One hundred reasons to leave

Chapter 3. Roman

“Rom, did you hear? Moroz got married yesterday,” my friend and deputy said with a sneer as he walked in.

I looked up from my papers and leaned back in my chair.

“They say she’s a beauty — twenty years old, from a wealthy family…”

“And why the hell would a beauty from a wealthy family marry crazy Moroz? Love, really?” I asked mockingly. “Doubt it. More likely he blackmailed the girl or just put her before a fait accompli, and the poor thing couldn’t get out of it. Or maybe she’s just another mercenary whore.”

Morozov is a very interesting figure in our criminal world. He owns casinos, clubs, and restaurants. He has influence over a small town in the Moscow region. And recently, information surfaced that he holds auctions and sells girls — sometimes minors. He’s also started dealing in illegal substances, which, to put it mildly, I don’t tolerate. Everything in the Moscow region should go through me. But he’s decided to act dirty, cunningly, and he’s overstepping his bounds — getting way too cocky. People like that need to be dealt with immediately. But! These could just be rumors, so I always check every piece of news and gossip personally, no matter how far‑fetched.”

“Her father decided to merge businesses with Moroz,” Vitek sat down across from me and smirked. “They say the girl has a temper…” Vitek continued. “To give his own daughter to such a scumbag…”

“Vitya, I don’t give a damn what’s going on with him. He can screw his whole village for all I care. But tell me, why do I even need this information?”

“Well, Rom, my point is there’s an excuse to get into his house. We’ve been wanting to do that without raising suspicion. Now we can stop by to congratulate him and take a discreet look around.”

That was an idea… and why hadn’t I thought of it myself? It’s high time to check and find out what skeletons he’s got in his closet.

“I’ve already arranged it — we’re leaving in half an hour,” Vitek said.

I chuckled.

“You’re good — not wasting any time.”

---

Three hours later, we pulled up to a three‑story private house. Moroz personally came out to greet us. He shook hands and started telling me how his business was going.

“We didn’t come here on business,” I said, clapping Ruslan on the shoulder. “Tell me, how’s married life? How was the wedding night?” I grinned openly, mocking him, but doing it in a way he wouldn’t realize.

“Great! I think we can expect heirs soon.”

I heard a quiet mutter behind me: “God forbid.” I glanced behind my back and saw a very beautiful girl in an open silk dress. Her entire neck was blue, her shoulders and collarbones covered in purple bruises. She had a black eye, a split eyebrow and lip. Her dark hair was pulled into a high bun.

A surge of anger rose inside me. Moroz clearly hadn’t held back with her. The girl was small and slender — how could anyone raise a hand against someone like that?

Ruslan’s expression changed as soon as he turned and looked at his wife. I could see in his eyes that the girl was in for it as soon as we left.

“She’s so beautiful — can’t take my eyes off her,” I said truthfully, without sarcasm. “Who did this to you, birdie?” I asked the visibly paling girl.

She unexpectedly raised her eyebrows and looked at me first with fear in her eyes, then it turned to anger. Surprising…

“I fell,” she said clearly, looking straight at me.

“Like her?” Moroz suddenly turned toward me. “Agreed, she’s beautiful. By the way, I’m not greedy. Roman Vitalyevich, would you like to try my wife? She’s pure, barely touched…”

The girl recoiled and grabbed the railing. Animal fear appeared in her eyes.

“Tempting offer,” I found myself starting to consider it. I raked the girl up and down with an appraising look. Then a brilliant idea came to mind. “I think I’ll take you up on that — she’s a real kitty, hard to find another like her.”

Moroz gritted his teeth — he’d wanted to scare his wife, thinking I wouldn’t agree? Well, f**k you.

“No!” the girl declared loudly, looking me in the eyes with anger, hatred, and fear.

“Shut up, b***h!” Moroz growled through clenched teeth. “You’ll do as he says — and just try not to obey…” He warned her and pushed her up the stairs. She stumbled and started to fall.

“I’ve got her,” I caught the girl gently by the waist and led her away. Moroz burned us with a jealous, angry glare, then invited my men to the table and left.

The girl was visibly shaking. A drop of sweat appeared on her neck. Her lips trembled, and shiny tears welled up in her eyes.

She barely made her way into the room, and I followed. I closed the door and turned toward the girl.

She stood there, shaking and hugging her bare shoulders.

“What’s your name?” I asked, taking off my jacket and unfastening my cufflinks. No, I wasn’t going to touch her. I needed to get ready. While my men distracted Moroz, I had to search the place. The girl’s gaze immediately fell on the gun in my shoulder holster.

“Evelina,” she said quietly, glancing at me from under her brows.

“You really got it bad last night, Evelina…”

The girl pressed her lips together and abruptly turned away, sniffing.

“There’s plenty more nights like that ahead… maybe even worse.”

I quietly approached her from behind and placed my hands on her frail shoulders. My palms seemed enormous on them.

“Everyone has their own fate. Unfortunately, you’ve had bad luck. I won’t touch you. But in return, I ask you to stay quiet about this and about me walking around the house. Alright?” In truth, I didn’t care if she told anyone. The main thing was for her to keep quiet now.

The girl abruptly turned and looked at me differently. With hope, maybe?

“No. In return, I ask you to help me get out of here,” she declared firmly, looking me in the eyes. A second ago she was shaking with fear, and now she was making demands?

“And what if I change my mind and just take you?” I smirked.

“Help me. And I’ll help you,” she ignored my rudeness.

“How will you help me?” I narrowed my eyes, staring straight into her green eyes.

“Well… I overheard something… Moroz is dealing drugs. And all his product is in the basement of some old house. But I really don’t know where… But I do know there’s a whole pack of some weed and a few bags of powder in his office desk… I think he uses it himself…” She looked at me with eyes like the cat from *Shrek*.

“And if you’re wrong? What will you pay with then?” I cast a quick glance at her neat, small chest.

“Anything! Just get me out of here, please! He’ll kill me at this rate…” she whispered, wiping away tears.

“Everyone has their own fate, I told you,” I replied indifferently. The girl was certainly beautiful, but should I rescue every girl I come across?

“Please! I’ll do anything! Whatever you want! Just help!” She grabbed my shoulders in a death grip and looked at me pleadingly.

“Alright,” I shook her hands off and stepped back, straightening my clothes. “Tell me where his office is. And if I actually find what you said there, I’ll help you escape so Moroz won’t look for you.”

The girl exhaled in relief and explained how to get to the office.

And who knows why I suddenly decided to show mercy. And she’s a fool — doesn’t she see how Moroz is crawling before me? Hasn’t she wondered who I am? Hasn’t she realized I’m even worse than her husband? Stupid girl. Reckless. Emotional and hot‑tempered.

Anything she says she’ll do! Stupid! Her tongue is clearly her enemy. Can’t keep her mouth shut at all. To say something like that to a gangster?!