Agent 7. The Shadows: Part I

▪️⬛️Chapter Seventeen⬛️▪️

I set the fork down on my now empty plate and lean back in my seat feeling stuffed. It's an odd sensation I'm not accustomed to, after having gone so long on so little food.

I lift my napkin inelegantly to my lips and wipe away the crumbs in the corners of my mouth before lifting my gaze much the same.

I've kept my eyes trained down on my plate for the last thirty minutes in order to avoid making accidental eye contact with my kidnapper. But now that my plate is empty I have nothing left to distract myself with.

Instead, I sweep my eyes across the downtown area we're in, to the sea of brick and mortar that surrounds me.

I purposefully turn in the direction opposite of my kidnapper as to avoid catching him in my peripherals.

The gentrified buildings are a contrasting mix of old town Moscow and modern day architecture.

My eyebrows furrow when my gaze settles on a familiar flower shop down the street.

That can't be.

I sit up a little straighter in the metal patio chair, squinting in the direction of the shop.

The small building is painted a crisp alabaster and is blanketed in teeming pink bougainvillea that covers the entirety of the brick, leaving only the door and storefront window bare.

I know that place.

It's unmistakable and impossible to forget. I used to pass it on my buss route to work, what feels like a lifetime ago.

I turn in my seat left and right looking all around me at the other buildings.

I do know this area. We are right next to the Arbat District! 

I was a waitress at a high-end restaurant called Savva, no more than a kilometer or two away from here.

I wasn't expecting him to bring me somewhere I recognize, let alone a part of the city I used to frequent for years.

Wow, I have so many memories from this area of the city.

Savva is where I met Vladimir, actually.

He used to come in for business dinners at least once a month.

He was attractive in an older gentleman type of way. He was sophisticated and well dressed and everyone knew him by name. You could tell he was important just by the way he carried himself.

No one knew exactly what he did for work but everyone knew he was disgustingly wealthy.

When he took an interest in me I had been working there awhile, I was older and less naive but still as desperate as the day I first walked into that restaurant. Despite my appreciation for Savva, I was barely scraping by on my minimal income and I was exhausted working the same dead end job, day after day.

Vladimir was going to be my way out.

Or so my young mind thought.

I quickly learned that Vladimir would not be the savior I had hoped for but instead my demise. But by the time I realized it, it was too late, I was in too deep.