sides, I need to push a narrative on my father; show interest in him, and remorse that I never knew him.

That shouldn't be too difficult, because I do feel flickers of regret at never having known him. I had that wish during my childhood, before I had to grow up abruptly post my adoptive parents' deaths. Even so, I feel no innate loyalty to Mikhail, despite our blood relation. Loyalty is earned, not given on principle, and from what I know of my uncle, he doesn't deserve my loyalty.

Since I learned of my father, Sergei occasionally tells me about him. The most prevalent thing I've found out about my father from Sergei is that he was a man of his word and someone who stuck to his few morals and principles religiously. Both things I inherited from him, despite never meeting him.

Looking into Mikhail's eyes, which are edged with cunning and deviousness, I can confidently deduce that he does not take after my father. Ravil would have never preyed on weak women; Mikhail and Damien make a lucrative business of it. I don't appreciate people who take advantage of the weak, probably because of my foster experiences. Over the course of the four years I was in the system, staying with a total of five families, no less than three males attempted to assault me. Two were foster fathers, one was a faster brother.

I've always been a light sleeper, so I'd wake up before they got the chance to touch me, and did a decent job of fighting them off; normally by calmly stating the ways I'd ruin their lives and families if they tried anything. Even as a young girl, I was well-spoken and knowledgeable, so most times the way I'd outline just how much damage I could do to them with nothing but a phone call was enough to make them back off. Even in my youth, the internet offered a wealth of knowledge on the law, and I learned quickly that speaking of it eloquently had a chance at protecting me.

There were only two times where words weren't enough; both times I managed to escape unharmed by pure luck, along with the help of my nails and teeth. I literally fought tooth and claw.

Women under Mikhail and Damien's thumbs aren't so lucky. They're well and truly helpless, resigned to their fates, which makes me want to destroy my uncle and his traitorous ally. While I had the option to call social services and trust that, even though I was young, I was clever enough to make social workers listen to me instead of my current foster parents, those women don't have any choices whatsoever. No system—faulty though it may be—to protect them.