One hundred reasons to leave

Chapter 9. Roman

Her lips are so soft, so tender. And kissing her is like…

I don’t even get a chance to savour the moment with the girl when the phone starts ringing in that irritating way.

I tear myself away from her tempting lips, grab the phone with one hand, and with the other hold Evelyn’s slender waist as she relaxes in my arms.

“What the hell?” I growl into the receiver.

“Morozov sold several girls abroad! In metal containers, like some kind of livestock. All the girls are either orphans or from a children’s home. Their names have all been changed. And he got a shipment of coke and weed from Mexico.”

As my friend rattles off all this, an uncontrollable thirst for blood rises in my chest. Without thinking, I clench my hands into fists, and a second later I hear a muffled groan of pain. I immediately loosen my grip and look at Lina’s face. A tear rolls down her cheek, and she presses her palms against my shoulders, trying to pull away.

“s**t! I’m sorry! Where does it hurt?” I ask, scanning her fragile figure. The girl just glances silently at my hand resting on her waist.

“Akim! Are you even listening to me? This bastard has gone too far! I sent some guys over there, but I need you now. We need to discuss a plan.”

I’m only half‑listening to my friend’s frantic words; right now, an overwhelming sense of guilt for hurting the girl — even unintentionally — is all I can think about.

“I’ll be there in half an hour,” I say, cutting him off, and hang up. I put the phone in my pocket.

“Let me go,” she says quietly but firmly. I don’t want to let her go, but still, I loosen my fingers and step back. She immediately staggers and starts to fall backward. I catch her right away and pull her close. I hear another muffled groan, then a sob.

“That’s enough,” I declare firmly, pick her up, and carry her to the room. To my surprise, Evelyn says nothing, just sits there silently, waiting to see what happens next.

I lay her gently on the bed and go to the table with the medical supplies. I take out a syringe and vials of painkiller. I draw the liquid into the syringe and walk over to the frightened girl with it. She crawls back toward the headboard and looks at me like a trapped animal.

“What is that?” she whispers through dry lips.

“It’s a painkiller. Lie on your stomach,” I say calmly but firmly, making it clear that I won’t accept any objections. The girl stays silent for a long time, fixing me with a distrustful stare. I wait patiently for her decision. Finally, she nods slowly, crawls closer, and lies on her stomach, hissing in pain.

I pull her pants down a little, exposing her beautiful, curvy backside. As I give her the injection, I can’t help but get lost in the moment, imagining taking this girl from behind.

“She’s in pain! Get a grip, Akimov!” I mentally slap myself for having such thoughts.

I shake my head to clear the haze, pull the needle out of her delicate skin, and press a cotton swab to the spot.

“Go to sleep,” I say curtly, getting up from the bed. She hisses as she rolls onto her back and looks at me strangely.

“Will you be gone long?” she asks timidly. I study her, trying to memorise every freckle and curve. The bruise under her eye is still purple, but it’s slowly turning yellow. Even with that shiner, she looks like a damn queen of beauty. What have I come to… I need to distract myself urgently. I’ll go see Irina tonight, calm down, and then I won’t touch this troublesome girl again.

“That’s none of your business. Sleep,” I say coldly and leave the room, fully convinced that the obsession will fade after a good night out.

---

The driver brought me to my club, where Karas was already waiting. I spent the whole ride thinking about her, unable to focus on anything else. What is it about her that’s so special?

“What took you so long?” Vitka nervously taps his foot, shooting me an annoyed look. I walk into the VIP lounge and take a seat across from him.

“Let’s get down to business. Did you come up with anything?” I ignore his question because I won’t lie to him, and I don’t want to tell him the truth — not right now.

“I did. We take him out, and that’s the end of it,” he replies confidently. The adrenaline in his system is clearly clouding his judgment.

“It won’t work. He’s got connections with foreigners — he’s supplying them with girls and buying drugs from them. They’ve got too much leverage,” I say, unexpectedly pulling myself back to the matter at hand. I start focusing on the real issues. Thoughts of the girl finally fade into the background, though they still linger somewhere in the back of my mind.

Karas nods in agreement.

“So what do we do?” he asks, tossing back another glass of whiskey.

“We keep an eye on him and stop any further dealings with the foreigners. Buy off his security. And if they refuse, line the dissenters up and take them out one by one until the rest accept the ‘offer’.” Or rather, the order… I think I’m losing my edge. I’ve become too soft.

My friend nods again.

“Moroz is denying everything. He won’t agree to the divorce. He’s demanding his wife back,” he says quietly, watching my reaction.

“Has he lost his mind?” I sneer, already imagining breaking his bones one by one. He’s completely forgotten to be afraid.

“I think he’s planning something. Maybe he wants to kidnap her… I don’t know, but something feels off,” he says. I’m only half‑listening as I dial the bastard’s number.

“Hello?” His confident voice comes through the line.

“Have you lost your mind, Moroz? We went over all this, didn’t we? Or have you forgotten how to be scared? I want the divorce papers signed and on my desk by tomorrow.”

“But what about — she’s my wife, I have the right—” His voice is already hoarse — is he scared?

“You don’t have any rights. Everything you have is because of me. Want to end up homeless? It was stupid of me to threaten you with a bullet. Death isn’t the worst thing — a life of suffering is, and I can make sure you get exactly that!” I bark, then hang up. In a fit of rage, I slam my fist down on the glass table with all my strength. It shatters instantly, scattering shards in every direction. I breathe heavily and lift my gaze to my friend. He’s staring at me with wide eyes.

I shake out my injured hand and grab the phone again. I dial a familiar number.

“I’ll be there in an hour,” I say flatly and hang up.

“Going to see her again?” my friend asks, handing me some antiseptic and a bandage. I nod and start silently tending to the cuts.

“How’s Evelyn doing?” Karas asks unexpectedly. I snap my gaze to him. Why does he even care?

“She’s fine!” I snarl. Everything keeps circling back to this girl. It’s been three damn days already. Every thought, every conversation somehow leads back to her. My head is about to explode! I don’t want to think about this “poor thing” anymore.

After bandaging my hand, I get up from the couch and head for the door.

“Keep an eye on her. I’m going to take a couple of days off to rest.” My idea of “resting” meant getting laid, with eating and sleeping in between. I’d reset and stop thinking about Lina — about her pretty, delicate face, her perfect figure, and her smooth, milky skin.

Damn it!