As promised! The improved version of my very first fic! It's about Alex's life before Nikita, but after Operation Pale Fire. English is not my first language, so please tell me if you find any errors. REVIEWS ARE LOVE!

I don't own anything, sadly...

Enjoy!

The girl quivered as she hid behind the old pieces of cloth. She didn't understand who the men were or what they were doing there. Her Papa's old driver, Ilya, had told her absolutely nothing, only that they were going to 'take care of her'. What the hell did he even mean by that? It could never be good, because the leader of the two looked extremely scary. He looked a bit like one of the bad guys from the American movies that her Papa had never allowed her to watch, when he was still – The girl broke her line of thought there. She knew she'd break down crying if she thought about her father too much and of course, she couldn't show tears. She couldn't. Crying equaled weakness, and weakness was something your enemies and rivals would always use against you if you gave them the chance. Or so her Papa had taught her all her life.

She refocused on what was going on in the room, although she couldn't make out a lot from where she was hiding. In fact, all she could see was one of the men giving Ilya a thick wad of money. Oh my God, he sold me! He sold me to them! She cringed as the realization of what had just happened set in.. She knew enough about this kind of shady business to have at least a vague idea of who these men were, and what they were probably going to do with her.

Ilya walked toward her hiding place. She looked at him with fear evident on her face. She tried to hide it, but she failed. Mentally slapping herself, she thought back to one of the lessons her Papa had worked so hard to teach her.

Do not show your enemies your fear, Alexandra. They will see it, and they will use it against you. Never before had she fully understood how true the lesson was – and how hard it was to live up to it.

Ilya knelt in front of her.

"I cannot hide you anymore. Dangerous men are searching for you, and whoever is sheltering you!" At least he had the decency to sound apologetic. Looking at the men that gave Ilya money, she shyly asked him who they were. Not that she actually expected an answer. He might not even know their real names. Just as she had thought, Ilya avoided the question.

"These men don't know who you are."

"Are they taking me to safety?" Not that she believed they would. She just wanted to be lied to for a little while longer. She just wanted Ilya to fool her into thinking that she would be safe, that everything would be okay... but he didn't. Instead, he looked at her has if he regretted something.

"Your life will be safe...", he half-whispered.

Well, that's reassuring. Thanks a bunch. The sarcastic, angry answer was on the tip of her tongue and she would've said too, it if not for the fact that she didn't have the energy to be angry anymore.

Sick and tired of being scared and angry, the girl finally gave up trying to deny what was happening. She looked at Ilya accusingly. "You sold me to them, didn't you? I saw it!"

He tried to explain. "I have children of my own to feed. If I wanted to sell you to the highest bidder, I'd have gone to the new head of Zetrov and you'd be dead by now!"

That sentence made her sad. She remembered seeing her Papa fall, dying, saying her name with his last breath.

'Alexandra...'

Alexandra looked down, at the last thing she had to remember him by. His old watch. She stroked it with her thumb, drawing comfort from the cool gold. Her movement caught Ilya's eye, as he looked down at it too and then back at her eyes.

"Put that thing away. People will wonder who it belongs to. Don't tell anyone you're a Udinov. It will be a death sentence for you, and anyone who ever knew you."

Ilya gave her time to hide it in her sock but before she knew it he had yanked her out of her hiding place and steered her towards the men. The leader looked at her and smirked.

"You must be Sascha," he drawled. He had a heavy Russian accent, which made her wonder why he even spoke in English. For all he knew, she was a peasant girl who might not even speak the language. "Very nice to meet you. Vlad."

And with those words, the girl finally fully understood that her life as Alexandra Udinov, heiress to a company worth a billion-dollars by the name of Zetrov and virtually a princess, was over. Her life as Sascha, just another Russian peasant girl, one of many, had begun.

Loved it? Hated it? Leave me you thoughts! Reviews are love!

Future chapters WILL be longer!

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