His Dark Russian Princess

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Chapter One: Edited

Trigger warning: Descriptions of Sexual Assault. I will leave Markers for those who wish to skip the scene.


Anya age 14:

I held my breath as I snuck around the corner, pausing at the steps and peeking into the hallway. Two of Father's men stood guard at be end of the stairs, their backs to me. A victory smile crossed my lips as I pressed back against the wall I was hiding against. Darting forward, I looked almost like a faint shadow in the dark of the house.

I silently snuck into the back hallway, heading down to the kitchens. As I opened the door to the kitchen, I did a little victory dance, my hands shaking in the air and my hips rocking. Darting forward to the freezer, I opened the door and pulled out the ice cream, putting it on the counter before beginning to hunt for a spoon.

"Why am I not surprised." The deep voice had me jumping as a small scream escaped my lips. I spun around, a hand on my chest as I gasped for breath softly. A pout sprouted on my lips naturally as I glared at the dark shadow sitting at the kitchen table.

Glancing at the clock on the stove, I huffed as I saw it had taken me ten minutes to get here. I grab my spoon and the ice cream, pausing to grab a bowl, then walking over to sit at the table. "How long have you been in here?" I ask as I scoop a large chunk of ice cream into the bowl.

"Long enough to see that horrible dancing. Where in the world did you see that kinda dancing? You're too young to be dancing like that." He growled, leaning forward into the moonlight that filled the kitchen from the large window.

I glared and pouted at the handsome face next to me, taking a bite of my ice cream. After swallowing my bite, I finally replied in a small voice "I saw some girl doing it online. I thought it was cute." Shaking his head, he grabbed my spoon and stole a bite of my ice cream.

I watched as he pulled the spoon to his lips, his tongue coming out to lick a drop of ice cream off the spoon. Shaking my head, I glared at him. I didn't know why I was noticing things like this lately.

"Ras, do you know when Papa is going to be back home again? I miss him." Ras handed back my spoon, and I stared at my reflection in the metal.

A girl of 14 years old stared at me, her eyes bright blue. Her face was rounded slightly framed by golden locks of hair. Pouty lips were parted and shining from the ice cream.

Shaking my head, I took another bite of ice cream. I'd never cared what I looked like before. Why was it so important what I looked like now. I didn't need to impress anyone.

Secretly, I knew why it was important. It was important because of him. Ras. The boy who has never smiled, who has been my constant companion for the past 6 years.

"Ras, I have a question." His black eyes stared at mine as he waited, watching me. A strand of his jet black hair fell in his eyes, and without thinking my hand reached out and pushed it back.

He froze as my fingertips brushed his ear, watching me warily. Pulling my hand back, I played with the melting ice cream in my bowl. "Why do you never smile? No matter what I've tried, you never smile."

His eyes grew darker, a haunted look crossing them. I'd seen him get like this before, dark and withdrawn. It usually happened when I asked about his family, or when someone pushed him too hard. There was a darkness in him. Something that was eating him alive inside, torturing his soul.

I shook my head and was about to say never mind when he finally spoke. "I don't want to. If I were to smile, it would mean I was feeling. And to feel is the worst kind of agony." His eyes bore into mine, staring into my soul.

I felt frozen, trapped in his gaze. His eyes flickered down for a moment, then immediately snapped away. Looking down at my shirt, I frowned, trying to see if I maybe had a stain or spilled some ice cream on my shirt.

But I saw nothing except my small chest covered in a tank top. Shrugging, I got up and put the ice cream away. Thinking over his words, I turned and looked at him.

"Agony isn't always misery, Ras. Sometimes we need the agony. It reminds us we are still alive. It reminds us we aren't monsters."

Turning, I smiled at him, waving slightly before walking through the kitchen door, heading back to my room. There was no point trying to be sneaky. This was my own house after all. As I passed through the halls, I heard someone whispering. Walking closer, I listened as I caught the end of what was being said.

"-already starting to form. One day she's going to be completely filled out in all the right places. Just imagine what would happen if we played with her." I frowned. I didn't know what they were talking about, but I didn't think they meant video games when they said play, based on the way the people laughed.

"We already know Maria and Tatiana love it. Olga too. But she's something different. She's almost too pure. The kind of pure you wanna break and make them scream."

I was old enough to know what they were talking about, but the factor they said all of my sisters names, made me wonder who else they could be talking about. And why the heck my sisters were having sex with the guards, when Papa made it clear every time we had "the talk" that it wasn't allowed?

"What do you think you're doing just hanging about? You're on duty. You're supposed to be making sure we're safe! And why aren't you all at your specific floors? Don't make me tell my father you were slacking off in the job." I looked at all of them, three faces filling with shock as I cross my arms and glare at them.

"Of course... I could say nothing if you tell me what you guys were talking about?" I smirk a little, my curiosity getting the better of me.

Two of the guys coughed and looked away, instantly mumbling about having to go back to their posts. But the third one stayed, a slow smirk forming on his face as he slowly walked up to me. "You wanna know what we were talking about little lady? And what assurances do I get that I won't be fired in the morning if I tell you?"

My eyes widened as he kept walking forward, a strange feeling of uncertainty running down my spine for a moment as the man stopped, his face showing in the moonlight from the window. Swallowing a few times, I finally manage to whisper, "I won't tell a soul."

His smile grew, and he reached out his hand to touch my cheek, the feeling of fear and uncertainty starting to return as I read his name badge. Dimitri. I remembered overhearing a conversation Ras and Papa had about a man named Dimitri that had gone missing. Papa had seemed really upset he was gone, but I don't know why.

His hand gently slid from my cheek down to my neck, my body starting to tense as his fingers grazed the strap of my tank top.

"I-I asked you to tell me what you were talking about. You don't have permission to touch me." My voice came out weak, my hand slapping his away as I take a step back, glaring as hard as I can at the man in front of me.

"Tell me what you were saying about my sisters. Or I'll tell my father you touched me without my permission." I threatened him, but all it seemed to do was make him smile more.

The feelings of fear returned even stronger, and this time I listened. Turning my body, I started to run, heading to the safety of my room. Ras's room was next to mine, so if I could reach mine, Ras would be able to know something was wrong.

I could hear Dimitri running after me, and could tell just by his steps that he was gaining on me. I reached the main hallway to my room, only having the stairs to go up and then a straight shot to the doors.

**Trigger Scene Begins**

Before I could even put my foot on the first step of the stair case, a hand grabbed my hair and pulled me back, his other hand covering my mouth to muffle my screams. His grip on my hair tightened as he leaned in close, his breath smelling foul as he whispered against my ear. "You're going to stay quiet, or I'm going to hurt you so much worse little girl. Am I understood?"

A sob escaped my lips at the pain in my scalp, his hand wrenching my head back as he glared down at me, watching the tears start to pour down my cheeks. Nodding my head slightly in obedience, he slowly pulled his hand away from my lips, running it down to my chest. My eyes widened as he kicked my legs out from under me, my body falling to the floor with him sitting on top of me.

I felt frozen, stuck in time and unable to do anything as I watched him grab my tank top, and, as if it was in slow motion, rip it in half.

My vision kept getting blurry, my arms limp beside me and my voice refusing to work. I felt his touch on my skin, followed by the feel of something wet and warm, and another sob escaped me.

I hated it. I hated this feeling, of being frozen and yet I was powerless to make it stop. I could feel the weight of Dimitri's body move lower, and suddenly the ceiling tiles became the most fascinating thing.

Things I had never noticed about the ceiling suddenly started to pop out. The most common color up there was red. As I felt my shorts start to slide down my legs, I began to notice that there were hidden images of knives and guns in the artwork.

The hand starting to slide between my thighs was suddenly ripped away as a blur of pure black crossed my vision, Dimitri's weight disappearing from my body as the black vanished.

**Trigger Scene Over**

I could hear the sound of flesh hitting flesh, could feel the cold air against my skin, causing goosebumps to rise. And I still couldn't make my body move. I wanted to scream, kick, run. But all I could do was lay there, frozen.

It wasn't until my vision slowly started going black that I realized I wasn't breathing. I could hear Ras yelling at me faintly, but it was so far away it felt like a dream. I wondered for a moment, if this is what death felt like. Because this felt like peace to me.


Ras, age 18:

I looked down at the small body in my arms, limp and passed out cold. From shock, or from the trauma, I couldn't tell yet, but I knew when she woke up, she would likely remember everything. And she would probably never be the same again.

The images in my mind kept replaying over and over. Of her laying there, almost lifeless, and his body on hers. The rage I suppress every day immediately flares back to life as I think of it.

I want to go back into the main hall and kill him. The fact he thought he could get away with it, that he could try and touch something that wasn't his, and not be punished, drove me crazy and made my hand ache to unload a case into his skull.

But I knew Nicholas would want to have some "quiet time" with him. He dared to touch his little Princess. If anyone had a death wish, all they had to do was look at her wrong, and he'd grant it. But to dare to touch her? That was asking for more than death.

Reaching my door at the end of the hallway, I opened it and carried the fragile angel I held in my arms into my room.

Walking to my bed, I gently laid her down, glaring in disgust at the red marks left on her skin by his lips and hands. Gently sitting up her limp frame, I covered her chest with a sheet, and then slid her tank top off the rest of the way, taking the shirt off my own back and covering her body with it.

After making sure she wasn't injured or hurt anywhere else, I gently laid her down and covered her with my blankets, watching her sleep for a moment before I left the room and called Nicholas.

"This better be important Boy. I'm in the middle of a meeting." His deep tone immediately sent me back to the day I first met him, my small self covered in blood and him looking immaculate, yet still terrifying.

I could hear groaning in the background, and not of the pleasurable kind, so I knew this wasn't a bad time for me to tell him. Opening my mouth, I went to reply, only to hear the sound of my door creaking open and seeing Anya standing there, looking fragile and unsure.

"You're wasting my patience boy. Spit it out." Nicholas's voice brought my attention back to him, some sort of response coming out of my mouth to tell him to wait a minute because something came up.

I watched her slowly walk over to me, her body swaying as she got close enough to touch me. She tried to lean up and whisper something, but lost her balance, my arm immediately wrapping itself around her wait and holding her tight.

Her lips moved, but I couldn't hear anything, my head leaning closer until I finally could hear her.

"Dimitri... it was... Dimitri."

She gently pulled away, and I let her, watching her walk back to my room and close the door, listening for telltale creak of my bed as she laid down on it.

"Boy, you got three seconds to tell me what happened or I'm putting a bullet in you for every second you've made me waste."

Returning my attention to Nick, I let out a breath as I realize the extent of what happened. This wasn't even about her... this was about Nicholas.

"I found Dimitri. But.. he got to Anya." I managed to grit out, the anger washing over my again as I think of what could have happened if I hadn't notice she wasn't in her room.

The silence after my words from Nicholas was astounding. The only thing I could hear was the click of a chamber, and then a bullet being fired. The groaning stopped, but I could sense the fury in his calm voice as he slowly asked, "Where is he?"

Walking back to the stair well, I looked down at the same floor where I had seen Anya and him laying just moments ago. Now, it was only occupied by Dimitri. "He's right here in the main entrance boss. Right where I found him."

"I'll be back before dawn. Take him somewhere more comfortable. Make sure it's a place he won't forget." The call ended as I stared down at Dimitri, slapping him awake and staring down at him.

"You touched something that doesn't belong to you. So I'm going to take something of yours. I hope you realize that you won't be recovering from this." Punching him in the temple, I watch as he passes out once more.

Standing up, I text Nicholas that I'm moving Dimitri to the basement. Just as I'm about to put my phone away, an unknown number sends me a text that makes me pause.

Do you know who you serve?
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