Chapter 209.1

Chapter 209.1

Kia’s brows arched as he stared out the dark window. He had been clinging to his phone the entire call, face pale as paper, before suddenly curling his lips into a long smile.

He let out a blood-tinged laugh now and then and shot a sharp glance toward Natalia, whose hands and feet were bound.

Her hair was matted with dried blood, and after days of surviving on nothing but water, she looked skeletal. She hadn’t been allowed to use the bathroom, so the stench of urine had long filled the room. Chains bound her limbs twice over.

At first, she had tried everything: she’d threatened, pleaded, even tried seduction. She had spread her legs deliberately, hoping to lure him closer, but escape was impossible. The man who spent his days gathering strands of Sonya’s fallen hair wasn’t swayed by any trick.

Being trapped in the reeking hut with Kia, who prayed obsessively, felt no different from torture. Drained of strength, Natalia had half-given up by now.

Several times a day, Kia called the woman who had stolen her face, only to hurl the phone afterward or wreck the kitchen sink in a fit of rage. Natalia had to curl up each time metal shards flew past her.

Maybe something went wrong, she thought, then sneered to herself. It’s useless. Whatever that woman does, stealing her face and her plan won’t save her.

‘Know your place and come crawling back, you lunatic.’ Grinding her teeth, Natalia buried her hatred.

That was when a call came in.

“да.”

Natalia watched Kia answer with a curt “Yes.” His expression was hard to read, something between satisfaction and menace, as if he’d been waiting for the news. When the call ended, she swallowed dryly.

Kia straightened the collar of his priest’s robe and walked into the kitchen. He bent down, stuck out his crimson tongue, and gulped the gushing tap water in great, animal bursts.

Water streamed down his face, but he didn’t care. He simply wiped the droplets away and quietly dragged a chair over.

“Who was that call from?”

Natalia asked in a deliberately casual tone. Sitting across from her, Kia gripped her chin and twisted it left and right without the slightest gentleness. His touch was cold, mechanical.

“Ugh! I asked who called you. Was it her?”

“Our Sonya seems to be far more capable than you.”

“What?”

“She succeeded.”

“…!”

“They’ve been together for over five days now.”

That’s impossible. Her eyes widened.

“Keeps her in the bedroom, never lets her out. The great Solzhenitsyn himself. Your face must not be of much use anymore. Guess that bastard still has an instinct for filth.”

Kia shoved her chin away and grinned like a hook catching flesh.

“Maybe she’s pregnant.”

The way his frozen face slowly twisted was chilling. Natalia pressed her lips together as she watched the unstable look in Kia’s eyes.

Among the many intelligence agencies that had branched off from the KGB, there was likely no one who didn’t know Father Kia.

The Sakhalin Monastery had long served as a secret branch of the KGB, and even now, it was a hub for mission relays, information exchanges, and weapons deals. Though the position of high priest was vacant, Kia was the true authority there.

“Then what am I supposed to be?”

‘Sonya would never abandon me. She told me to wait quietly.’ Kia thought.

The mutter sounded strangely off. He had always been mischievous and depraved, but Natalia had heard he’d been raised with sincere devotion under the monastery’s teachings.

His loyalty lay with Russia, and his faith with God. So what was that woman to him? Watching him tilt his head in a daze, looking hollow and lost, Natalia sensed an opening. She began to think fast, searching for a way to exploit the crack in him.

“Were you lovers?”

She didn’t know much about their relationship; after all, she’d been ambushed the moment she arrived here, but instinct told her something was off. And that made this the perfect chance. She had to push while Kia was wavering.

“Lovers?”

He repeated the word, running his tongue over his smooth teeth before smiling.

“That’s too shallow.”

“….”

“We were bound in a way death itself couldn’t sever.”

His glare was venomous. Without blinking once, Kia began to recite a verse from scripture at rapid speed.

Romans 8:38. Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in creation can separate us. The air around him grew heavy.

Natalia swallowed hard, unnerved by the pressure.

“K-Kia. If Solzhenitsyn really let his guard down, I can go back in. I can pick up where that woman left off, push through whatever barrier she broke! You can take her and run away somewhere, lock her up like me, stay with her as much as you want!”

“Tried that. For half a year.”

“What?”

Expressionless, Kia lifted the rattling chain with one hand.

“But it wasn’t like before.”

He had spent every day stuck to Sonya, yet he no longer felt the old unity. Bringing Sonya home had seemed like getting everything, but as time passed, he felt lonelier and emptier.

The longing he had thought Sonya alone could fill had faded, leaving a deeper hole.

Sonya had clearly changed; even as she flailed in melancholy, she always looked up at the sun. Half a year was short, of course. But would ten years make a difference?