by A. Zavarelli
The torment shocks me back to reality. This was the reminder I needed that it’s time to be strong. Maybe what I told Mischa wasn’t a lie after all. Maybe soon, I will be strong on my own. Away from this world and away from the mafia.
“Don’t look,” Mischa says. “It will only make it worse.”
I pull my gaze away from Nikolai, grateful that Mischa is here to keep me from making a fool of myself.
“Dance with me?” I ask.
He chews on his lip while he contemplates an answer. It’s a dangerous question and probably not fair to him. But I want to do something to take my mind off Nikolai.
“He will probably kill me for it.” He offers me his hand. “But it will be worth it to say that I danced with the most beautiful girl in the room.”
“You are just trying to make me feel better.”
“I wouldn’t lie about that.” He grins. “I’ve seen you naked, remember?”
“I think you were right when you said it would be best if we never spoke of that night again.”
He laughs. And we dance. For a few minutes, I’m just a girl in a red dress. Not a prisoner. Not a ballerina. Not a mafia princess. Mischa makes me feel at ease, but he doesn’t make my heart flutter. I wish he did. Things would be easier if it was him. But it isn’t him, and when Nikolai’s shadow falls over us, he makes that abundantly clear.
“Mischa,” he barks. “There is business at Kosmos that requires your attention.”
Mischa nods, relinquishing me. “Sure.”
He doesn’t ask what sort of business requires his immediate attention because there is none. Nikolai just wants him gone. And once Mischa takes his leave, I’m the next item on his agenda.
“Go sit with the women,” he orders. “It’s time for the men to do business.”
I leave the caveman with a piercing glare and nothing else. He doesn’t deserve my words or the breath it would require to utter them.
The women are gathered in an adjacent room littered with tables and chairs. Divided into small groups, they drink and gossip among themselves. I wade through the crowd and choose an empty area in the back where I can be alone with my thoughts.
On the opposite side of the floor, the men tend to their business, which really means drinking whiskey and smoking cigars. That, at least, is the same in every mafia culture.
“Tanaka.”
It appears that my sanctuary is not safe from everyone because Alexei has found me. Beside him, a ghostly woman clings to his arm. In person, his wife looks more haunted than I imagined. Tragic is the only word I can think of to describe her. She is beautiful and pale, but empty.
I give her a reserved smile, and Alexei smooths his palms over her shoulders. “You will be just fine, Solnyshko. You have your star, yes?”
She touches the tattoo on her hand where her husband has left his mark on her, and a small fire of jealousy kindles inside me. I don’t want to be owned. I don’t want to be property. But by the way his eyes soften when they fall on her, it’s obvious he loves her. He would do anything for her. And that is what his star signifies.
“I’ll be just a few short steps away if you need anything,” he says.
“Okay.”
Alexei releases her reluctantly, and she comes to sit beside me. There’s an awkward gap of silence in which I try to figure out the best approach for this situation. Alexei wanted me to befriend her. The girl has been through all nine circles of hell, and she needs an ally in this strange new world. She was not born into the mafia, and it’s evident as her eyes dart around the room.
“I don’t fit in here either.”
“What do you mean?” Her reply is spoken in a soft and childlike voice.
I decide to take an honest approach with her. Someone who has been through as much trauma as she has will undoubtedly find it difficult to trust anyone. But if I level the playing field, she might open up.
“I am simply collateral,” I explain. “My father owes a large debt, and I am in Nikolai’s charge until he comes through with it.”
“Oh. When do you think that will be?”
“Never,” I answer. “He cannot pay.”
Her eyes widen, and she looks stricken at the thought. “So what will happen to you?”
I glance around the room, subconsciously seeking out my captor, and it appears Ana isn’t the only contender for his affections. There is yet another woman who I don’t know making her way into his orbit. I force my attention back to Talia and clutch my hands in my lap. “Whatever Nikolai decides.”
She is quiet for a pause, and I think that maybe I took the wrong approach after all.
“I was collateral too,” she blurts.
I offer her a smile. “I know.”
“You do?”
I don’t want to taint our budding friendship, so I won’t mention the things Alexei told me. It would be a fallacy to say his intentions are the only reason we find ourselves together this evening when I genuinely do want to be her friend. She would be the only real friend I ever had.
“I overheard Nikolai mention you,” I say.
“Oh.”
We fall into a natural silence, observing the chaos around us. But it’s difficult to ignore the blatant staring of our feminine cohorts. Talia fidgets beside me, tension seeping into her features.
“Don’t worry. You will get used to it. They don’t like you because they will never be you.”
Her brows pinch together. “I don’t understand.”
“Your husband.” I nod to the other room. “He is the ah … councilor to Viktor. He outranks their husbands in every way, which means that you do also.”
“Oh.”
“They are very traditional,” I explain. “You will be starting a family soon, yes?”
“That is what Alexei says.” She wrings her hands in her lap.
“He is handsome. You are lucky. Nikolai speaks very highly of him.”
“He does?”
“He does,” I assure her. “I do find it strange, though, how similar they look in some regards, don’t you?”
I’m not sure why I even mentioned it. It’s not my place, but I feel it might be important for her to know. The new friend in me wants to give her every possible advantage to survive in this world. And while the rivalry between Alexei and Nikolai still lives and breathes fire, Talia would do well to avoid poking the dragon.
She doesn’t get a chance to answer my thought. An indomitable shadow falls over us, and before I even look, I know it could only be one man.
“Nakya.”
Nikolai settles in front of me, contrite. The shadows beneath his eyes are more pronounced in this light, and I wonder if he’s been sleeping well. But then I remember I’m not supposed to care. He tells me that we’ll be leaving soon and then turns his attention to my new friend.
“Talia, I haven’t had a chance to properly introduce myself.”
She looks at me for approval, and I think she’s confused by the gesture. After her experience with men, in general, it is of little wonder, but I am surprised by Nikolai’s softness. Sensing her fear, he kneels on our level, attempting to put her at ease.
“I need to speak with you,” he says in a hushed voice.
Her eyes are still on my face, and I do the best I can to assure her that it will be okay. Nikolai may be many things, but I know he won’t hurt her, and I want Talia to know it too.
“Alexei will not listen to me,” he begins. “But I know he will listen to you. Sergei is not going to let this go. Neither is Katya for that matter. You should both be careful.”
I don’t know what he’s talking about, but Talia appears to. She doesn’t get a chance to respond. From across the room, Alexei has spotted us, and now he’s hell-bent on laying Nikolai out.
Nikolai rises, squaring off with his brother yet again. They proceed to argue in Russian, the same issue of contention between them. Somehow, it always comes back to Katya. My sympathies go out to Alexei. Such a betrayal by his brother would
certainly leave a permanent scar, and I can’t imagine for the life of me why Nikolai would hurt him that way.
Thinking better than to allow their tempers to ruin another evening, the argument fizzles out. But Nikolai is not to be the only recipient of Alexei’s hostilities. When he turns to pull his wife from her chair, his words are harsh and unfair.
“Go to the washroom and compose yourself. And when you come back, perhaps you can make it through the evening with better judgment.”
Talia shrinks in the face of his unprovoked outburst, and I feel the need to protect her.
“I will accompany her.”
“You will not,” Alexei answers. “She must learn how to conduct herself at these events.”
Talia leaves, and I scowl at her husband. I thought him to be a respectable man, but just like Nikolai, he allows his stubborn pride to rule his life. He is a fool, and I’d like to tell him so, but if I want to see Talia again, my thoughts are better kept to myself.
Talia is gone longer than I anticipated, and when she finally does return, her face is streaked with tears, and she is visibly shaken. But when she seeks out her husband, it only gets worse. He’s across the room with the same woman who was fawning over Nikolai earlier. Instinctively, I know it must be Katya.
Without warning, Talia collapses, and I rush to her side. Nikolai is not far behind, and before I can decide what to do, he hoists her into his arms and carries her down the hall. We find an empty chaise, and he makes her as comfortable as he can while I sit beside her, reaching for her hand.
It’s the only support I have to offer. When we try to talk to her, she has gone to another place in her mind. Our questions remain unanswered, and she stares off into nothingness.
“Get Alexei,” Nikolai instructs me.
I don’t want to leave her, but I do as I’m told.
Alexei’s wife is despondent and obviously traumatized, but there is little I can do for her. I remain quiet at her side, a steady presence until Nakya returns with Alexei. Rather than seeing the situation for what it is, he flies off the handle as soon as he comes down the hall.
I rise to meet him, but he isn’t in a state to hear what I have to say. He reacts with his fist first. I dodge the blow, but I’m not a man to back down. I’m prepared to set him in his place when Nakya inserts herself between us, palms raised and face stern.
In Russian, she calmly informs us that this is not the time or place, redirecting our focus to Talia. It takes a full minute to register that she’s speaking my mother tongue. My little liar is quite at ease with the language, but articulates as most novices do, slowly and succinctly. She chose an inopportune time to pull her trick out of the hat, so for now, I leave it alone.
She was right to redirect our attention back to Talia, and I hope that Alexei will see it that way too. Like me, his temper often gets the best of him, and he finds it difficult to admit when he’s wrong. Not wanting to further upset Talia, we opt to continue our conversation in a mishmash of Russian and English.
“I should kill you for even daring to look at my wife,” Alexei says.
“Do what you must.” I sigh. “I was comforting her as you should have been, instead of playing this game you continue to play.”
Alexei looks at his wife, and still, his default reaction is to doubt her loyalty.
“If you wish to punish someone, Lyoshka, then it needs to be me. Not her. She has done nothing wrong, yet you treat her as if—”
“Do not tell me how to conduct myself. This is my marriage. My business.”
“I am not telling you as a Vor,” I say. “I am telling you as your brother. This is not the man I know.”
Silence settles over us. Alexei appears bewildered by my open admission of our shared DNA. He believes it to be Sergei’s greatest shame, but he should know it’s not mine.
“It’s time we put an end to this, bratan.”
He thrusts out his chest, and his mouth twists into a scornful smile. “Yes, I believe it is.”
There is no mistaking the words as a threat. He outranks me, and he has Viktor’s favor. It would take very little from Alexei’s mouth to turn Viktor’s opinion of me. If he ever chose to disclose my indiscretion with Katya, the pakhan would order my death without a second thought.
“I am sorry for the way that I went about things with Katya,” I say. “But I don’t regret doing it, Lyoshka. She had you fooled.”
“We are not discussing this,” he answers.
“You have to know that if you married her, she would have ruined your reputation within the Vory.”
“It’s your reputation that should be ruined,” Alexei sneers. “You may have Sergei’s approval, but you are not a man of honor. You are undeserving of the stars you bear.”
If the insult had come from any other man, I would have cut his throat. But this is my brother, and I am tired of this battle between us. I am tired of our wasted words.
“You have always been jealous of me, bratan.”
Alexei is prepared to deliver another equally vicious blow with his tongue when I raise my hand. “And I have always been jealous of you.”
He does not answer, and I doubt he believes me. The worst part of the cruel words Sergei gifted his first son is that Alexei believes them. If his father says he’s defective, it must be true. If his father says he’s worthless, how can he argue that? To compound the problem, Sergei’s affection for me has only added to his troubles.
“I am deeply sorry for any pain I have caused you, Lyoshka. Whatever you choose to do, I will respect your decision as a man and a Vor. If you must send me to my death so that you can have peace, then I implore you to do it. But I am done with this war between us.”
My appeal is genuine, and I hope that Alexei can recognize that. But he does not give me an answer, and we are left without a resolution entirely when Katya makes an appearance. As always, her timing is not ideal. But I refuse to give her one minute of my time or attention as I join Nakya at her side.
“Your wife looks ill,” Katya observes. “You must allow my maid to watch over her so you can come back and enjoy the party, Lyoshka.”
She is dangling the line, but Alexei does not bite.
He looks at Talia, and his eyes soften. “I am taking her home.”
“But you can’t,” Katya insists. “There is still so much more to come. I have worked so hard on the planning—”
“My wife is more important than your party,” he says. “She is the most important woman in my life.”
The car ride home with Nakya is about as pleasant as I expected it to be. She’s either tired or angry, but if I had to venture a guess, it isn’t difficult to decide where the dice fall.
It was not my finest moment, using her in the bathroom, only to abandon her for Ana moments later. There are probably many things I should say in this situation, but there is only one thing I can do.
I can’t afford to give her hope when none lives. I won’t do her the dishonor of lying about our doomed relationship. But it doesn’t change the fact that the thought of her with anyone else blinds me with jealous rage. She has every right to hate me. She has earned that right. But maybe just once, I would like to see honest affection in her eyes.
When we walk through the front door, she is prepared to go her own way. But I take her hand in mine, leading her up the stairs and down the hall.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
Her body is weary. I took her roughly today, and she is probably sore, but I suspect she’s more likely suffering from her indifference at this moment.
“You will stay in my room tonight,” I tell her.
“Why?”
I reach out to touch her face. The face of an enchantress with the eyes of an angel. I have never seen a beauty quite like hers before. Her eyes flutter closed as my fingers learn the line of her jaw, and when my thumb drags over her lips, her breath escapes her.
“If you were my wife, I would worship you every day.”
“But
I’m not your wife,” she says. “And I never will be.”
“For tonight, let us forget that it’s true.” I enclose her in my arms, and she does not argue.
Her resistance fades as the minutes pass and I kiss her purely for the sake of kissing her. When my fingers move to the knot of silk at the nape of her neck, she shivers. We’ve been through this already tonight, but this time is different.
I release the straps, and then her zipper. The silk falls around her feet, and I couldn’t recreate this image with all the paint in the world. She looks beautiful in red. But she is a goddess divine when she’s naked.
Her breasts are small and firm, and her ballet practice has given her no use for bras, which I like very much. A woman should be available to her man, and my Nakya is always available to me. Her legs are long and lean, strong enough to squeeze the life out of me when I’m fucking her. She is a canvas unlike any I’ve ever seen, and it pains that she doesn’t know her value. Great pieces of art can be unappreciated, but such is not the case with her. I’ve stolen many priceless things in my life, but nothing as priceless as her.
“Come.” I thread her fingers through mine and lead her to the bed.
Pulling back the covers, I gesture for her to get in, but she hesitates, seeking out the meaning of this. I would tell her, if I knew it myself.
“Stay with me tonight,” I implore.
She does not give in easily. Her eyes are sharp, and her armor is still intact.
“How many women have you brought here?” she asks.
Her jealousy stirs my dick to life, even though I’m too spent to take her again. “You’ll be the first.”
She purses her lips, and I know she doesn’t believe me.
“I do not bring women into this room, Nakya. The only women who have been in this room now total two. You and Nonna. But I’m afraid I must divulge that she does not warm my bed, she only makes it.”
For a few long breaths, she is completely still. When she finally crawls into my bed, I’m tempted to tie her up and keep her here forever. But for now, tonight will have to do.
I undress while she watches, her face propped on her hand, the sheet pulled up just above her nipples. I remove everything but my briefs and lie down beside her.