Chapter 1 — Chapter 1

Stacy... That's what everyone called me throughout my childhood—I never heard any other name.

My mother was always off somewhere. Right after finishing school, I enrolled in a vocational school without much thought—it at least had its own bed, unlike the shared one in my mother's communal room.

*He*—my first love, a thug and a scoundrel, but never with me. Picking me out from the crowd of freshman girls, *he* methodically courted me. Tall, slender, moderately muscular, with a piercing steel gaze that softened when he looked at me. His blond hair was always tousled, and I always wanted to smooth it down.

Though I didn't consider myself a great beauty, I looked attractive. My short chestnut hair, cut in the latest fashion, always fell into any hairstyle effortlessly. My aristocratic face featured green eyes framed by long, lush lashes and nicely shaped, not-too-large lips. My too-pale skin didn't tan well, but that didn't stop me from spending all summer at the local river. I wasn't shy about my toned young body, which already had some curves.

I was only seventeen back then. Everything seemed so interesting and appealing, but strangely, *he* was patient, and it always ended with kisses. *He* would just sigh and hold me close.

"What are we waiting for?" I asked one day, unable to hold back.

"I want you to take this step as an adult," he said, kissing me, and then left again.

I didn't tell the girls about us; I wasn't ready to share something so intimate. Plus, I never really formed friendships with them. By habit, I was unsociable and didn't dare to confide in anyone. Left with the neighbors, I grew up with the neighborhood boys. I was always walking around with scraped knees and scratched hands—the abandoned construction site was our favorite playground. Later, one of the "guys" got into parkour and got me into it too. The same boys taught me to fight—by fourteen, I could break anyone's nose who crossed the line. They called me Wild—that nickname stuck to me like glue.

I was grateful to my mother for only two things: for giving birth to me and for the money she provided.

When I told her I got into a law college, she was surprised. She sat down on a chair and just stared at me for a few minutes.

"You finished school?"

"Yes, Mom. I'm sixteen, and I graduated with good grades," I sighed heavily. My mother didn't care about me.

Every two to three months, she'd bring me a bag of clothes and some money. So, despite her neglect, I was well-dressed, and thanks to the neighbors, always fed.

"You've grown up... A dormitory?" she asked tiredly.

"Yes," I nodded.

"Good, that's probably the right thing... I'll help, even though I know I'm a bad mother... But I won't abandon you... until you're on your feet."

Even then, I knew she didn't work as a shop clerk, as she told everyone. One of the boys let it slip—his mother was gossiping about it with someone. I just beat the boy up for speaking ill of my mother, and it was never discussed in my presence again.

***

Victor... That's what his parents named him, but he long ago forbade anyone to call him that. He was called Victor, and that suited him just fine.

On my eighteenth birthday, he threw a real party, something I never even dreamed of. Did I even know what a party was?

A table for two awaited me at a restaurant, and a hotel room where everything happened for the first time.

He was careful, kissing and caressing my body for a long time, making me shiver with both desire and fear. The kisses started at my neck and slowly trailed down my body. Victor traced the tight buds of my nipples with his lips and tongue. Reaching my stomach, he suddenly moved between my legs, which I tried to shyly close, and pressed himself firmly against me.

Running a finger along my folds, he gently parted them and circled the tender nub of flesh. I shuddered at the new sensation and moaned.

Looking at me, Victor smiled and suddenly kissed my folds. He started playing with the nub with his tongue, sucking on it. His tongue dove into my wet entrance, then his fingers took over, stretching the walls of my pussy. Continuing to give pleasure with his mouth, Victor waited until I shuddered and moaned louder, clenching his fingers in the throes of my first orgasm.

When I opened my eyes, he slowly rose, caressing my body, and kissed me deeply, letting me taste the spicy flavor of my orgasm. Thrusting into me, he struggled to reach my virginity and paused, letting me get used to it. I just froze in anticipation. With a sharp thrust, he broke through my hymen and sighed with relief.

"I've waited so long for this, my girl... You're so sensual..."

He made love to me all night, letting me feel every facet of his passionate affection.

A month of meetings in cafes and hotels. Then I took my exams, moving to my third year... and he vanished. Disappeared in a single day. I tried to find him, not understanding what was happening. But Victor's phone just kept repeating that the subscriber was unavailable.

Unable to bear it, I cornered one of Victor's friends and simply asked,

"Where is he?"

"Leave and don't come back if you don't want trouble. He's gone. He was killed," the guy spat out.

I don't remember how I left or where my feet took me, but I came to on a bench in the park...