To My Gentle Dictator – Chapter 002

His voice was as smooth as honey—almost intoxicatingly gentle.

The prisoner was at a loss for words. How could a man who had just ordered his arm to be frozen and shattered offer him a cigarette with such kindness?

He had heard plenty of horror stories about the NSS, but he had never imagined that such a beautiful lunatic existed within its ranks.

“P-Please… Stop. I’ll talk. I’ll tell you everything. Just—please, no more…”

“Don’t give in so easily.”

Lighting his cigarette, Ulrich arched a perfectly sculpted brow.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a revolutionary of the new era?”

“N-No! That’s not what I meant—I’ll confess everything! I admit it, I was planning the attack at the station! I’ll give you the names of everyone involved!”

The prisoner had begun to sob, desperately pleading for them to accept his confession.

Outside the interrogation room, two agents exchanged knowing glances and smirks.

“Back in the country for less than a day, and he’s already making waves.”

“Right? Freezing an arm—that’s a method I’d never have thought of. As expected of the Major—”

“You mean the Director now.”

As of noon today, Vasily Proverka’s final shift had ended, and Ulrich Kastrov had officially taken his place as their new Director.

Lowering their voices, the two agents chuckled.

“So, is the former Director off to see his ex-fiancée again? Damn, I’m jealous. I saw her once, and—hell, she’s a fucking knockout—”

“Yeah, but that woman’s got the worst luck imaginable. And now, her little brother just had to go and beat the shit out of the former Director’s younger brother—”

“Wait, the former Director has a younger brother?”

“Half-brother, apparently. The Supreme Commander had a kid back in the day—”

“Could you give me that address?”

Neither of them had noticed when the interrogation room door had opened.

As they looked up in surprise, they were met with a breathtakingly beautiful smile—one that belonged to Ulrich.

“I think I need to pay the former Director a visit.”

“O-Of course! If you need a driver, we’d be happy to—”

“That won’t be necessary. It’s been a while since I’ve driven myself.”

* * *

“It’s a good thing the imperial family fell. If a bastard like your brother had lived his whole life as a prince, abusing his power, we all know exactly how this country would have ended up.”

Vasily muttered the words as he tossed the cane onto the dining table, lighting another cigarette. His cold gaze fixated on Sasha.

“Not that he’d even know… that his sister is living like this.”

As if he had any right to say that after being the one to beat her.

Sasha stood on the chair, her entire body drenched in sweat, trembling violently.

Vasily was an imposing man, his sheer size and powerful build enough to make most men shrink in intimidation.

Under his merciless beating, her delicate calves had turned into a grotesque mess of dark bruises and torn skin, fresh blood trickling down in places where the flesh had split open.

“Hic…”

A broken hiccup escaped through her swollen lips, already split and bloodied from biting down too hard.

The pain was so overwhelming she could barely keep her eyes open, yet she didn’t dare lower the hem of her skirt.

She was terrified that breaking her posture might displease Vasily and set him off again.

As she shuddered, anticipating when the next strike might come, a sharp tsk clicked against her ears.

“You should’ve come to me back then. Instead of that bastard Ulrich.”

Vasily ground out his cigarette on the edge of the table, grabbed his coat, and turned toward the door.

“Who knows? Maybe if you had, I would’ve sided with the imperial family instead of the military.”

The front door slammed shut with a resounding thud, making the small apartment tremble.

Even long after Vasily had left, Sasha remained frozen in place. Only when she was certain he was gone did she finally unclench her fists, releasing the death grip on her skirt.

She tried to step down from the chair, but the world spun violently around her. The chair toppled over with a loud crash, and she collapsed onto the freezing wooden floor, letting out a faint, ragged whimper.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the small balcony window, casting a crimson glow over her tear- and sweat-streaked face.

Her ears still rang, the lingering effects of the pain refusing to subside. And through that endless ringing, Vasily’s parting words echoed in her mind.

‘You should’ve come to me back then. Instead of that bastard Ulrich.’

Sasha had always known that Vasily saw what happened three years ago as a personal betrayal.

But knowing didn’t mean she could understand it.

She had never cheated, never tried to break off their engagement. And if anything, she was the one who had been betrayed.

Sasha had been the one forced to watch as the imperial family was torn apart, stabbed in the back by her fiancé’s own household.

And yet, Vasily acted as if she had been the one to break things off. As if he were the one who had been betrayed.

“Haa…”

Suppressing the tremors in her breath, Sasha forced herself to sit up.

Even standing upright was a struggle, but she couldn’t afford to waste time lying around. She still had sewing and knitting orders to finish before nightfall.

The thought of worrying about needlework in a moment like this was almost laughable, even to her. But if she didn’t, she wouldn’t even have enough to eat.

More than anything, she had to gather the settlement money for Kiril.

‘Selling my body would be faster.’

A bitter, self-mocking smile twisted at the corner of her torn lips.

Vasily was right. No matter how hard she worked at these menial tasks, there was no way she could ever come up with such an enormous sum.

Letting him beat her to his heart’s content and hoping he’d eventually tire of it would probably be a more efficient method.

“Ah…!”

She barely managed to stand before her knees buckled again, a sharp, searing pain shooting through her swollen, bruised calves.

“Haa…”

Her breath came out in ragged gasps, but she clenched her fists and pushed herself up once more. She had no other choice.

There wasn’t even a proper ointment in the house. Sasha crawled toward the balcony, pushing open the loose glass door.

The cold was unbearable, yet she found herself relieved that it was winter.

Scooping up a handful of snow with her bare hands, she carefully pressed it against her bruised skin. As the icy sensation numbed the pain, tears welled up and trickled down her cheeks once more.

If I had made a different choice that day three years ago… would anything have changed?

Would I have at least been spared from being beaten like a stray dog by the man who was once my fiancé?

Before the revolution, Sasha had been a naive girl, completely oblivious to domestic affairs or politics.

She had been a foolish imperial princess, too ignorant to realize how the parliament and the military were seething over the disgusting doctor her parents had brought in for her ailing brother.

A silly girl who had harbored a fleeting crush—not on her betrothed, but on her brother’s handsome friend.

And yet, on that fateful day, she hadn’t gone to Ulrich simply because of her girlish infatuation.

Even as her fiancé, Vasily had always felt distant—cold and unapproachable.

Ulrich, on the other hand, had been her brother’s friend. He had been kind.

She had thought that maybe—just maybe—he would listen to her concerns without a scowl or irritation.

She had wanted to confide in him about that repulsive doctor who constantly used consultations as an excuse to touch the hem of her skirt. About how her family had been acting more and more strangely.

Most of all, at the time, Ulrich had been a celebrated air force officer—a hero of the last great war.

She hadn’t fully understood the conversation she overheard between her parents and that doctor—that every Republican officer should be purged.

All she had known was that Ulrich was in danger. And so, she had gone to him.

She had only wanted to talk. That was all.

“Hah…!”

Lost in thought, Sasha was jolted back to reality by a sudden, earth-shaking crash.

The entire apartment trembled as a deafening boom echoed through the streets.

An instant later, a car alarm blared like a wailing siren, rattling the dilapidated building.

With wide, tear-soaked eyes, Sasha clung to the railing and peered down.

Her blurry vision took in the sight of a car stopped motionless in the middle of the street—an unfamiliar vehicle.

And right in front of it, crumpled like a crushed tin can, was Vasily’s wrecked car.

 

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ✩ ﾟ｡ ⋆

☕ Hi, friends! Your support means the world to me. If you’d like, you can buy me a star here: Click the link on the image! 💖

Thank you for keeping me inspired! 🌸

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ✩ ﾟ｡ ⋆