Chapter 1: Crimson Tears in the Red Room

The air hung heavy in Moscow, thick with the stench of blood and revolution. Gangs, like ravenous wolves, circled the carcass of a fractured nation. The Evolution Group, a hydra of violence and wealth, was the alpha. At its head sat Viktor Borstov, a man whose ruthlessness was as legendary as his ambition. He'd clawed his way to the top, leaving a trail of broken bodies and shattered loyalties. Even his own brother fell victim to his insatiable hunger for power.Borstov, a master of deception, presented a facade of legitimacy. His "firm" was a titan of the world stage, its tentacles reaching into entertainment and technology. Yet, beneath the glittering surface, a darker truth festered. Evolution was a nexus of drug trafficking and human misery, a kingdom built on the backs of the broken.Love, for Borstov, was a political tool. He'd married Isabella, a woman of breathtaking beauty and glacial blue eyes, to secure a political alliance. However, fate, a cruel jester, snatched away Isabella's father right before the elections. The tragedy left her a hollow shell, her dreams of a loving family shattered.A year later, Isabella bore Borstov a daughter, Emerlda. The delivery was fraught, leaving the child frail and sickly. Isabella's subsequent attempts to conceive a son, an heir for Borstov's empire, were met with agonizing failure. In Russia, a land steeped in patriarchal traditions, a woman's worth was measured in wombs, not ambition.Isabella's inability to produce an heir became the wedge that drove Borstov into the arms of a younger, more fertile mistress: Maria. Whispers followed Maria like a venomous snake. She was a constant reminder of Isabella's perceived shortcomings, a living monument to her fading beauty.Maria, despite her seemingly enviable position, harbored a gnawing insecurity. The birth of Gustov, Borstov's son, did little to alleviate it. He became the sole focus of Borstov's affections, leaving Isabella and Emerlda adrift in a sea of neglect.Isabella, consumed by resentment and despair, slowly descended into madness. One night, during a lavish dinner party, she lunged at Maria, a feral scream tearing from her throat. The scene unfolded like a macabre ballet; restrained by servants, Isabella's eyes blazed with a chilling fury. Her words, laced with venom, were a chilling prophecy – "Even in death, Borstov, I will haunt you!"Borstov, his face contorted in disgust, ordered her locked away in a dark room, a solitary confinement meant to quell her insanity. He dismissed her pleas, his heart devoid of empathy.With trembling hands, Isabella carried a tray of food into the abyss of darkness. The air hung thick with the suffocating silence of oblivion. Emerlda, a silent observer of this unfolding tragedy, followed her mother into the room.The air crackled with a sudden violence. A glass hurtled through the air, shattering against the wall. Isabella, consumed by rage, lashed out at her daughter, her words dripping with venomous scorn – "You are weak, nothing! Because of you, he abandoned me!"Emerlda, unflinching, collected the broken pieces. Her eyes, devoid of tears, held an unsettling calmness. "I shall bring more water for you," she whispered, a smile playing on her lips.The door slammed shut behind them, plunging them back into darkness. A kind maid, her face etched with worry, snuck in to tend to Emerlda's wound. "I made mama angry again," Emerlda whispered, a question hanging in the air.The entire episode reached Borstov's ears, and his fury knew no bounds. He summoned Emerlda to his study, a room reeking of power and cruelty. Maria, adorned in expensive jewels, sat beside him, cradling Gustov in her arms.The crack of Borstov's hand against Emerlda's cheek echoed in the silence. "Don't you dare set foot in that room again," he roared. "You and your insane mother are nothing but a burden. I'm sending you away, to a boarding school Maria found."Maria, her eyes sparkling with malicious glee, chimed in, "The perfect place to straighten out a naughty girl like you." Borstov's gaze, cold and unforgiving, landed on Emerlda. "Pack your bags," he spat.Maria, reveling in her triumph, adjusted her dress before standing. "The arrangements are all made," she purred, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. "You leave tonight. I'm sure you'll become a… remarkable woman."The world dissolved into a horrifying kaleidoscope. Maria's whisper, a viper's hiss in her ear, sent a tremor through Emerlda. "That is if you return," it chilled her more than the stone floor beneath her bare feet.Emerlda's scream ripped through the air, a desperate plea that shattered the suffocating silence. "Father you can't send me away from Mother!" Her voice, raw with terror, echoed in the cavernous hall.His reply was a glacial glare. "How dare you raise your voice to me!" The spittle that flew from his lips landed on her cheek, a searing brand. "You need her so much? Then you might as well stay there forever with her." He gestured towards a hulking figure, a silent enforcer.The world spun as Emerlda was yanked away. Tears streamed down her face, a salty counterpoint to the rising tide of fear. "Mother, don't let them take me away, please!" she sobbed, her voice muffled by the rough hands that propelled her forward.The dark room was a suffocating tomb. Silence, thick and heavy, pressed down on her. She clawed at the darkness, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Finally, with shaking hands, she fumbled for the curtains, a sliver of hope pushing against the crushing despair.A sliver of light. And then, a horror that curdled her blood. Dangling shadows, grotesque marionettes against the fading light of the setting sun. Her mother. A choked scream died in her throat, replaced by a primal, bone-deep terror.A searing pain erupted in her chest, a white-hot agony that stole her breath. The world dissolved back into that horrifying kaleidoscope, the last tendrils of consciousness clinging desperately to the image of her mother, forever lost.Then, blessed oblivion. Emerlda crumpled to the floor, a fragile butterfly broken on the wind.A storm cloud loomed over Borstov's brow as he stormed back from his meeting, Luka, his loyal shadow, trotting beside him. In Luka's hand, a shiny new doll, a potential ray of sunshine for Emerlda.Maria, Borstov's wife, intercepted them, offering Luka a frosted glass of whiskey. "Emerlda?" Luka inquired, doll outstretched. "Boarding school," Maria replied, her voice tight. "A funeral's no place for a child."Luka's face twisted in disbelief. "Eight years old, Borstov? Boarding school?" Maria's agitation crackled in the air – her plan to finally oust Emerlda and Isabella's memory was teetering.Borstov, defeated, sighed. "She's no use to me. Gustov, he'll carry the name." Luka, aware of Maria's viperous desires towards Isabella and her daughter, countered, "Send me the school's location. The doll deserves a smile on Emerlda's face."Maria's fingers drummed a frantic rhythm. "I'll deliver the doll and some clothes myself. Dinner's ready. Let's eat."Luka scooped Gustov, the miniature Borstov, into his arms. "Look at you, little man! Growing like a weed!"Dinner was a tense affair, followed by Borstov dragging Luka to his study. Frustration clouded the room. Borstov offered a pungent cigar and a glass of amber whiskey.Luka puffed out a plume of smoke, his voice low. "Those American dogs seized a billion in goods! Recovering it cost half our men and the bounty itself! Who's this buffoon you put in charge?""Perhaps age dulls the senses, wouldn't you agree, Luka?" Borstov retorted, shoving ledgers into Luka's hands. "These names – they betrayed me. Take care of it."News of a heist at one of their American plants crackled through the air.Borstov, drowning his sorrows in whiskey, confessed, "I need someone in America, eyes and ears. You're finished here. Go. I'll deal with the house rats."Luka scanned the names – a web of treachery. These vermin needed purging.Maria, a silent spider in the corner, listened intently.Borstov slid a file across the table. Passports, new identities. "Keep your nose clean. The CIA's been sniffing around. Lay low."Luka tucked the ledgers into his bag. "A moment of candor, boss?" Borstov grunted his assent.Luka met his gaze, eyes lingering on Isabella's portrait. "A tragedy, losing Madam Isabella. But was ousting your daughter wise, Maria?"Leaving Borstov to his ghosts, Luka met Maria, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand.Borstov, staring at Isabella's smiling portrait, rasped, "Get rid of everything. Everything."Fear gnawed at Emerlda as the car sped her to a desolate wasteland. The driver snatched her bag and vanished, leaving her alone in the chilling darkness. Her dress snagged, sending her tumbling. Never had she felt such terror. Huddled against her bag, tears streamed down her face."Mother… I'm scared…" a choked sob escaped her lips.Headlights pierced the gloom. Wiping tears, Emerlda croaked, "Good evening… please help me…"A towering woman, a jagged scar splitting her face, emerged from the car. Her eyes, cold as ice, landed on Emerlda. "Another useless piece of trash dumped on my land. Bag her."Emerlda, thrown onto a dark truck, vanished into the night.