Deviant Fixation

by Valencia Carmelita

  "We must leave right away to see him!" She declares with concerned determination, rushing past me towards the door. "Come on, Sanam! No time to waste!"

  It took Rachael several minutes convincing her uncle Dimitri Molotov in granting us permission to embark on this hospital visit. I hadn't stepped into the billiards room, but consistently glimpsed the minutes ticking by on my phone.

  Once she had exited the room along with Vladimir, I felt a strange sort of awkwardness crawl over me. Perhaps it was the way he kept his intense gaze trained on me. Even Rachael noticed.

  I couldn't adapt to it, this peculiar feeling that thrummed my heart beat in a quicker pace than normal in his presence. Perhaps it was the way he's been treating me lately, full on ardent attention. As if nothing else mattered but me.

  On the way to the hospital, Rachael repeatedly dabbed at the moisture collecting within her eyes. My own eyes ached from weeping over mister Mirza. I sat besides her in the backseat of Vladimir's Lamborghini, since both of us needed each others consolation under such devastating news.

  She revealed to me about how profound of an influence mister Mirza had on her throughout the years she had known him. That he'd aided her on an emotional level of coping with her parents tragic death. I had no skepticism in regards to any of it. I myself had witnessed of how kind and amiable mister Mirza truly is.

  I can sense Vladimir listening intently to our conversation. Those blue delphian eyes would lock continuously with mine in the rear view mirror, before he'd focus on the road ahead again.

  Once we've reached the hospital, the nurses and doctors admit us to the ward where mister Mirza is registered. Rachael ushers me to enter his room first for my own exchange of private moments with him.

  Upon entering the room, my eyes commence anew into waterworks at the sight of him. Clad in a hospital gown, eyes sunken inwards, complete loss of hair, face aged ten times in advance. Yet through such a forlorn state, a smile crinkles his mouth as he looks in my direction.

  "Sanam." His voice croaks and elapses into a cough. "I'm glad you decided to visit me. Come closer."

  Eyes drenched through my sobs, I stumble towards him and collapse at his feet concealed under the gurney sheets.

  "You're like a daughter I've always wished to have, why are you at my feet? Your station is honorable in my eyes." Mister Mirza utters through an attempt of consolation. "It hurts me to see you weep..the doctors, I'm sure have advised you not to weep in my presence."

  "I'm s-sorry.." I glance towards him in grief, striving hard to bite back on my sobs. "Oh God, mister Mirza I..I just can't stand to see you in such a condition..I'm so sorry..you can't die..good people like you are needed in the world!"

  Mister Mirza shakes his head at me, smiling. "Silly girl, the world is also filled with better people than I. I'm nothing good, I've done not enough good for others around me that I had potential to do and that is what I lament over. I've requested time and time again from God, to grant me another chance at life so that I could do more good for the world. But alas, God knows best for me. If indeed my time approaches nearer to death, then it must be for the best of what God decrees."

  "No..you can't die..please.." I cry with refusal as I clutch at his gurney sheets. "Why do you give up, mister Mirza? Don't give up just yet..please..don't..don't accept defeat."

  Mister Mirza's eyes widen at me with a glint of amusement. "Silly girl, now that is where you're wrong...how is one who has submitted fully to whatever the will of the Creator is, a defeated individual?"

  Without speaking, I continue weeping, as he proceeds to say in sudden crestfallen tone. "Over the past few nights, I've been receiving nightmares of Khalil enduring torture at the hands of the Burq Al Nar gang...I don't know what to do, I desire to see Khalil granted his freedom..I don't know what these dreams mean other than Khalil must be freed.."

  I feel mister Mirza's hand gently pat at my hijab concealed head. He questions weakly. "Sanam? There is no pressure on you my child, but if you could..if you feel you possess the means necessary..to aide in freeing Khalil from those monsters..then please..do so.."

  I had forlornly departed mister Mirza's bedside after quite a while, when a knock at the door sounded an hour later. It was a nurse informing me that all visitors will have to exit after another hour since the hospital doesn't allow visitors after certain hours. Mister Mirza had been entreating me to visit baba and attempt to mend my relationship with him. I said I'd think about it.

  It is while Rachael is meeting in private with mister Mirza, that I take a seat in the waiting lounge, too immersed in my grieving thoughts.

  A cup of water is held before me by masculine ivory fingers. Through my sniffles and misery, my gaze travels up over the fingers, toned arms and broad chest clad in business blazer. My eyes align with tender sapphire ones veiled by golden lashes.

  "Please drink it." Vladimir requests, voice underlined with apparent concern.

  He presses a wad of napkins into one of my hands, squeezing it gently in the process. I yank away my hand as if his touch burns.

  He lets out an exhale of apparent despondency. "Atleast drink the water, please?"

  Reluctantly, I take the cup from his hand while remaining careful not to brush his fingers in the process. I desired no physical contact with him.

  He takes a seat besides me, and my posture stiffens. I had no yearnings for a conversational exchange with him. I wanted to be left alone to contemplate over my lamenting thoughts.

  After a couple of minutes, my body relaxes as Vladimir has opted to remain silent. Yet my mind is plagued by a different kind of thought, Khalil's freedom. It is mister Mirza's one and only last dying request.

  Warily, my head tilts in the direction of Vladimir after many more minutes have elapsed silently between us. Leaning back against his seat, his strong arms are folded against his chest, eyes closed as if he's asleep. A sleeping Adonis is what he resembles, face more celestially angelic than human in such a state.

  Perhaps I'm glimpsing the good within a criminal. Perhaps the good within him is at conflict with the bad and prevails when he's asleep. But is he asleep right now ? I turn my face away from him, and stare down at the water in the cup I hold.

  Without thinking, I utter in a subdued tone barely above a whisper. "He's got less than a month to live...and he's got one request...a request that would surely provide him some restful sleep during the last of his nights..."

  I heave a hefty exhale of sadness as I continue. "There is a man named Khalil..wronged.. enslaved..by my ex and his gang...Khalil needs to be freed.."

  The car ride home was full of an unwieldy somber atmosphere, cloaking the entirety of the way. All three of us hadn't spoken one word.

  Rachael silently looks out through the window at the places whizzing past, tears trickling down across her cheeks. I briefly wondered what words were exchanged between her and mister Mirza. Yet it was none of my business, Rachael respected my privacy and so should I be obligated to do likewise.

  I glance towards Vladimir, he hasn't looked at me once through the rear view mirror since the Lamborghini departed the hospital premises. Those deep cerulean eyes levelled on the road ahead.

  I wondered if he had actually heard the words I had uttered in the hospital lounge. Whether he has heard them or not, his noble visage gave no indication of any emotion.

  He appears inexplicable, delphian and firm of resolve, as he normally does. A part of me envies that about him, how masterfully collected he remains in the face of most situations.

  I notice the sun hanging low in the cloudless sky, and worry washes over me in regards to guarding my prayers. I haven't prayed consistently over the past few days and I couldn't afford to miss more of them. To Rachael, I relay my request to have Vladimir stop briefly at a mosque.

  "We're no longer in the city..." He answers softly, eyes refusing to meet mine in the rear view mirror. "Along the way, we can stop at the Orthodox Church where you've prayed once before...if that's alrig
ht with you?"

  My cheeks tinge pink at the memory of that time, and I croak. "It's alright with me."

  While Rachael and Vladimir pray and light candles before the alter within the Church, I prepare myself to pray in the direction of the qiblah. Rachael had shrugged off her jacket for me to substitute as a prayer rug.

  I had continuously supplicated for mister Mirza's health and for Khalil's freedom. I supplicated for every innocents freedom from the clutches of tyrants and oppressors.

  I supplicated for my own freedom, from the captor holding me prisoner. Most importantly, I supplicated against my heart for developing alien feelings towards my captor.

  Once I completed my prayer, I glance over in the pews direction. My breath caught in my throat. He reclines there, impassioned gaze drinking me in as if he hadn't witnessed something so enthralling before. Yet here I was, captivated anew. Ensnared by the depths of ardency contained in those piercing eyes of his.

  Once we arrived to the manor, Rachael requested for me to join her in her private study again. I took the same seat by her fireplace as she began pacing back and forth infront of me. Her mouth set in a grim line, brows furrowed deeply.

  Then abruptly she halts midstep, glancing in my direction and heaves a frustrated sigh. "Vladimir's forced you to marry him didn't he ?!"

  Momentarily, I'm stunned at the sudden direct question. Next, I can only but commence weeping into the palms of my hands. This gesture alone was answer enough to confirm her suspicions true. She embraces me while cursing her brother under her breath. Some minutes later, she escorts me to my room for my rest alone.

  That quietude of a restful period lasts temporarily, as a knock ensues against my bedroom door. It had been over half an hour since Rachael had left me in my room.

  I wondered where Bilal was, hoping he hadn't been exposed to information about Mafia involvement of the men in this family. But I was much too weary to go search for him in the sprawling estate, the unpredictable events of the day had really caught up to me.

  As soon as I answer the door, I'm completely shocked to see none other than a somber Dimitri Molotov standing before me, all alone.

  "Young lady, may I come in?" He asks in a firm steady voice. I can only but gulp in apprehension before hesitantly nodding in acceptance.

  He accesses my room, and settles himself on an armchair in the corner. I stand still in awkwardness besides the door, held askew by my fingers.

  "Please sit." He gestures with his hand towards my bed. "I must discuss with you an important matter in regards to my dear nephew."

  Reluctantly, I shift away from the door and within seconds take a seat at the edge of my bed. He slips out a cig-lighter and a small velvet case from his coats interior pocket, before asking."Do you mind if I smoke a cigar?"

  "No, I-I don't mind." I answer cautiously.

  After taking a leisurely puff from his cigar, he directs his attention on me as he begins. "Earlier, you and my nephew were targeted by an RPG...perhaps Vladimir hasn't revealed to you the developing news..there is an all out war being waged against my entire family, against the Molotov Bratva by our former Eastern European alliances now.."

  I continue staring at him silently, my mind processing this unpleasant news. After another puff of his cigar he says. "Do you know what is the underlying cause of this war between our former alliances?"

  I shake my head in decline at him so he answers instead. "The underlying cause is...you.."

  My eyes distend in complete alarm. He provides me a severe look. "And here you complain to my niece against my nephew..against the marriage between you and him..girl, I've seen how you behave around him..you have the audacity to carry on as if you're truly a special snowflake, giving him nothing but your detestable attitude...he could have selected any other willing woman in the world besides you...but yet he risked it all for you..I don't know what he sees in a woman who displays nothing but contempt for him..it is unlike him..placing everything on a precarious line just for you.."

  I gape at him in disbelief, my mind boggled by his stinging words. "Sir, I don't understand what you're saying..what do you mean?"

  He chuckles dryly while looking elsewhere from me. "By saving you from that resort, he destroyed our alliances..years and years of forged alliances and treaties torn to shreds..yet I'm not one bit enraged by him now..he's my dearest little sisters only son...I'm not upset one bit..."

  Then Dimitri aims me an austere glance as he concludes. "All I request of you, is to give him a chance..he's placed his life under major risk as never before..give him a chance...he did this all for you."

  ◆◆◆

  It had been a week since Vladimir and the rest of his male relatives had left the manor, undertaking classified missions. Seven days since mister Dimitri Molotov's words remained in the recesses of my thoughts.

  When Vladimir was preparing to leave, there had been a strange tugging at my heart. I had managed to avoid him before he left with his cousins. Mister Molotovs words consistently arriving to my mind, and the peculiar feelings within my heart stirred.

  I couldn't bear it, which is why I had refused to allow Vladimir to see me right before he left. I was grateful that Rachael had kept him at bay. But yet another part of me, a treacherous part of me felt pained. It was disturbing me greatly. His life was under major risk? Was it not always for involvement in such a profession? Would I see him again ?

  So disturbed by these newfound painful emotions I was becoming, that on the seventh night, slumber had completely left me.

  "That's because you don't wear comfy sleepwear, you silly goose!!!" Bev gave me a playful punch against my shoulder.

  I stood at her and Katie's doorway, after I had finished explaining to them that I was unable to sleep. It was well past midnight. They had dragged me towards their room after spotting me lost in thought alone in the foyer lounge when everyone else had gone to bed. Bev was staying over until Grigori returns along with Vladimir, Serge and Yigor.

  I stare down at my cotton modest PJ's, contemplating her prognosis. "You think so?"

  "Oh dear, yes..you must wear something soft..that makes you feel pretty unlike what you have on now!" Katie relays, scrutinizing my clothes. "I might have just what you need!!!"

  Some twenty minutes later, after constant goading from the both of them, I'm clad in a skimpy negligee. It's created out of the finest mulberry silk. Palest shade of peach, complimenting my naturally tanned skintone.

  I would feel comfortable in it, had it not been created with a plunging neckline and spaghetti straps that kept sliding down my small shoulders. The hem of it reached above my knees.

  "Errr..I don't feel comfy.." I voice my uncertainty as I gaze down at the way the exposed tops of my breasts jiggle when I move. "I don't want to be seen by a man in this ensemble."

  "Silly! It's only us girls here and the kids are asleep in their rooms." Bev pats my hand reassuringly. "How about we have a slumber party?!!"

  "Uhh.." I trail off, unable to fully accept.

  "Yes indeed!!!" Katie nods emphatically as she drags me over to her dresser mirror and makes me sit on a stool before it. "Let's have fun!! I'll do your hair and make up!!"

  A sudden knock ensues against the bedroom door, causing me to vault to my feet in sheer panic. Bev sits me back down firmly, remarking."Relax, it's just Mrs.Agnelli, Anya and Lorna!"

  "Whaat?!" I raise an incredulous brow. "What's going on?"

  Katie promptly opens the door. There stands Mrs.Agnelli, in her fluffy bathrobe, curl rollers in her grey hair, balancing in her hands a tray of red velvet cupcakes. Besides her both Anya and Lorna in frilly nightgowns, green cream facial beauty masks plastered over their faces while they held bags of chips in their arms.