'I did love you and it's killing me; now I would rather die than taking you hand again.' The words that had haunted him. The words after which his Lenochka, his Lia had thrown herself off the cliff, six years back- never to be found again. They came to hit him as a lightening bolt again when he saw the woman he was currently holding in his arms. Constantly looking over her shoulder then back at him. Wanting to run from trouble she had gotten herself into somehow. She was desperate to run from the cops and men who thought she had killed some people. Dangerous people. Well, she didn't. She lived in homeless shelter to help people there, how could she kill people from underworld out of everyone. When she didn't even remember much of her life and every day now was survival. She looked up at him, in the cold eyes that had a slight hint of vulnerability.

His grip didn't losen. His arm firmly wrapped around her waist. Holding her in position that she would fall back if he retrieved the arm. Drinking her in. She was like Lia. Exactly like her.

"Lenochka.." He breathed out.

And he knew what would happen. She was going to pay the price for running around looking like his Cicilia that he had lost. And he would make no mistakes this time.