Ch 32: The First Flight
Two weeks had passed since her first lesson at the firing range. Earlier this week, she had transitioned over to shooting moving targets. Today, she hit almost all of the central masses.
Kazimir decided she was proficient enough with a gun. The training moved to a different room—an empty space on the house's lower level, with mats on the floor and padded walls. He had shed his jacket, his sleeves rolled to his elbows as he faced her across the mat.
Elena noticed the shadows beneath his eyes. He had been coming and going more frequently these past few days—disappearing for hours, sometimes whole nights. The conflict with Dante was escalating.
"Shooting is one thing." His voice pulled her from her thoughts. "But if someone gets close, you need to know how to create distance."
Elena nodded.
"I'm going to show you some basic defenses. Things that work even if you're smaller." Kazimir moved toward her slowly. "First rule: don't let them get a hold."
He extended his arm, toward her. "Grab my wrist. Hold tight."
She reached out and closed her fingers around his wrist.
"See how my thumb is finding the gap? The grip is weakest here, toward the thumb." He rotated his wrist, demonstrating. "If someone grabs you, rotate toward their thumb, like this."
He twisted, and her grip broke easily.
Elena nodded.
Kazimir's fingers closed around her wrist—gentle, controlled. "Good. Now you try."
She found the gap and broke free.
"Perfect." His grey eyes warmed. "Again."
They practiced until the movement became instinct.
"Now the hard part," he said, stepping back. "Strikes. Throat, solar plexus, groin, eyes. These are your targets. You can't trade power, so you target vulnerability. Now you try."
‘Where? On you?’ Elena stared at him, wide-eyed.
Kazimir nodded. "I need to see your form. You won't hurt me."
She didn't believe him. She had seen the bruises on his ribs. She had helped tend his wounds. But his eyes held hers, steady and certain. Hesitant, her hand came up slowly, aiming for his throat.
He caught her wrist. "No hesitation. If you hesitate, you're dead. Commit."
Commit. Elena thought back to the firing line. Breath. Aim. She had to mean it.
She tried again. This time, her palm connected with his throat.
"Harder," he said. "I can take it."
She hit harder. Then harder.
When they moved to the solar plexus strike, her fist connected with his stomach. Kazimir exhaled sharply, his abdomen clenching beneath her knuckles. His jaw tightened. He caught her fists on the sixth strike and held them gently.
"That's enough." His voice was rough. "You did well."
She looked up at him, her breath ragged. Her knuckles ached where they had connected with his stomach.
Kazimir examined her hands. "Your knuckles."
Elena shook her head, trying to withdraw. But he held on tighter and produced a small tube from his pocket.
"This will help," he murmured, applying some gel to the back of her hand.
She watched him. The warmth in her chest spread.
"You're a fast learner, Elena."
She looked down at their joined hands and felt heat bloom behind her ears.
Then footsteps in the hallway broke the moment. Voices drifted through the door.
Kazimir's head snapped toward the sound. His body shifted, coiling. He positioned himself slightly in front of her.
Elena's heart stuttered. But she breathed—deep, deliberate breaths—and forced herself calm.
The voices grew clearer as the speakers approached. Two of them, maybe three. Laughing, utterly unaware of who might be listening.
"—did you see the look on Tim's face when Boss handed him that envelope? I thought he was going to shit himself."
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
"Fuck you, Nikolai! You shut up! And you, Arlo! Can't you defend me?"
Elena recognized the names from the whispered conversations of maids. Nikolai, Kazimir's right-hand man. Timothy, young and eager. Arlo, the quiet one. The trio had been away for a few months, helping Kazimir with business abroad. And when they had returned two days ago, she had seen the way they looked at her—the contempt, the whispers.
"But speaking of Kazimir—you heard about his ‘little mouse’?" Nikolai's voice carried through the door. "A few months ago, she seduced some men. They ended up being killed."
Timothy snorted. "Yeah, I heard. Playing all innocent and calling it rape. She probably liked taking on multiple men. You know how these bitches are."
Elena's breath stopped for a moment. The cellar rushed back—cold stone, bodies pressing her down, hands grabbing, tearing at her clothes, fingers digging into her skin. She had been beaten, groped, pinned beneath them. But they had not gone that far. Even Kazimir had only held her. So how did she turn into a willing participant? A seductress? The irony of it—the monstrous injustice—made her chest tighten.
Nikolai continued. "In the years I've known him, Kazimir had never killed his men. She must be messing with his head. I don't know how else to explain it."
A third voice joined, calmer. Arlo. "Those men worked for Dante. They were planted to cause trouble."
"So?" Nikolai's voice was dismissive. "They were still our men. Kazimir killed them for her. I heard they didn't even get a public trial."
"She's his wife now," Arlo said.
"That changes nothing. He's been different since she arrived. Distracted. The men are noticing."
Beside her, Kazimir went very still.
Elena felt cold fury settle over him. When she looked up at him, his jaw was granite, his eyes fixed on the door with an intensity that could cut. His hands had curled into fists at his sides, the knuckles white.
He was going to hurt them—the men who had fought beside him for years.
No!
She caught his arm with both hands. His muscles were rigid beneath her grip.
Kazimir stopped. He looked down at her, the war raging behind his eyes.
‘Don't,’ she mouthed quietly. ‘Not like this.’
"They're my men," he growled. "They should know better. They will learn to keep your name out of their mouths."
She shook her head decisively. She understood now why they spoke about her that way. They had returned to find their boss married to a woman they only knew through rumors—rumors spread by Dante. They weren't evil. They were loyal to Kazimir, and they believed she was making him weak.
'Let me handle this. Let me do it alone,’ she mouthed. 'If you're there, they'll be watching you. They won't see me. I want them to see me.'
Kazimir stared at her. His eyes searched hers. She could see him processing her words, measuring them against his instincts.
"They're fools, but I’m responsible for them," he said finally.
She squeezed his hand gently. ‘Let me do this. Trust me.’
His eyes searched hers. His fists unclenched slowly. "The door is open. I'll be here."
She nodded, turned, and pushed the door open.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The room was a small common area adjacent to the training rooms. The three men stood near the benches, mid-laugh, mid-sentence. Their shirts were damp with sweat, their faces flushed from training. They turned at the sound of the door.
Nikolai straightened. His blond hair was plastered to his forehead, his grey eyes sweeping over her with dismissal. "Well, well. Speaking of the devil."
Timothy let out a low whistle. Arlo stood apart, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Elena stood in the doorway, her expression neutral.
Nikolai pushed off the wall. "You lost, little mouse? Boss's bed is upstairs. Or do you need directions to the cellar? I hear that's your hideout."
Timothy laughed.
She took a step forward.
The laughter faltered. The men exchanged glances.
Elena stopped three feet from Nikolai. She looked at him directly, the way Kazimir had taught her to look at targets.
‘I heard what you said,’ she mouthed, her expression calm.
Nikolai's eyes narrowed. His gaze flicked past her, looking for Kazimir. But Kazimir remained hidden.
"Yeah?" His voice was more careful now. "What are you going to do about it?"
Elena took another step closer. Close enough to see the pulse in his throat.
'You're loyal to Kazimir,' she mouthed. 'I understand that. You think I'm making him weak. You think I convinced him to kill those men.' She paused. 'You're wrong.'
Nikolai's jaw tightened.
'The men who attacked me worked for Dante. Kazimir killed them because they were traitors. They beat me. They put their hands on me. But they did not do what you're accusing me of enjoying.'
Elena held his gaze. She reached up and deliberately, straightened his collar. Her fingers brushed the damp fabric, smoothing it against his throat.
When she spoke—or rather, mouthed—her face was inches from his: ‘But if you speak about me again—if you spread those lies—I won't need Kazimir. I'll handle you myself.’
Nikolai's face went pale. He stared at her, his mouth slightly open.
She stepped back and looked at the three of them—Nikolai's ashen face, Timothy's wiped-clean smirk. Her gaze lingered on Arlo, who was watching her with something complicated in his eyes. Then she turned and walked away.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Kazimir was waiting in the hallway. His eyes moved over her, checking for harm. When she got closer, he pulled her into his chest.
Elena leaned into him. Her heart was still racing, she felt steady.
His hand cradled the back of her head. "The men who spoke about you—"
'Don't punish them,' she mouthed, pulling back to look at him. 'Not for this. They're loyal to you. If you hurt them for words they said in private, you'll prove every suspicion they have about me.'
His jaw tightened.
'And stop blaming yourself for what happened in the cellar,' she continued. 'It wasn't your fault. You didn't put them there. You didn't tell them to hurt me. So stop carrying guilt that doesn't belong to you.'
Kazimir went still.
'I didn't tell you weeks ago because I was angry,' she mouthed. 'But I'm over it, so I don't want you to keep blaming yourself.'
He was quiet for a long moment. Then his hand came up to cup her face, his thumb brushing her cheekbone.
Behind them, voices started up again—lower now, uncertain. Elena didn't try to hear the words.
She had stood her ground.
The waves would keep coming. Only now, Elena had stopped counting the days she survived and started living them instead.
Last edited by Feiya Phia 5/8/26