𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥 | 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

12: 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐄𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠

After a long drive, Damien finally pulled up to a tiny bakery near Lake Baikal. He unbuckles his seat belt and we both got out of the car. The exterior of the bakery was beautiful, small and dainty. It doesn't look anything like a money laundering centre.

"Act casual please," Damien whispered into my ear, opening the ringing door for me.

I rolled my eyes and stepped in, "Fine." We walked up to the counter, an old woman was standing opening the shelf for some cupcakes.

"Dobriy den, my friend and I would like to buy some cupcakes. We also want to make a rather special purchase." The woman quickly nodded as soon as she got what Damien was implying.

(Good day)

A lean guy with ginger hair emerged from the fridge. The fucking fridge, and ushered us to follow him. The woman quickly packed a few cupcakes in a tray and handed it to us with a bag. "spasiba"

(Thank you)

I force out a fake smile and collect the bag from the woman. "Yeah, thanks." Damien catches me by surprise by holding the small of my back, leading me as we walked down the rancid corridor. "Get your hand off of me."

He sends me a casual glance, he then points to the weird men standing as we passed by a door. "Do you want to get grabbed by one of these fools?" He deeply chuckles, "and this place also smells rancid."

"Yeah, I knew a guy in ninth grade who smelt as bad as this. Nobody was his friend and I understood why." A quietly laugh to myself as someone opens the door.

Damien grins, "I can imagine you in high school, just as bitchy as you are now."

I frown, "Nah I think I'm a lot worse now." We finally come to the end of the long hallway and my jaw almost dropped as I take a look at the casino. You'd never think that there's an underground world within a bakery's fridge.

"What the fuck." Damien whispers as he looks at something up ahead. I'm too busy admiring the casino. Different colours of luminous lights brighten up the hall. Two floors of games and gambling fill my vision.

Businessmen and women are all gambling their lives away. They're all doing drugs and drinking large portions of alcohol. The thing about these people is that none of them look sketchy. "Why do they all look so...normal."

He turns to me, "créme de la créme type?" I nod my head in agreement but he smirks, "all aristocracy men are sketchy, Naomi. Apparently, Justin Bieber drinks children's blood."

I try and hold my laughter as we walk upstairs, we try and look for anything that might look like Ivan's office. But yet again, this casino was hidden in a fridge so this will be hard.

We walked around for a few minutes, discreetly monitoring the area for any unusual movements. Damien quickly tensed before leaning in to whisper in my ear, "I see someone I know, act cool."

I couldn't complain when a man comes up to us. He had dark brown hair on his head, cut low in a buzz cut. "Damien, it's nice seeing you, again." The man put out his hand and looked at it, but kept his hand in his pocket. I realized the man was oddly familiar.

"Ethan, how may I help you?" Damien poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, losing patience rather quickly. Instead of answering Damien, his eyes landed on me, doing a quick look over my face before grinning. Ah shit.

"Naomi, how are you doing?" He held out his hand for me to shake but I ignored it. Trying to remember where I know this man from. Damien looked between us weirdly before looking off to the side.

I tilt my head, "erm, where did we meet?"

"Oh the club, It was a couple of months ago and we danced together. Unfortunately, you declined my offer and didn't come home with me. Does that decision still stand?" He embarrassingly took his hand back and shoved it into his pocket.

My lips turn into a thin line, "yes my decision still stands." Memories from the day I finally agreed to go to the club with Scarlett flooded into my mind. I remember Ethan bothering me for a very long time.

Damien's grip on my back tighten, he then checked his watch and glared at Ethan. "We have to go. There's something I need to deal with."

The moment we exited the casino, I immediately pulled myself away from Damien's grip. He noticeably distanced himself from me too. His phone all of a sudden started ringing when we entered the car.

He picked it up and held the phone to his ear, with the ear in between his shoulder and cheek he revered. Holding my seat to get a better view, "Comment va Amélie?"

(How is Amélie?)

I can't hear the other person on the other end of the phone call but I can tell he doesn't enjoy their conversation. His knuckles are visibly turning white as he holds onto the steering wheel. "Bâtard égoïste, ne me fais pas venir en France père. Je ne suis pas rentré à la maison depuis un moment et vous savez que si je reviens, nous aurons beaucoup de problèmes."

(You selfish bastard, don't make me come to France, father. I haven't been home in a while and you know if I do come back we're going to have a whole lot of problems)

I try not to eavesdrop on the conversation but being fluent in French isn't helping. I look out the window at the people walking outside, trying to do anything but listen to his conversation.

Then he hits the steering wheel and my ears can't help but listen. "Si vous mettez un pied dans cet hôpital, vous serez pris isolé demain matin."

(If you step a foot in that hospital you'll be sniped by tomorrow morning)

"Damn," I mutter lowly, nearly a whisper until Damien looks directly at me. My eyes widened and I look the other way, muttering a 'my bad'.

He cuts the call as the other person starts yelling and he throws his phone into the cup holder. He then turns to me, "we have a problem. When I park in front of the door I need you to change into some proper clothes. I've already warned everyone else."

He runs a hand down his face and tilts his head. His Adam's apple bops lowly. I don't even question anything when he parks in front of his front door and runs inside.

What is going on?