Agent 7. The Shadows: Part I

▪️◼️Chapter Twenty One◼️▪️

My fingers are shaking when I go to secure the lock of the bathroom door.

I turn around and lean my back against the smooth wood and take in a much needed breath.

I lift my gaze and find myself in the reflection of the sprawling mirror that sits above the double sinks across the room from me. I look tired. Dark pillows sit beneath my eyes begging for sleep. My skin is so pale it's nearly transparent and my eyes are abnormally wide as I take in my disheveled appearance. I'm an absolute mess from our run in the rain. My hair is stringy and plastered to the rounded edges of my face and my clothes are clinging to me like a second skin.

Much like my kidnapper's.

I scowl when I think of him again.

I watch myself in the mirror as I brush my fingers along my forehead to behind my ear, the way he did, smoothing my hair.

How is it that he can make me feel as if he cares about my well being while also making certain I know that he doesn't give two shits about me, at the same time?

I know he doesn't actually care about me, he needs me alive so that he can use me.

I'm simply a pawn to him.

The words he spoke to me just moments ago prove that.

"I admit I have plans for you Alina but I assure you that, that isn't one of them."

Plans, he says.

He's always talking of these so-called plans he has for me, never actually elaborating on what these plans entail.

He's only given me scraps of information that I must piece together.

Mayor Borkov.

Lingerie.

And me.

That's all I know so far, but that's more than enough to have me sick to my stomach.

My mind has been going wild with the disturbing possibilities all day.

The sooner I can get answers the sooner I can make sense of why I'm here.

Why he kidnapped me of all people and what the real reason is that he wants me to entertain Mayor Borkov.

He said entertaining Oleg was a form of repayment for spilling wine on him last night and a repayment to my kidnapper for keeping me alive.

But both are absolutely absurd since he's the one forcing me to do these things in the first place!

This is all his fault.

He created this mess and now he's forcing me to clean it up for him.

Ugh!

I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing as I try to qualm the frustration building in the pit of my stomach.

None of this makes any sense.

My entire body is buzzing with irritation and confusion.

I pull in a deep breath expanding my lungs.

I hold it for two seconds.

I release the air until my lungs are empty and aching for more.

Then I repeat, three more times.