Melissa
"Death? I already know what that is."
"So what? Will there really be a war?" And here we are again. What cruel irony. Again these two, again this house, this damn office, and once more I have to find a match. Because there's never just one box, right?
"Yes," Kirill answered.
"Shut up, I wasn't asking you." My gaze was fully fixed on Roman.
"You need to go back to the hospital. Things could go bad for you."
I scoffed and, with my left hand, tore the tape along with the needle, tossing the IV out the door. Gathering all my strength, I took a step forward, but I didn't close the door.
"Am I mistaken, or will it be you who's feeling unwell soon?" I smirked and walked slowlyâperhaps too slowlyâtoward the table. "Kirill, leave."
"You can't give me orders."
"Oh, really?" I raised an eyebrow and pushed the chair aside. "As long as I'm the lady of this house, I'm your momma, Kirill, so get your angry butt out and close the door from the other side."
I bent over slightly from the pain but still saw Roman nod towards Kirill, who hurried out. Just before he did, I heard him whisper to me, "I'll be waiting for you in the living room, baby."
I let myself frown and start breathing heavily as the door shut. Damn. Roman immediately jumped up from his seat and stood beside me.
"Leave me alone." I tried to brush him off.
"Stop playing the stoic hero for one damn minute and tell me where it hurts."
"There's something fundamentally wrong with you."
"Because of you."
I rolled my eyes as he picked me up.
"Is it a new tradition to carry me around? I mean... I wasn't shot in the legs." I didn't resist as he carried me further into the office like a bride. Roman sat me on the table, standing between my legs, towering over me.
"But you nearly died."
"Does that concern you?"
"Oh, God, aren't you tired of hating me yet?" he exhaled, with both hands in his pockets. I studied his face. Huge dark circles under his eyes, his cheekbones hollow as if he hadn't eaten or slept in days. I frowned. "You... were worried."
"Of course."
"Why?"
"God, Melissa." He leaned in, looking into my eyes. "Don't you understand that even though you once broke my heart, made me hate you, I wouldn't be able to live on this earth if you weren't on it."
I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe.
"Me? I broke your heart? Seriously?"
"It wasn't me pretending to be happy and then telling my mother I hate my husband."
"What?"
"I heard your conversation with your mom. I heard everything."
I tried to understand what he was talking about, but it took me a moment to piece it together. Then everything clicked. The last piece fell into place. I remembered my final conversation with my mother many years ago.
***
Five Years Ago...
I kept pacing around the room Roman and I shared, staring at my phone screen. My mom had called me five times already. She hadn't done that even once since I left her home a year ago, and now I was curious why she was reaching out after all this time.
But when the phone started vibrating in my hand again, curiosity won, and I pressed the button and brought the phone to my ear.
"Hello, sweetheart? It's me. How are you doing?" I grimaced at her feigned concern.
"Why are you calling?"
"You know why. You misunderstood me the last time. I truly want to help you."
"Excuse me? What did I misunderstand? You handed me over to a Russian a year ago, and now you're calling to say this?" I felt laughter bubbling in my chest.
"You're right... but now I truly want to help you."
"You must've been thinking about it all year, huh?" Sarcasm dripped from my words.
"I..."
"You what?"
"Sweetheart, I understand that it might seem to you like you've grown to like the freedom. But he's not right for you. I can see that as a mother. You probably don't understand how this man affects you."
"How would you know if you weren't there?"
"I made a mistake," she whispered.
"I don't care. I'm happy now. Actually... thank you because I would've never met a man like Roman."
"Is that happiness? It was a forced situation, but now it can be changed."
"So what if I'm wrong? It's my choice. My mistakes."
"I understand you're angry with me, but I had no choice. You are my child. How can I live in peace, knowing that you're with someone who doesn't respect you? Because people in the mafia are dangerous."
"But you didn't care about that a year ago." I scoffed. "And I'm respected here."
"Respected? Sweetheart, you're a woman among dozens of men. And now I have a chance to bring you back. One man... he..."
"I don't care." I shouted. "You don't see the whole picture. We've given so much to each other, and I can't just leave him. And you know what's even better? That someone like you raised a daughter who's strong and can stand up for herself. You underestimate me."
"But why put up with it? There's always a place for you at home. I'm not saying you have to leave right now. Just think about it. Maybe you need some time apart to understand yourself?"
I turned sharply to the window. For a second, I considered it. I knew the world beyond these walls. But I also knew I had no one there.
"Mom, what do you want from me?" I asked, clenching my jaw.
"I want my daughter back. And Alex, he could help..."
"No, don't bring him into this." I interrupted her.
"But why? He's your brother and could help you. I already spoke to him." The blood froze in my veins. What had she done?
"Seriously? Are you kidding me?"
"No. You have to get out of there. You can't build your life with a man like that. I understand this and apologize."
I bit my lip hard, tasting blood.
"Roman... I'm disgusted; we've been married almost a year, and I can't even look at him, let alone when he touches me. I hate him. He's the biggest mistake I made because of you!" I made a dramatic pause, then began laughing. "Is this what you wanted to hear? Then remember this... don't meddle in my life and my marriage. Roman Kirillov is the best thing that happened in my life. Don't call me again, or I'll come home and kill you!" I threw the phone against the wall.
"Fucking bitch!" I screamed, trying to catch my breath.
***
Present Day...
I smirked crookedly. The man in front of me looked like a joke. Seriously? All of this was because he overheard a part of a conversation? He didn't even listen to the end, turned around, and then started acting like a jerk because he thought it would somehow make things better for me? God. I tried to blink back the tears.
I wouldn't have been alone during my pregnancy. I wouldn't have been alone at all. The girls would have been there. I wouldn't have run away. I would have... been happy. But that's life.
In life, it often happens that a small, seemingly insignificant problem can eventually grow into a massive snowball of difficulties. Sometimes, these little issues seem so trivial that we postpone addressing them, but when they accumulate, they can lead to serious consequences.
Imagine you keep putting off important calls or small tasks that should have been done last week. At first, it doesn't seem like a big deal, but over time, these things build up, and soon the to-do list becomes overwhelming, leading to stress and frustration. This applies to household chores too â a broken light bulb you plan to buy "sometime soon" or a clogged drain you've been meaning to fix for three weeks. Each "small thing" alone may not be critical, but accumulating them can bring chaos and anxiety, impacting daily life.
The same goes for relationships. We might ignore minor misunderstandings or offenses, deciding they're not worth discussing. But such small things have a way of piling up, especially if they happen repeatedly. For example, each time you stay silent in response to a hurtful word or fail to express dissatisfaction, trust erodes and understanding fades. Eventually, those pent-up frustrations will surface, making it hard to restore the original warmth and trust. Small communication issues, which could have been easily resolved, might escalate into a serious conflict, leaving scars that are difficult to heal.
The workplace is another example where small things can become big problems. Unfinished tasks that didn't fit into the schedule or documents left "for later" can trigger a series of serious disruptions. For instance, failing to double-check a minor detail in a report might later lead to a major error in an important project. Work quality suffers, colleagues' and supervisors' trust weakens, and ultimately, you feel pressure and disappointment in your professional reputation.
Psychologically, unresolved small issues often generate anxiety and stress. Instead of focusing on important tasks, we get torn between all the accumulated little things, losing concentration. Noticing and dealing with small problems right away is a crucial skill that helps prevent a cascade of negative consequences.
Ultimately, every little thing can play a crucial role if not addressed in time. Wisdom lies in not postponing these "trivialities" and not letting them accumulate. Tackling small problems as they arise helps maintain both inner peace and harmony in relationships and life overall.
And Roman could have listened or simply talked to me about it, but he didn't. That was his choice. But the consequences are ours.
"Why are you silent?" His raspy voice pulled me back to the moment where I now had to make a decision: logic or emotions. I could tell him the truth, but would it change anything now? We had already gone too far, which is why...
"You're right. You're disgusting." I smirked. My hand itched to slap him, but I knew any sudden movement would be suicide for me.
A flicker of cruelty and anger lit up in his eyes, which amused me.
"But we have a lot to discuss, don't we? War...your brother...or our children."
"Don't you dare! They're my children!" I snapped, though a question lingered inside me as to how he found out. Logic hinted that the doctor had sent him the message too.
"No, krasavica. It was my doing that impregnated you, so let's play and uncover the whole truth about you. And about what to do next." He reached for my hair, taking out that very hairpin. The gold glinted in the light, but the blade that appeared shone even brighter. He said, "let's play?"
"What do you want to play?" I raised my left eyebrow.
"Russian roulette, but without a gun. With a knife."
"Kirilov, I'm not going to play Russian roulette with you," I hissed.
"Why? Are you afraid?"
"No, it's just that with our strange obsession, it's more like 'Kiss Me or Kill Me.'" Yes, we even have our own game, which always ended horribly.
"True. And you love that game. You're much more talkative during it."
"I hate our game." His fingers touched my chin, and our eyes met, though until then, I had avoided his gaze, not wanting to see his face.
"Liar. But you're a strong girl. So tell the truth, at least now. Even if you hate it."
I bit my lip. Yes, we always started the game. I'd say I loved it, he'd ask why, and I'd always answer because he'd kiss me. Always. But not now.
"I love our game, 'Kiss Me or Kill Me,'" I said calmly.
"Why?" His fingers kept spinning the knife slowly.
"I know you'll kill me, and that means I'll never see you again. Perfect." My words were cold, but a shiver ran through me as the knife touched my lips, leaving a small open cut.
"You know..." Roman threw the blade between us. "I choose to taste your blood, star." His hand grabbed my neck, and his lips attacked mine.
Fuck everything. Conversations? They're not for us and our obsession.