Chapter 5 5

Rita Sokolov

His eyes are red, and I feel like the world is spinning. He pulls out his phone, looking straight at me. There are various tattoos on his neck, and I wonder, are there any more?

He saw me naked. God, he saw me naked! Despite that, I managed to embarrass myself by showing him that I care what he thinks. I can't do that. I don't want to do that, not with him.

He looks elegant, neat. His golden hair, a little messy, blue eyes, I don't know if I've ever seen that shade. White shirt, black long jacket, black pants, shoes and black gloves as ink.

I see he wants something from me. Does he want my help? And I'd rather die than help him.

"How did you manage to climb through the window?" I ask, drawing eyebrows together in confusion.

"Your window isn't that high. Now." he grinned. "You sure know Emily Motelli, don't you?" he asked. His perfect accent announced the whole room and I have to wonder if he is real at all.

Emily Motelli? That name sounds familiar to me, but I can't remember from where.

"I don't know her." I lied, moving to my bed where I sat. I put my hands behind me, leaning on them. He kept looking at me with those blue eyes that must be as deep as the ocean.

Butler nodded, smiling. "Of course you know her, she was your maid." he looked around the room.

"I don't know what you're talking about." That name is becoming more familiar to me, but something in my head can't put two and two together. But right now, I just want him out of my room, out of my house. I don't want to talk to him anymore unless he is chained to a chair while I slowly break his fingers.

"Do you not remember her?" He asked, flipping through his phone and then turning it over to me, showing me a clear picture.

I froze. The tingles went through me, and I don't know if I'm shaking or I'm dizzy. That woman, that brown-haired woman with green eyes, a prickly nose, and beautiful cheeks. I thought I would never see her again. She is smiling in the photo. Showing her slightly crooked teeth. Her curly hair was on her shoulder, while her eyes looked in a different direction. I don't know what I'm thinking about, what to think about. I'm so confused.

I looked up and saw Butler watching me. It's like he's reading me. I kept a cold expression on my face. "I know her. She was my maid when I was little, why does she matter?" I asked, feeling like I could barely breathe.

Butler moved the phone and put it in his pocket, taking a small breath. "She was killed."

Killed? How? Why? My parents told me that she went to serve another family. They said she left because she wanted to earn more to feed her sick mother.

I will never forget the day she left. I was 7 years old in my room. I was playing with wooden toys when Emily came in. She said she had to go, but that she would come back. She once told me, "Never leave until you say you're coming back." And I guess she cheated.

She was my first friend, my only friend in America. The only person I could open up to. But now she's gone, and I don't think I can look at her photo anymore.

"How do you know her?" I asked calmly. Almost.

Butler turned, walking over to my bookshelf. He studied them all slowly. From the cover, color, text, writer, language... He touched one and just shrugged.

"She was my maid too," he replied as it was the usual thing. She was his maid? That's why she left? So she serves Butlers? Why?! She knew the Butlers were our sworn enemies, but she left anyway. I'm so confused and angry and I think I'm going to explode at any moment, jump on him, maybe even kill him (it wouldn't be a shame thought).

I turned to the table, looking for the gun I had left, but it wasn't there. I heard deep laughter behind me.

"You're looking for something love?" I quickly turned around and saw Butler holding my gun in his hand. He twisted it on his finger as if it were a toy. "I already told you, if I wanted to kill you, I would do that differently. I have my methods for that."

I relaxed my shoulders and sat down on the bed again. I want answers! Why is he here? What does he want? Why is he so interested in Emily? How does he know where I live?

I looked at him one more time, but I was distracted by his tattoos. A large lion was on his neck. That must be the hallmark of his family. He had a knife, a rose, a skeleton...who knows what else he has.

Eric chuckled. "You like my tattoos. Maybe one day I'll let you see them. Everything." His voice is gentle, too gentle. He took a small metal box out of his pocket and took out a cigar and a lighter. Setting it on fire, he put it between his lips, putting the box back in his pocket. Thick smoke came out of his mouth that looked like it could swallow me.

I moved my hand away trying to move the smoke, but it came even closer to me. It's on my face, my hair, my body... it stinks. It's disgusting. It was as if all the smoke had swallowed me.

I opened my mouth to say, but I heard a knock on my door.

"Rita opened the door." Shit, my father. I quickly looked at Butler and pressed his cigar against his tender skin. I turned around, panicking. I never panicked, but now... now I feel like in those horror movies. Butler looked completely calm as if he was prepared for this.

I looked at my bed, giving him a sharp look. He shook his head like he was too proud to do something like that.

"Get in there!" I yelled-whispered, pointing to the bed. Butler rolled his eyes and quickly sank to the floor, crawling under the bed.

I exhaled, set my hair, and opened the door, ready for what would happen next.

"Aaa, Rita, udachi mne, tvoya mat' skazala mne, chto ty ustala, ty v poryadke? Krov' popala tebe v glaza? ("Aaah, Rita, good luck to me, your mother told me you were tired, are you okay? Did you get blood in your eyes?)" My father asked me, entering my room deeper, scanning my face for some kind of injury or bruise.

"I'm fine, papa, thank you for coming to check on me," I said, moving his hands that touched my eyes.

"I saw how you looked when Preston gave the speech about little Kira. I know it's all hard on you, as it is on all of us. But you have to be strong." My father pokes me on the shoulders, making me giggle like a little kid. "The past follows us all our lives, but we have to learn how to face it. How not to let it affect us as much as it would like to."

Nodding my head. I try to push out all the memories I don't want to remember. But they come back like a boomerang.

I give him a small smile, expecting him to leave. But he's not leaving. He sniffed like he was trying to feel something.

Fuck.

"Did you smoke?" he asked me in Russian, looking at me sharply. "You know what happened last time, you almost choked on all that smoke."

"No, no, papa, I swear, it was probably brought by the wind," I said pointing to the open window Butler left opened. Thank you so much, shithead.

Father nodded and walked across the room to my window, passing by my bed. Fuck, Butler's hand was peeking out from under it. I ran quickly, stepping on his hand, which he immediately removed. My father turned and walked towards me.

"Try to get some rest for tomorrow. I know the music is too loud, but tonight, as Preston said, we celebrate his daughter. After all, she deserved it." he smiled a little. "I've found another assignment for you, and I know you won't let me down." he kissed my forehead. "Good night, my little carica." he said and closed the door.

"You can go out now," I shouted and turned to see Butler already standing in front of me. His figure is perfectly depicted in the moonlight.

"You have a very strong blow for one girl," he said, holding his hand I had just hit. It's red, maybe a little purple. Perfect.

"What were you talking about?" he asked innocently. Oh, you know exactly what we were talking about. "What language was that Slovak, Polish...?"

"Russian," I answered sweetly, knowing that he was deliberately teasing me. "Well this was great, but I think it's time to go and never come back."

He laughed. "Oh love, we have so much work to do, but you know what? This is your first night and I'm going to let you rest. Come with me tomorrow..."

This time I laughed at him. "No."

"Don't you care what happened to Emily? I know it was a long time ago, but I also know you were very close."

"I don't want people to see me, especially not with you," I answered. But i want to find Emily's killer.

"Don't worry, no one will see us. Come to the corner of 23rd Street, you'll see the door on the left, you just have to say the password and you'll come in."

"What's the password?"

Butler chuckled darkly and for a moment I wished I hadn't heard the answer. "The password is 'Sânii mei sunt mari.'"

His laughter is suspicious to me, as is the password. I don't know what it means, but I don't think I like it. He approached me, gently taking my hand in his. Brought it closer to his lips, he kissed my hand gently.

Slowly approaching the window, he looked through it, probably checking to see if anyone was coming. He looked at me once more and grinned.

"See you next time, love. And, oh, your books are suck."

"Go to hell." I hissed.

Eric just laughed. "I'm waiting for you there." And then he jumped. I don't know when, I don't know where, I don't know how, but he succeeded. He managed to ruin my life.