Prologue

The biting Russian cold welcomed her as she stepped off the plane, a fleeting mist forming in the frigid air as she breathed out in nervousness.

It clung to her senses, contrasting the warmth of Texas where her family was. She thought leaving behind the suffocating struggles would ease her stress. Instead, it only fuelled her anxiety more. She still didn't know what she was doing there or how she ended up in Russia. Her only answer was the scholarship letter and three hundred dollars that she exchanged at the airport earlier.

Though she was told that the scholarship included her tuition f*e and dorm, she still had to pay for yearly semester f*es and living expenses.

A sigh left her lips with mist as she dragged the luggage to the exit. The paper in her hand was wrinkled as she read the address written on it: Star Square-lane 25-building 56. She wondered how far it was.

Her heart raced as she clutched the strap of her worn backpack. It was her first time visiting a foreign land all alone. But this time, she had to. Her mother was the one who convinced her to take the scholarship test at Moscow University, and even though she was ready to fail, fortunately, she somehow got in. It was a startling surprise for both of them. She had two days to pack her stuff and leave for Russia. Her mother borrowed some money from her boss, and despite her refusal, she insisted on buying her woollen scarves and coats.

A small curve formed on her lips as she looked down at the maroon scarf. It was a handmade-limited edition, she might say since her mother knitted it herself in two days. All this made her reason for coming here more valid. It was just a matter of two years. To pay back all the debt and loans they owed, she had to become the responsible daughter. She couldn’t let her mother suffer anymore. She wanted to give her a peaceful life, where she didn't have to worry about anything.

As she crossed the unfamiliar streets, the chill seeped through her coat. The receptionist said she'd find the cabs on the other side of the street. Crossing the pedestrian, she found the cab stand.

"Can you take me to this address?" she asked, grateful for the Russian lessons she took in her undergraduate course. Though her knowledge of the language was limited, she knew few basic sentences.

The man with a gruff beard and a big fleece jacket looked her up and down, his eyes narrowing at the address. "It’s far from here," he said in a thick accent.

Her stomach tightened. "How much?"

"7,890 roubles."

Her breath hitched. Almost ninety dollars. She’d barely have anything left.

"6,000?" she tried, desperation creeping into her voice.

The driver dragged on his cigarette, eyeing her. "7,000. No more, no less."

Swallowing her frustration, she nodded. So much for negotiation.

"All right," she conceded with a sigh. He put her luggage in the trunk, and she got in. The insides were warmer than the outside as she settled in. Her legs ached as she tried to stretch them. The driver rounded the cab before turning the radio on.

"…fifteen have died and some bodies are missing. Sources suggested a brewing power struggle within the country’s underworld, though officials refuse to comment." The reporter said. Despite the restricted familiarity of the language, Seraphina caught on few words. 15 have died.  

She prayed for their souls.

"Power struggle, my ass." The driver grumbled taking a turn. Sera sighed, focusing on the buildings outside as the news kept playing in the background. She peered out of the taxi window, the lights of Moscow shining brightly. A nervousness gripped her. She was already missing Texas's warmth. The tall buildings looked like giants reaching for the sky, unlike the small cosy houses she was used to living in. Cars rushed by, and people hurried along the sidewalks.

While the city seemed lively and exciting, the radio in the background told a different story.

"Meanwhile, billionaire heir Judas Romanovski made a rare public appearance today, his first in over two years. Speculations swirls around his growing influence in the underworld, but no official accusations have been made."

A momentary silence followed. The reporter in the background kept on dictating the news. Her ears perked as she caught up on the names mentioned. A sudden chill ran down her spine.

Judas Romanovski.

"Where you from, girl?" The Russian driver asked in a thick English accent jolting her up. Sera glanced at him, unsure if he was addressing her. She seemed startled for a moment but soon recovered.

"States," she replied, her voice barely audible over the hum of the engine. The driver spared her a quick glance through the rear-view mirror as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

He shook his head in disbelief, his rough features contorting into a grimace. "Should have stayed there," he muttered under his breath.

Her brows knitted in confusion, Sera turned to face him, her gaze searching his weathered face for answers. "What do you mean?”

Unsure of what the man meant, she let out a sigh and blocked out the news reporter. The more she heard, the more anxious she was getting. Calm down. There was no way she'd caught herself amidst the danger. She was just a student. From hostel to college and repeat. Get a part-time and stay away from trouble. The only motto she lived by and she'd live by.

The car took a sudden turn, slowing down before coming to a halt. Sera looked around as they stopped in front of a fancy building. It took her off guard. This couldn't be the hostel? She uncurled the paper in her hand and read the address again. Star Square-lane 25-building 56.

"We are here." The driver grumbled in a rough accent. Nodding, she got out of the taxi. The cold air hitting her face and neck immediately, "Get your luggage out."

"What-oh!" Feeling stupid, she quickly ducked in and grabbed her trolley bag along with a smaller one. "Spasibo."

The driver gave her a look and then turned around. She blinked unsure if she offended him somehow. As long as she knew, that thank you was Spasibo in Russian, did she somehow misinterpret it?

"Beware of snakes, there’re more in winter."

Sera frowned. Be careful of... snakes?

She watched as the taxi drove away. Something strange settled in her chest. She couldn't pinpoint it, but she could feel it. The suffocation for a second, a feeling of something close to fear. As if being… looked at.

Turning around, she let her eyes follow the lane. It was empty but she couldn’t shake this feeling. 

She kept looking at the empty road for another moment before blinking away with a shake of her head. She was over-thinking again.

Calming her heart, she swallowed hard and brushed away the sensations. Focusing her attention on the building and took a deep breath. These two years would take long, she could feel already.  

Her clutch on the bags tightened and with a determined sigh, she got ready to face whatever would come her way.