by A. E. King
Panic pulses in my ears. I can’t speak, but I don’t have to. A moment later, my would-be attacker rounds the corner.
Dimitri stiffens and moves me behind him.
“That’s twice in one day, Kostya,” Dimitri says coolly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to start a war.”
“We were just talking. Weren’t we, Yulia?”
I’m afraid that if I speak it will come out as a sob. I press closer to Dimitri, wanting to feel safe behind his protection.
“She has nothing to say to you. Leave now,” Dimitri growls. I cannot fathom how this physically insignificant man has so much boldness that he would threaten me, whose father could have him shot, and Dimitri, who could snap him in half.
“You can’t touch me any more than I can touch you.” Kostya smirks at Dimitri. “But I’m here with a message. I’d hoped to send it in a more enjoyable way.” He leers at me.
“Don’t look at her like that,” Dimitri barks and lunges toward him. I wrap my arms around him, not wanting this exchange to last any longer.
“Let’s go.” I finally find my words. “Dima, please let’s go.” My voice quakes, and I feel frustratingly close to tears.
“Not just yet, Yulia.” Kostya sneers. “I looked forward to hearing your cries all day. But I suppose this will have to do.”
Dimitri tenses, and I press my cheek against his back, forcing him to stay calm and stay with me.
“What’s your message?” Dimitri snarls.
“My family won’t be controlled by Vladimir Bituskaya.” Kostya’s smirk is replaced with a murderous glare.
“You don’t have the authority to pull out of the alliance,” Dimitri says cautiously. “You’re not the head of the family. Or first in line.”
I don’t know what they’re talking about, but it’s clear from Kostya’s reaction that Dimitri just hit a nerve.
“My father is tired of Vladimir’s abuse of authority.”
“Maybe so. But if he wishes to lodge a complaint it would be better to bring it to a meeting than to a dinner party.”
“The Organizatsaya could fall apart faster than your engagement.” Kostya smiles, revealing his yellow teeth. “Don’t underestimate me, Dimitri,” he warns. “And Yulia, my offer stands. You’d be worth millions to me if only to see the look on Dimitri’s face. You could buy yourself something really nice.”
Whatever the Organizatsaya is, I’m sure it’s highly illegal. And if I play my cards right, it might be the key to getting my father removed from office.
Chapter 10
“Chort,” Dimitri curses. He takes my arm and hurries me away from Kostya and toward the palace.
“Slow down, Dimitri.” The straps of my heels cut into my feet during my hasty escape, and every step is a painful reminder. I’m struggling to keep up.
He slows down a little. I jerk my arm out of his grip and stop.
“What was he talking about? what’s the Organiz—”
Dimitri reacts instantly, pulling me into the shadow of a large, sculpted shrub and placing his hand over my mouth. “Lower your voice,” he whispers menacingly. “Are you all right?” He struggles to keep his composure.
“I’m fine.” I push his hand away from me.
“What were you thinking, coming out here? Do you have any idea what could have happened?”
“You’re blaming me?” My anger rises to meet his. “You’re the one involved with criminals, and it’s somehow my fault?”
“Why didn’t you stay put?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“A man told me you wanted to meet me.” I’m frustrated by my own inexperience. He’s acting like I should have been able to foresee this.
“A man you know? A trusted servant?” His face is fierce and inches from mine. “No. A stranger you’ve never met, and you believed him. Think what could have happened!” He waves his hand toward the dark night, and I shudder as I feel Kostya’s arms around me, his rotten breath against my neck.
“How am I supposed to know it wasn’t safe when you tell me nothing? What’s the Organizatsaya?” I whisper to him again.
He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I’m not telling you about the Organizatsaya for your own safety.”
“My safety? Maybe I would have been safer if you had told me, ‘There are dangerous men in the room that wish you harm.’ Instead, you keep me in the dark and let me walk into danger twice in one day. If that’s your idea of protecting me, you’re failing!” My volume is rising as much as I try to control it.
“Fine,” he whispers through gritted teeth and pulls me in so his lips are touching my ear. “The Council is a puppet government. The real reason your father has power is because he’s the leader of the Organizatsaya. He united the seven major crime families in Novaya Russiya, and now they’re the most powerful criminal organization in the world. We don’t have a real government. We’re run by the mafia. And right now, not everyone wants your father in power. They’ve got so many problems; it’s like a powder keg next to a fire. But if this explodes, the whole nation will go up in flames. Kostya wanted to hurt you tonight so that I would retaliate and start a war. I didn’t see him at dinner and thought he had decided to stay home. I assure you, he’s gone rogue. He’s up to something.”
My arms grip Dimitri tightly as I listen to words I want to deny but can’t. Images from my childhood, conversations overheard from my mother, and years of my father’s cruelty and neglect click into place. Dimitri is telling me the truth. For the first time in my life, I think I understand who my father is. Now I understand why the funds I collect are never fully distributed. These people don’t want me to help the nenoozhny. They want me to appease the poor so they can keep their supply chain full. I feel the bile burning in my stomach.
“You’re too smart to wander off because a stranger told you to. What else happened?”
My face burns with shame. He’s right. I should have asked more questions. But I was upset, and I wanted to sneak away so I could fight with Dimitri. My betrayal feels so insignificant compared to the betrayal of our entire nation.
“What else happened?” he demands, grasping my wrist. And then his gaze turns accusatory. “Did you plan to meet with him?” He grabs my other wrist, holding me so tightly that I’m unable to squirm free. “Are you working with them?” He looks dangerous in the moonlight.
“No. Of course not.” I shake my head, angry he would even suggest it. Hot embarrassment burns down my neck at my stupid, shortsighted, emotional escape.
“Then how exactly did you get lured into an unprotected area with your father’s biggest enemy? I need to know so I can ensure that it never happens again.”
“I’d just had an educational conversation with Mariana Evgeny. I was angry, and I thought you noticed and asked to meet with me. I wasn’t thinking clearly.” I say the words quickly as though speed will make them less humiliating.
“When will you learn to control your emotions?” he says with disgust. “I’m sorry that it hurt you, but women are part of my job.”
“‘I’m sorry it hurt you?’ That’s your response to all of this? Not, ‘I’m sorry I’m a cheater.’ Or, ‘I’m sorry I betrayed my country?’” My voice shakes as I try to control my volume. “Well, I’m sorry I can’t be as heartless as you. I still feel things. You expect me just to turn that off?”
“No, don’t turn it off. Harness it, channel it. Let it fuel you.”
“I won’t end up like my mother, trapped in a cheating, loveless marriage while my husband destroys the country I love.”
“Chort, Yulia!” he curses again. “I’m trying to keep you safe. But if you do stupid things like this, I can guarantee that you’ll end up with a bullet in your brain.”
“You’re just like him,” I say, wanting to injure him.
“I’m not your father.” His voice shakes, barely able to contain his rage. “And you’re not your mother.”
“Well, maybe one day we’ll be
lucky and he will join her in the ground,” I say. Too loud. Much too loud. I clasp my hands over my mouth, wishing I could recall each word and swallow them so they could never be used against me. My father would consider them treason, and I just said them out in the open.
Dimitri scans the grounds and then the treeline of the woods. He pulls me close to his chest as though trying to shield me from invisible attackers.
“Dimitri.” I push back against him. “Let me go,” I say uncertainly, because his fear is scaring me, and because part of me feels safer with his arms around me. Even if it’s a lie.
“You have no idea who is listening and what they can do to us,” he whispers menacingly. “I’m doing everything in my power to make sure you don’t end up like your mother.”
He grabs my hand and begins walking toward the palace again, dragging me as I struggle in my dress and heels behind him.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask.
“Reckless. You’d rather stand here and argue than finish our assignment. But I care about those kids. And this is the closest I’ve been to making a difference. I won’t let you screw it up for them.”
He’s right, and it makes me even angrier. I hate that he plays the role of both villain and savior. He robs me of my ability to despise him for his crimes when he also works toward redemption. Right now, I’m aching for his condemnation.
He continues walking too fast, and all I can do is jog to keep up.
“Half your family is dead,” he says. “Don’t think for a second that you don’t have a bullet pointed at your head. Remember that when you’re smiling and feigning love with me in front of the cameras. It’s more than just our lives that depend on it.”
I loathe him for being right. How could I be so stupid?
We get close enough to the palace that I can hear the music coming from inside. I see people milling around the veranda in the cool summer evening.
Dimitri stops abruptly by one of the sculpted shrubs and takes one more crazed look around before whispering menacingly to me, “Kiss me like you mean it until someone finds us here and assumes this is all that’s been going on.”
He pushes my back up against the shrub and glares at me, his eyes so charged they might explode. He’s inches from me, red in the face and breathing heavily. But he doesn’t move. He’s waiting for my permission.
I close my eyes and lean in before I have time to doubt myself. Then his mouth is on mine. Demanding, controlling, and crazed. His lips are angry against my trembling ones. I can’t find a rhythm with him. He gives up and moves his mouth to my neck.
He radiates heat and anger. The contrast with the brisk night air causes me to shiver. He engulfs me in his arms in response to my trembling, trying to hold me together.
Raw emotions pulse through me. Fear, rage, betrayal, and desire threaten to turn into tears, and I can feel a hard lump forming in my throat. I cannot be found crying as my future husband touches me. But my emotions demand action.
So I do the only thing I can at the moment. I take everything I feel and harness it, fueling and stoking the desire. I pull his lips to mine and kiss him like I mean it. And I like it.
My lips press against his, equally frantic, equally desperate. My hands pull him closer and demand that his body pay restitution for all the damage he has done. My anger awakes an insane passion—one moment of blissful denial. And the line between fire and passion is blurred. They are one; we are one.
Dimitri moves his hand up and down my body, grabbing my leg and hitching it around his thigh. My ears are full of the thumping of our hearts and the heaviness of our breath.
Click. I jump as though the camera were a gunshot. Dimitri lays his head against my chest and sighs with relief. One of the press has arrived to take a picture. Probably American. They always forget that the only images that leave Novaya Russiya, are the ones we approve.
However, this photographer is not the only one to have taken notice of our romantic interlude. Someone catcalls to us. Dimitri squeezes my hand. He turns around and, with an air of bravado, he declares to the crowd, “Can you blame me?” He turns to me, a smile on his lips but fire simmering in his eyes. He gives me another kiss and pulls a leaf out of my hair. The crowd laughs before returning to their conversations.
I try to force a smile on my face. My heart beats too fast—and my body trembles in this strange mixture of desire and dread.
I search the crowd and find my father. He’s not smiling. He’s looking at me with distrust. Until someone comes to shake his hand and congratulate him, and the mask returns.
Dimitri does not let me out of his sight for the rest of the night.
I wish the departing guests could all just leave so I can retreat into the comfort of solitude. But they wait, one by one, to say good night to me, Dimitri, and my father. Dimitri is gruff and rushed with each guest. I think he’s as eager to be done with this day as I am.
“Yulia.” Mariana Evgeny stands with her family and offers me a haughty glare. Her mother’s nose is in the air as though all of this is beneath her. Mariana beams at Dimitri. “Dimitri, I hope we’ll see you again soon.”
He scowls down at her, and her simpering smile transforms into the look of a scorned woman. She turns back to me. “It was so good to catch up, Yulia. I look forward to sharing more stories the next time we’re together.” She bows to my father then walks toward the door. Dimitri’s jaw tightens. My stomach turns. I wouldn’t want to share a car with her, let alone a husband.
Dimitri places his hand behind my back and rubs his thumb against my skin in what feels like a silent apology.
Finally, the line of goodbyes disappears and only bustling servants remain.
“It’s been a long day.” My father turns to leave.
Dimitri gives me a look, and I ask, “Well? Did we accomplish the goal?”
He pauses, and I wait with bated breath. Dimitri appears bored as though he couldn’t care less about the outcome.
“Where did you disappear to?” He trains his eyes on me, squinting as if it will assist him in deciphering the truth.
“We thought sneaking out together would sell the story.” I recite the prepared lie.
“Then why not leave together? More people would have seen it,” he questions, and my palms start to sweat under his scrutiny. He doesn’t believe me.
“It might look staged to our critics,” Dimitri interjects. “Trying not to be noticed is more believable.”
“Fine.” He concedes, and I smile in exhausted gratitude. “You displayed some potential in diplomacy. And you showed a hint of chemistry. I’ll let you have your victory tonight. But remember, everything given can be taken away. You have a lot to prove, Yulia. Good night. I’m tired. You can head over first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Good. I’ve already ordered the privacy block. I’ll call in the activation order,” Dimitri says.
“You look hopeful.” My father pats Dimitri cruelly on the cheek. “Privacy won’t lessen your chances of rejection. It will simply lessen the number of people that witness it. The more she knows you, the less she’ll want you.”
Dimitri flinches, and I have the irrational urge to contradict him. But I suspect my father is right.
“Remember children, when I see less I watch more.” His security team follows as he departs, and I find myself alone with a highly complicated man.
Chapter 11
Dimitri bursts into my apartment without an invitation. He closes the heavy linen drapes. He checks the dressing closets and my bathroom. He looks at the walls, at the lights, under the bed.
I close the door, unsure what to think of tonight and wait silently as he assesses my room.
“It’s clean,” he says with relief. He has dropped the arrogant tone I associate with Dimitri the henchman.
He sits down on my bed, running his fingers through his hair. His shoulders slump with weariness and his eyebrows are drawn together in worry. His appearance almost elicits sympathy from me. But he has a
n uncanny ability to camouflage himself to lure in whomever he wants, and I won’t fall into his trap.
I tentatively move toward the bed and sit a few feet away from him. “What were you looking for?” I ask.
“You were threatened twice in one day. I’m looking for anything that looks dangerous.”
My heart feels raw after hours of adrenaline and stress.
“You upset some very dangerous men today.” He rubs his hands against his temples.
“Who is Kostya?” I ask him quietly.
“Kostya Dragovich is the younger son of Maxim Dragovich, the leader of one of the seven families. The Organizatsaya is a governing board of sorts. They have rules and agreements. Your father helps them handle disputes and ensures they have free rein without any obstacles from law enforcement. They’ve made him extremely powerful. But as you saw tonight, there’s conflict right now.”
“What type of conflict?”
“Money, greed, power plays. Kostya is the most dangerous type of fool. Just smart enough to start an all-out war, but too stupid to realize what that would mean.”
“And you work for these people?” I ask knowing I will hate the answer.
He nods.
“What do you do?”
“Whatever Vladimir orders me to do,” he says bitterly.
Is that what my life is about to become as well? No. Because I would never accept that.
He looks my way and slides closer to me, taking my hand. “The deal fell apart after you came in. It took months to negotiate.” He groans in frustration. “Nothing about today has gone the way I thought it would. I wish I had never written you that stupid note.”
“Something good did come out of this day. Those children didn’t go to Kostya,” I say trying to regain a sense of control.
“No, Yulia, it isn’t good. They went to the other buyer. Kostya is a fool. But I have allies inside his organization and we had plans to transport the children out of the country and into a rehabilitation program. Now they’re all lost.”