Arranged To Be|18+✔️

'11

My whole frame began to shake as I patted the ground in front of me and slowly began to crawl, hoping that I would be able to find an exit and get out. People were still screaming and Czar had not said anything since the last gunshot. I was becoming more and more worried.

"Czar!" I called as I crawled.

Suddenly my hand landed in a pile of some random thick substance. I lifted my hand to smell it, and a metallic tang hit my nose. It was blood. I choked back a sob.

"Oh God," I cried, wiping the blood on my dress. "Czar!"

"I'm here!" he finally called back, his voice closer now. "Stay where you are. Don't move. Don't talk."

I clamped my mouth shut and waited, my body trembling. Screams still echoed around me. I covered my ears and began to rock back and forth on the floor like a child. I didn't care how it looked—I was terrified.

Eventually, the lights flickered back on. I slowly uncovered my ears and blinked up into the harsh glow.

Czar stood over me, blood covering his shirt and arms. A handgun dangled from his fingers.

"We've got to get out of here," he said, reaching down and lifting me from the ground.

"What's going on?" I sobbed.

"We just have to go."

He practically carried me out of the building and into the limo that had been waiting outside. Once inside, he tore off his bloody suit jacket and shirt, tossing them to the floor.

I sat there, shaking, my breaths coming out fast and shallow. My eyes landed on the smeared blood on my dress. My hands trembled. I couldn't breathe. Everything was closing in.

"Zariah?" Czar said.

I couldn't answer. Couldn't look away from my hands.

"Zariah!"

He gripped my hands and brought my gaze to his face. His features blurred through my tears.

"You're having a panic attack," he said gently, placing his hand on my cheek. "Breathe. I'm right here."

He pulled me to his chest. His voice was low, calm, steady. I focused on his breathing, trying to match it with mine. Slowly, my lungs loosened. My hands steadied.

"I didn't know you had anxiety," he said softly.

"How do you know that I do?" I whispered, still not looking at him.

"I saw it. When I left the table, I noticed your breathing. I saw you heading to the bathroom... I was going to follow you, but the lights cut off. And just now—you had a panic attack. I've seen it before."

I said nothing. It was true. I'd had anxiety since I was a child. I thought I had it under control. Therapy helped. Until now.

I wiped my face and leaned back from him, feeling hollow.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I was ambushed," he said, rubbing his forehead. "Didn't even have time to react before someone attacked me. Thank God you went to the bathroom. If they'd seen you—"

"They would've killed me," I finished, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Zariah... I never would've brought you if I knew this would happen."

"It's not your fault," I said quietly.

But even as I said it, I couldn't stop the thought from spiraling: What has my life become?

~

I sat on the shower floor, arms wrapped tightly around my knees. The water was warm but did nothing to ease the chill inside me. My mind wouldn't stop replaying the blood on my hands. Czar's voice calling for me. The screams. The bang.

I hadn't said a word to him since we returned. I walked straight to my room, locked the door, and turned on the shower.

He knocked a few times. I didn't answer.

I couldn't face him. Not after seeing what he'd done—what he had to do. That wasn't normal. None of this was.

I wished I could go back to before all of this. Before the contract. Before the deal. Before Czar Kuzmich.

I wanted to hate my father again. Wanted to blame him for everything. For signing my life away. For not fighting harder for me. For leaving me no choice.

Tears flooded my eyes, and I let them fall freely, sobbing like a child.

This wasn't the life I imagined. I was supposed to fall in love. Marry someone by choice. Raise kids. Grow old. Not survive shootouts and panic attacks at business galas.

Eventually, I stood and turned off the shower. I wrapped myself in a towel and padded to my bed, too exhausted to dress. My limbs felt heavy, my heart even heavier.

A knock at the door.

I opened it slowly to find Czar standing there in nothing but sweats.

"You okay?" he asked, eyes searching mine.

I nodded, then tried to close the door, but he stopped it with his foot.

"Zariah—"

"I want to be alone." I shoved his foot back and shut the door quickly, locking it.

I heard him muttering something in Russian as he walked away.

Then silence.

I slid down to the floor and cried harder than I had in years.

~

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