by Raven Scott
Surprise nearly stopped my heart and I sucked in a sharp breath as my dad’s crackly voice flooded the thin space between my brain and skull. “Vanessa? She came to Russia?” If there was one person I missed from America, it was Vanessa and I smiled fondly. “With her boyfriend? I’d love to catch up.”
“Yes. So, would you like to meet somewhere?”
“Ah, let me ask my wife.”
Yelene let out a squawk, turning to stare at me with wide eyes.
I held my phone to my chest to clear my throat. “My father wants to see me. If it makes you uncomfortable, we can meet somewhere else.”
“Oh, no. No. You don’t have to go. I’ll make more…” Determination set her shoulders, but worry dragged down her delicate face. “You didn’t have to ask, Igra.”
My smile widened as she pulled up her hair into a high bun. “You’re my girl, malen’kaya ptitsa. Of course, I would take what you want and feel into consideration.”
Yelene blushed furiously, mumbling to herself.
I put my phone to my ear with a grin. “Dad? You’re more than welcome here. How far away are you?”
“Fifteen minutes or so.” We exchanged brief pleasantries before hanging up, and I stood up to set my phone on the table. For a long moment, I stared at the screen as it darkened and went black, but I couldn’t go back, now. Carlyle Santino himself would be at my flat, and Vanessa, and my father…“I’m going to go get changed. Do you want me to lay out something for you?”
Yelene nodded, hovering over the stove.
I went to my bedroom to pull out a nicer set of clothes. A t-shirt and jeans wouldn’t do, meeting with people like my father and Carlyle, and I rifled through my drawers absently. My mind wandered to what, possibly, this could be about, because it didn’t involve business. I’d never been very involved in the actual businesses my father had started and Aleksander took over. I wasn’t proud of my role in the family, per se, but if I hadn’t done what Aleksander demanded, I might not be alive.
Of course, I can’t say for sure he would’ve killed me if I said ‘no’, but it’s not a risk one wants to take.
Technically, I was employed by Makovich Industries as a consultant simply because my father wanted all of us in the business somehow. Every so often, I’d have to attend a meeting or something. Even less often, I would have to kill someone Aleksander had a petty squabble with. Over the years, I mostly found myself travelling all over Russia just to pass the time.
I loved my country and seeing more it only intensified that love. Surely, things were unstable and had been since the fall of the Soviet Union, but every country had its failings. Russia was the largest country in the world; I could explore it every day, all day, for the rest of my life, and never run out of new things to discover.
“Ah-hah.” Pulling out a nice pair of black slacks, I set them on the bed to walk over to the closet. Over the past weeks, Yelene had slowly started putting her things away, and I couldn’t help but smile at the great divide in the closet. She had a box of jewelry she’d pilfered from Ophelia, and a few pairs of shoes, but her half of the closet was pretty sparse. “Maybe, I should take her shopping.”
Yelene had a pretty, light grey, woolen dress and matching stockings. I gingerly pulled it off the hanger. I grabbed a matching button down before leaving the closet, and a small smile stretched my lips. She would like it if we matched.
Changing out of my lounge clothes, I ran my hands through my hair absently. I sincerely hoped that accepting this get-together wasn’t going to blow up in my face. Yelene had never met my father or Carlyle Santino, and both together would probably give her a heart attack. She was such a gentle soul, so worry wormed deep into my chest.
“I doubt this is simply a social call.” Pulling my shirt over my head, I grabbed my button down to rub the silk fabric between my fingers. My concern wasn’t going to be placated until it happened. Just a few minutes from now. Shoving my legs into my slacks, I wandered out of my bedroom as I zipped myself up.
Yelene was staring into the steam billowing from the pasta pot. She shook her head and rubbed her cheeks with her palms.
“I’ll watch the pasta so you can get ready.”
She nodded tentatively at me.
I walked over to the stove as she passed me by. I’ll apologize for the abruptness later.
My father was a firm believer in not giving much time to prepare, and he credited his life on that philosophy. I found it mightily inconvenient, but my father didn’t expect me to drop what I was doing on a dime for him. He had that going for him, at the very least.
The minutes ticked by slowly, so I tensed when a firm knock echoed through my apartment. They were a bit early, but I straightened my shoulders and headed for the front door. My heart pounded a little harder, as I straightened my shirt before opening the door.
Smiling at me, my father held out his hands.
I took them to draw him through the threshold. “Hi, Dad. How was your day?”
He only nodded curtly.
I held out my hand for Carlyle as my dad swept past me. “Carlyle.”
“Igra.”
I ground my teeth against the grating tone of Carlyle’s voice, and he eyeballed me critically. “You look less miserable than the last time we saw each other.”
He spoke English to me and I rolled my eyes when Carlyle breezed past me. Vanessa smiled friendly at me and I shook her and David’s hand before gesturing them inside.
“You have a nice place, Igra. More importantly—why didn’t you tell me you were married?” Shooting me a playful, accusatory look, Vanessa punched my shoulder gingerly. “It wasn’t after you came back, was it?”
“It’s a bit complicated, Ness.” She got the hint not to keep asking, and I shut the door as everyone made themselves comfortable. My English had gotten better over the few months I was in America, but it still felt weird on my tongue. “How was your meeting with Ophelia?”
“It didn’t go how we expected at all. I’m not gonna lie. Ophelia’s got some big stones. I knew to be cautious because we’re on her turf, but…” Vanessa shrugged.
My dad snorted to grab my attention as he sat on the sofa. “She’s quite the force. I’m sure this country will get better with her at the helm of the Industries, but that’s not why we stopped by, Igra. As you know, your sister was supposed to stay in America to deal with our partnership.”
Alarms rang in my head at that, and I frowned openly at my father when he paused.
He shook his head. “I’m not going to ask you to go there. I know you hated it. I want to suggest you taking over her role in the company.”
“We agreed that I’d stay in my current role, Dad. I’m more than comfortable doing nothing for money and leeching off your success.” I wasn’t entertaining this again and I waved my hand sharply. “No. No. And no again.”
“I’m not going to force you, Igra. I just wanted to get it out of the way before offering it to your brother.”
Which one? Nodding curtly, I let the subject drop when I saw Yelene peek through the bedroom door out of the corner of my eye.
“I’m very curious about your stay in America,” my father stated.
“First….” Gesturing to Yelene, I held out my hand for her.
She gulped harshly before jutting out her chin and walking over.
“This is my wife, Yelene,” I announced.
25
Yelene
I wished in this moment more than anything, that I spoke English, anxiety jabbed my chest with each beat of my heart. Conversation swirled around me just above my head, as I glanced up from the edge of the table hesitantly.
Carlyle Santino sat right across from me and my knees bounced furiously under the table when his steely, dark eyes met mine. The blood drained from my body as I ducked my head and tried to become small in my chair. My stomach threatened to roll inside out, as the smell of pasta and meat sauce tantalized the back of my throat. If I opened my mouth, I wasn’t sure what would
come out. My nervousness radiated from me through my thick dress, and all the words that hung heavy in the air were garbled gibberish.
You don’t know how it is until you experience it. That was what Igra said when talking about Carlyle, and my skin crawled at the aura that rolled off Carlyle Santino’s shoulders. I wanted to hide in the deepest hole in the Earth, but even then, he’d see me. How could anyone stand him, let alone get close to him? Everything about Carlyle screamed ‘don’t mess with me.’ And that was exactly what I intended to do. Thank God, we live on different sides of the world.
But…even then, I knew Carlyle’s reach extended to Russia. How could it not? He was sitting right across from me.
“Yelene?” Leaning over to mumble in my ear, Igra grabbed my hand under the table to squeeze reassuringly. “It won’t be much longer.”
I only nodded, not darting to open my mouth, and gulped down the nervousness that balled in my throat. Igra didn’t say anything else, but his calm, low tone lifted some of the fog in my mind. Taking a shallow, stabilizing breath through my nose, I flexed my fingers under the table before grabbing my fork. Just the thought of eating supper made bile slosh up my throat, but I determined to push it around my bowl and cut the pieces in half.
“Dad, I’ve been wondering about a box we found above the stove. Do you know anything about it?” For the first time since sitting down, Russian was spoken. “I assumed you’ve been keeping this place up for me while I was in America?” Igra cast his father a curious look.
“I do not, no. It wasn’t there before you left?”
Relief slumped my shoulders that I could finally follow the conversation.
Igra shook his head.
His father sat back a little, thoughtfulness flooding his dark eyes as he stroked his chin. “I’m not sure, Igra. I can look into it, if you’d like.”
“I’d appreciate that. Thank you.”
When I looked around, everyone else had already finished eating. Mine was the only full plate, and mortification burned my cheeks.
Igra stood up, followed by his father and the Americans.
I sunk even lower into my chair. Covering my face with my hand ashamedly, goosebumps washed my arms and back as the air swirled around it.
“As much as I enjoyed this, the abruptness of it meant Yelene and my plans had to be pushed back,” Igra stated.
“You just want to spend your time watching crappy B-rated horror movies.” Humor laced the Patriarch’s tone, but no one objected to being rushed out. “It’s getting late, and your mother is expecting me. Carlyle and his entourage will be staying a few more days until our meetings with Ophelia are over.”
“I’d be more than happy to get together as long as I have a bit more warning than fifteen minutes. I’ll show you out.”
Closing my eyes, I focused on breathing as Igra led our impromptu guests out of the kitchen. The moment Carlyle disappeared around the corner, the atmosphere lifted off me like a million stones. Wrapping my arms around myself, I released a shuddering gust of a sigh. Flopping my head back to frown at the ceiling, my vision blurred from the tremendous relief that sloshed through my system. “God… that was awful.” I tensed when Igra’s deep chuckle wrapped around me and I sat up. “D-do you think they’ll be back?”
Igra placed both hands on my shoulders to knead gingerly. “No, we’ll meet somewhere else next time, and there’ll be plenty of time to prepare. I’m sure that I’d even go now that I have a choice.”
Shivering under the immense weight that lifted from my shoulders, I dropped my head to the side. The thick hairs on the back of Igra’s palm tickled my cheek.
“You did a fantastic job, malen’kaya ptitsa.”
“I was afraid to open my mouth.” Shame crept up my neck at my own confession, and Igra cupped my jaw to rub my cheeks with his thumbs. My stomach roiled as I stared down at my plate, and I bit my lower lip hard. “I don’t feel good.”
“You were wonderful, my malen’kaya ptitsa. Trust me, it couldn’t have gone better.” Circling my jaw and cheeks and under my ears, Igra leaned down to drop a lingering kiss on my crown. “I’m very proud of you, Yelene.”
My eyelids fluttered closed as exhaustion pushed the air from my lungs, and I could only hum softly. Dinner was not something I ever wanted to repeat. Maybe, one at a time, I could deal with, but—being blindsided gave me an awful pit in my stomach. “What did you talk about? I can’t speak English.” I was sure that Igra already knew this.
He grunted lowly in acknowledgment. Leaving me cold, he started clearing the table as the silence lengthened. “Mostly how business operates differently here than in America. Vanessa is staying here for a bit as a tourist, once the meetings are over. I’m sure she’ll be helping Ophelia out as well. She’s going to call me next week.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I simply kept my mouth shut as I stood up. The vertigo spun my brain on its stem, and I braced my palm on the table.
Igra paused. “Do you want to lay down, Yelene?”
“I’m okay.” Blinking hard, I shook my head lightly and scrunched up my nose. Slowly straightening, I breathed deeply to stable myself as Igra cast me a worried glance. My stomach heaved, and I clamped my free hand over my lips. Bile sloshed up my gullet as I raced for the bathroom down the hall. Saliva seeped from my hollowed cheeks, and I ducked into the toilet to wretch horribly.
I arched sharply, the fine hairs on my back bristling as goosebumps blanketed my skin. There was nothing in my stomach to throw up, but that didn’t stop it from curling. Big, warm hands pulled back my hair and rubbed my back, and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. My episode didn’t last long before I slumped against the toilet.
Igra brushed back stray strands of my hair tenderly. “You should lay down, malen’kaya ptitsa. The past hour and a half wasn’t kind to you.”
If I had the energy to protest, it seeped into the tiles under my knees when Igra’s palm swept up and down my back. Gingerly grabbing my elbow, he helped me up onto weak legs, and I leaned heavily against his arm.
“Carlyle has that effect on people. I’m sure it’s unbearable if you’re not used to it.”
“Y-yeah…” Shuffling into the bedroom, I closed my eyes as Igra tugged my dress up over my head. The woolen fabric sent shivers up and down my spine, and I sat down at his nudge to lay down. Not daring to open my eyes, I covered my face with my arms and sniffled harshly. My throat burned, but my stomach didn’t clench so tightly.
“I’m gonna go finish cleaning up. Do you want the TV on?”
Nodding mutely at the offer as Igra took off my stockings, I scooted up to the top of the bed with a grunt. My arms and legs grew heavy as I rolled up on my side to release a shuddering breath.
26
Igra
You should be careful. This isn’t necessarily a social visit. Stroking my chin thoughtfully, I stared absently over Yelene’s shoulder at the TV. My father’s words circled ruts into my brain and I struggled not to frown sharply. It was nearly one in the morning, but the subtle, lighthearted threats were still freshly ringing in my ears.
Anatoly has already made an attempt on Ophelia. Thankfully, I had sent security the morning after you left.
“Don’t worry about it…whatever it is,” murmuring softly, Yelene twisted in my lap to snake her arms around my neck. “It’s about the meeting the other night?”
“It’s been on my mind, yes. You’re lucky you don’t know English.” My mind churned even as Yelene shuffled off and around me to rub her palms up my back. Arching into her palms, I reached to rub my jaw thoughtfully. “My father promised to handle Anatoly, but…I don’t want to leave the issue to someone else. We’ll see what he decides to do, though. I doubt even Anatoly is dumb enough to attack me or my father.”
“If he would, he’d wait until Carlyle and Vanessa and all them are gone?”
Grunting lowly, I leaned into Yelene’s hands as they crept over my shoulders and back down. Her soft palms were wonderful,
and I twisted to lay down and drawn her to me side.
“You think he’ll try?” she asked.
“I think we’ll just have to wait and see, malen’kaya ptitsa. Even if Anatoly directs his anger at Ophelia, that’s not my problem. As long as he stays away from me, I’ll let him live.” The morning after we left….those were my father’s words. How did Anatoly find out about Aleksander so quickly? What if he was angry with Ophelia for something else, and it had nothing to do with me? Anatoly wouldn’t lose or gain anything from our eldest brother’s death, and he didn’t care either way.
“Are you tired?” Drawing my attention, Yelene stroked the side of my face as questions clouded her eyes. “It’s very late.”
“I’m content to lay here with you.” She blushed faintly, delicately, and I covered her hand with mine as she smiled small. My chest warmed and I drew her fingers to my lips. “You’re so beautiful like this, malen’kaya ptitsa.”
“I hope one day, you’ll be happy with me.”
My brows rose at this and Yelene’s blush intensified as I pulled her arm over my neck. Slinging my arm around her waist, I rolled onto my side to hold her closer. She was warm, soft, and I propped my cheek on my arm to stare at her delicate face. “I am happy with you, my malen’kaya ptitsa…when there’s no one to meddle in it.” Her blush reached her ears, and I smiled as my heart ached against my ribs. Reaching to caress Yelene’s cheek, I inhaled deeply. “I would like to take you somewhere very important to me, Yelene. Not today, but soon.”
“I want to go,” Yelene answered immediately, “I would love to.”
I exhaled through my nose as excitement flared in her dark eyes. “Good. When the snow melts, we’ll go.” My phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand, and I sat up to snatch it. Surprise knocked the air from my lungs, and I threw my legs over the side of the bed. “Anatoly? What are you calling me for?”