I remember I must've walked about a mile or more that night; I knew I had to get out of the city of Tallin. My legs ached and I was getting tired of hauling my bag around; I didn't realize how many dresses I had packed. It felt like a ton. I stopped to rest a moment on the sidewalk. It was a cold, crisp night and I was shivering. I felt stupid too. I had no money with me, no weapon. Hell, I just escaped from my own house and murdered two people, I wasn't thinking clearly when I left.

But oh boy, was I thinking now! Great, I did all of this shit for nothing! Now I'm going to sit here and freeze to death or starve. But I remembered then, I was dressed like a child, so perhaps someone would take pity on me.

I wished I knew where Veera was. I'd run to her in a heartbeat. But I haven't heard from my twin in years. I bet she was doing a lot better than I was right now.

I looked around at where I was. I was definetly not in the nice part of Estonia, that was for damn sure. Nothing but alleyways where hobos and druggies slept. Well, this is your life now, Leena, I thought bitterly; better get used to it.

With a sigh I stood up and grabbed my bag again, walking to who knows where; I just wanted to find a place to sleep.

I wasn't paying much attention to my surroundings, so the sound of a car driving behind me didn't faze me much. I hadn't realized I was being followed until I rounded a corner, and the car sped up so fast it was right in front of me before I knew it. My first thought was that it was the police. Shit!

I took off running fast but the man caught up to me and grabbed me from behind. I tried to scream but he put a rag in my mouth and started dragging me back to the vehicle. I kicked and fought for dear life, trying to use my bag as a weapon, but to no avail. I froze when I felt the barrell of a gun against my back.

"Don't try to fight me, little bitch, or I will kill you!" The man sneered. I still couldn't see his face yet.

Before I knew it I was thrown into the back of the car, locked inside. The mysterious man got in the driver's seat and immediately sped off.

I felt like my heart was beating out of my chest. This wasn't the police. I was being fucking kidnapped!

I sat up straight and yanked the rag out of my mouth. "Who the hell are you? Where the fuck are you taking me?!" I demanded answers, my voice anything but childlike.

"The fuck?!" The man glanced back at me, looking bewildered. "You're not a kid?!"

"Fuck no!" I glared, "What? You like 'playing' with little girls?"

The car swerved has he came to a halt at the side of a curb. I thought he was going to kick me out, but he turned on the lights inside the car instead. He was just staring at me in shock, taking a second look at my appearance.

I glanced him over to. He looked older, about my Father's age, and he had dark hair and five o'clock shadow. He looked rather handsome to me, even if he was a kidnapper.

"How old are you really?" He questioned.

"What's it to you? Don't you want a real child?"

He didn't answer that. He took notice of my bag and nodded to it.

"You on the run?"

I nodded, "I thought you were the cops."

"What did you do?"

"I just finished murdering two people," I said this matter-of-factly but coldly, letting him know I wasn't afraid to do it again right here.

"I guess you need a place to stay, huh? And some money? I can arrange that."

"How? And how do I know you won't turn me in?"

He chuckled, "You'll be working for me, darling. And why would I turn you in when you're so valuable?"

Valuable, me? At first I didn't understand what this creep meant. But then it became all too clear. He wanted to be my pimp.

I shook my head in disgust, "I'm not a damn whore!"

"Really? Because I can hook you up with some very wealthy men that have a 'peculiar' fetish. And since you're really an adult, well, then no harm is really done, and those men can still keep their morals."

Morals? I almost laughed. I didn't know the meaning of the word myself; killing two people in one night can do that to you. I had to admit, he was getting me intrigued. Or maybe it was just his good looks that reminded me of my handsome (dead) Father. Besides, God (if there was one) only knows how desperate I am right now. Perhaps this was my lucky night after all.

"How much money are we talking?"

The man grinned, "A lot. 200 to 300 kroons per client. I get a small percentage, of course. But I'll give you a roof over your head and food for free. How does that sound to you? Are you in?"

I wasn't sure what I was walking into, but I did know a lot about sex. And the pay didn't sound bad at all. Who knows, maybe I could get a client to actually love me? I was determined to prove my Father wrong.

I nodded firmly. "I'm in."

"Good," he smiled and gave me a wink, before turning the lights back off and putting the car in drive again. "So, what's your name, darling?"

"Leena Ivanova," I lied: like hell was I about to give him my real last name. I wasn't that stupid.

"I'm Maksim." He never gave me his last name.

So, here I was, about to start my new life as a prostitute. I thought it was kind of funny, how I accused Irene of being a slut and now look at me, about to become one myself. Life's full of irony and surprises.

And I hoped beyond hope that I'd find love with this new 'job'...