#1 | The Aftermath - Phantom Rider Series

#32 | Bunny and Fox

Yekaterinburg, Russia

"Welcome home, Mrs. Rothschild!" 

"Please, call me Miss Petrova, thank you!" Mila replied trying to erase any connection with Matt from her title.

She walked up the curved stairs to the mansion's entrance. Large marble columns decorated the grand estate - it was a typical rich European home. The massive, light-colored building was decorated with well-thought-out details, arches, and sculptures, covered in gold. Gated by perfectly decorated gardens, the house could easily be taken for castle.

And Mila, of course, was the princess. The one that waited for her prince to come and rescue her, though in this tale, she might be cursed never to be with the love of her life. Sleeping Beauty, perhaps? Or was she the wicked witch, deserving of her fate?

The house held countless memories - many joyful, but even more horrific. Yet, despite it all, it was her childhood home, and she felt nostalgic walking through the marble halls, smelling the same scent from childhood, seeing her old things in her room that had been kept in perfect condition ever since she left.

Mila's POV

"Welcome home, honey!" my father said, rushing towards me with a broad smile and leaning in for a warm hug. 

"Hello..." for some reason I did hug him back. For me, he was a very confusing man. He was ice-cold most of the time, unreachable, without any emotions, scary, and extremely manipulative, but once he got what he wanted, he became overly nice. 

This was the reason I always checked people's emotional state before talking with them. You can never know what day it will be - the bad or the good one. Matt was similar, the only difference between my dad and him was that Matt was a monster at home, while my dad was a monster outside the home. 

Bill never wavered like that in his emotions. Bill... 

My throat got stiff, unable to swallow saliva. I felt my lungs constrict, making it difficult to draw air into them. "Breathe in with me, now breathe out. Slowly. You are safe now. Breathe in. Breathe out." I heard his voice at the back of my head, and his palm on my chest warm. 

I was tired of crying, but tears didn't stop... I hugged my dad closer, looking for comfort in my heartbreak. I didn't care who hugged me. I just wanted someone to prevent me from falling to the ground and shattering like expensive porcelain glass. 

"Why can't I be with him, Dad? He is rich, he is reputable, he can take care of me, just give him a chance!" I begged like a little child. 

He pushed me away. There was no warmth in his eyes. "And this is the reason, Mila, you cannot be with him. Look at yourself, he makes you pathetic. He makes you weak and miserable. I can't have you like this. This is not how I raised you to be." He continued, "Besides, once he knows what you did, you will be lucky that I took you here. I am doing this for you, to protect you from him." 

He was right, always right. But I didn't mind. If Bill wanted, he could kill me, and if the bullet came from his gun, I would be fine with that. Just don't bring me back to Matt to die in a slow, torturous death. 

I looked at the balcony doors... memories crossing my mind. 

A little girl played on the blanket outside the house backyard with her toy rabbit and fox. "Here, Bunny, I brought you carrots for dinner, I know you like carrots... " sudden noise made her turn her head to the house. 

"You cannot keep me here forever! I am taking Mila with me, and we are leaving!" she screamed. Loud slap, another one. Third. Silence. Woman's whines and cries echo in large halls of the house. 

"Fox, thanks for the carrots, now you can come into my house, we will close the doors so no one comes in, okay?" the girl continued playing. 

Screams. Sound of breaking items. "Want me to die? You want to kill me? Fine, I'll help!" hysterical voice of woman suddenly got silenced with loud crushing noise. 

Little girl put aside her bunny and fox. Took her "carrots" and loaded them in the gun laying next on the blanket. Today was the day little girl will go and kill her father. She walked across the backyard, looked under the balcony at the mother sleeping in warm blood puddle. She kissed her mom goodbye and went in holding gun tight in her tiny palms shaking. Little girl never killed her dad, he was too tall, too scary and he was only person she had now.

I kept looking at the balcony door. What if I do the same? Will it be over then?

But the little girl never lowered the gun in her arms. She just waited for the right moment to shoot. She would never jump, because the little girl had her father's blood in her. She was a killer, a predator, and just like her father, she knew how to turn off emotions. 

So she turned them off. Completely. The lights went out, her eyes turned same crystal cold as his.