by D STEP
Sophie and Valeri waited for him take off before signaling their driver to move on. “He’s crazy to be on the road alone, with a price on his head,” Sophie said.
Valeri nodded. “I told him to stay out of sight, and somehow he followed us, the stupid prick.” Yuri’s lone taillight disappeared into the distance. “He may be crazy, but he’s not the one who got ambushed tonight.”
Chapter Five
“This is good for outdoors,” Irina said, holding out a pair of stretch denim leggings.
Sophie looked up from the pile of items Irina had bought on her latest shopping trip. She took the leggings from her and examined them. “Yes, these would be perfect.” She smiled at the girl and laid the leggings next to the sweater she’d picked out.
Irina nodded, then spread her hands over her tummy. “They stretch,” she said knowingly.
Sophie flashed a warning smile. “That’s our secret though, right?”
“Of course. Where is it you go today?” Irina asked.
“I guess you’d call it a joy-ride,” Sophie said. “In the country somewhere…not sure exactly, but we’re leaving shortly.”
“Is good to be outside, yes?”
“Yes, very good.” It would be the first time she’d been allowed outdoors with the exception of Valeri’s guided walks and her attendance at the disastrous dinner party the previous week. The brothers had struck a temporary truce since that night, and today they’d planned a drive in the country together.
Valeri entered the bedroom suite, and Irina excused herself. Sophie looked up from her collection of clothes spread all over the bed. “I’m almost ready. The weather looks good today.”
Valeri nodded, already dressed in jeans, turtleneck and a leather jacket. “We have a problem.”
“Oh? What?”
“I spoke to Father. He’s much better. His lungs have cleared and he’s gaining weight. The doctors say he can travel soon.”
“That doesn’t sound like a problem,” Sophie said, pulling on the cashmere sweater. “That’s good news.”
Valeri scoffed. “Now for the bad news. He wants to see Yuri and I—and our prospective brides. He wants to make certain we are both married off while he is well enough to enjoy it.”
Sophie stood still, locking eyes with Valeri. “Brides? Both of you?” Her heart sank, pondering how this was going to be possible. As far as Anatoly knew, Sophie was engaged to Yuri, but Valeri was unattached. Or was he? A thread of jealousy fluttered through her brain; she hadn’t stopped to think if Valeri had another woman, or women, elsewhere. “Who is your bride, Valeri?” she asked, her lips beginning to tremble.
He held her priosoner in his electric blue stare, and she did not want to escape. His expression seemed one of resignation. “You know I want you,” he said, his voice low and pained. “But appearances have to be maintained. I won’t disappoint Father when he is not long for this world.”
“What will you do?” She asked the question, yet did not want to hear the answer. She realized she could not bear the thought of Valeri with another woman, and chided herself at her naïveté. Rich and powerful men always had mistresses; any number they wanted. It would be foolish to think otherwise, or to assume exclusivity. She suddenly felt insignificant in the light of that reality.
“Let’s not talk about that today,” Valeri said, his face brightening. “Finish dressing. Yuri’s waiting for us.”
*
Irina donned her coat and left through the back exit of the building as usual, even though her shift had not yet finished. She felt agitated. Her trips to the high-end department stores buying things for Miss Sophie that she could never buy for herself had become tiresome. She’d had a little taste of luxury, with her Italian-speaking friend giving her pocket money over the past few weeks, and she wanted more. She wanted those fancy leggings and sweaters and scarves. She worked hard. She deserved them.
She entered the cobbled back lane, looking for him. He seemed surprised to see her, as she was earlier than usual. She had no idea how long he waited there each day, but today she had extra information—perhaps enough to ask for extra pay.
She told him about the joy-ride, and to expect three persons to drive out of the parking ramp within the hour. Her friend happily handed over a 100 ruble note.
*
Sophie wore tall riding-style boots over her leggings and a jacket and scarf atop her sweater. She and Valeri met Yuri in the parking garage wearing his full leather regalia. “I presume we’re not taking the limo,” Valeri said.
Yuri shook his head. “Nyet. I have surprise.” He led them further down the row of vehicles, stopping in front of his Harley. Next to the Harley sat a vehicle Sophie had only seen in movies. Yuri pulled two helmets out of the unit and handed them to Valeri. “You still remember how to ride, brother?”
Valeri chuckled and took the helmet. “It’s been awhile,” he said. “But I think I can handle it.”
“What is that?” Sophie asked, pointing to the machine and its attachment that were both painted khaki-green. The two-wheeled cycle looked like something out of World War II, and the wagon attached to its side no bigger than an oversized metal bucket.
“It’s a 1955 Ural,” Yuri said proudly. “They still make them, but the design hasn’t changed much since this model.”
“Russian-made,” Valeri added, tossing her helmet toward her in a light swoop. “Classic.”
“You expect me to ride in this?” Sophie asked, catching the helmet with both hands.
Yuri donned his helmet and sunglasses. “You won’t even have to straddle. Or duck your head in terror, like last time.” He cracked a wry smile. “Let’s go.”
Reluctantly, Sophie climbed into the cramped sidecar while Valeri mounted the cycle. The padded leather seat felt surprisingly comfortable. The rumble of both engines in the hollow concrete tunnel nearly deafened her. They cruised to the exit ramp, and sped out into the cool autumn morning.
The crisp breeze felt fantastic against her face; fresh air filled her lungs and sunlight dappled the tree-lined street ahead of them. A risky move riding out in the open, Sophie knew. But they wouldn’t be gone long, and the exhilaration she felt at this moment seemed worth every second. Valeri looked oddly comfortable behind the handlebars, prompting Sophie to think he wasn’t a stranger to motorcycles despite his implied hatred for them.
Yuri rode in the lead, taking sidestreets and shortcuts out of the city centre to reach the outskirts as quickly as possible and avoid unwanted attention. They cruised below an underpass and onto a dirt road that led through grassed fields. A line of forest loomed ahead, and soon they were hidden by trees on either side, following more of a bike trail than a road.
Sophie hung on and kept herself as stable as possible on the cushioned seat as they blazed ahead, fearing for her condition. The path leveled out as they neared a clearing where a serene, glistening lake revealed itself. The vehicles slowed to a stop near the shoreline.
“It’s so beautiful,” Sophie breathed, sitting tall to get a better view. “What is the lake called?”
Yuri dismounted. “No name. I found it while riding one day.”
Valeri did the same, removing their helmets and lifting Sophie out of the sidecar to the ground. His arms locked around her as her feet touched the leaf-covered dirt. He gazed down into her eyes, and bent his head for a kiss. If there was such a thing as autumn fever, Sophie felt sure they had all come down with it. The smell of fallen leaves and moist earth coupled with wavelets lapping at the rocky lakeshore formed a sensual cocktail she wanted to get drunk on, and Valeri’s warm lips on hers were the perfect garnish.
She felt Yuri’s presence nearby like a magnetic force and broke the kiss, pushing gently away from Valeri. A sidelong glance showed Yuri hiding a smile behind his beard that he’d let grow scruffy again. If only it was enough to hide him from the Odessa, too, Sophie thought. She and Valeri held hands and walked toward the water’s edge. Yuri dug into his saddlebag and produced two
bottles of vodka.
The three of them walked along a dirt path near the shore. The sounds of twigs and pine needles snapping beneath their feet, rustling leaves and splashing water played a melody more powerful than any symphony. The feeling of both freedom and privacy enveloped them, a long-forgotten sensation of bliss settling over them.
A tangling of branches between two trees formed a woody arch near a bend in the path. They stepped through and found a grassy, quiet grotto encircled by tall bushes and birch trees. Stones of various sizes poked out of the ground, offering rustic seating that seemed suitable for elves or other fairy creatures. Yuri strode to a boulder-sized rock and sat down, twisting one of the bottles open.
“Anyone thirsty, besides me?”
Sophie spread her scarf on the ground and kneeled down. Valeri took the second bottle of vodka and joined her on the grass, twisting the cap off and offering her the first swallow. Sophie shook her head subtly, holding up one hand to decline. Valeri regarded her curiously, then took a swig for himself. Yuri was at least three gulps in.
“You never told me exactly what happened in Kiev,” Valeri said. “How did you ‘accidentally’ kill the Odessa Pakhan?”
Yuri looked off in the distance. “Doesn’t matter,” he grunted, taking another shot of vodka. “He’s dead all the same. Let’s just say he likes his kiddie-pussy a little too much.”
“He’s a child molester?” Sophie asked, disgusted.
Yuri nodded. “I caught him with…well, she looked no more than ten years old to me. I don’t know. It wasn’t my business; I was there looking for young girls for the trade, but… Khristos. Ten?” He shook his head.
“So it wasn’t an accident,” Valeri said.
“It was justice.” Yuri stated quietly.
“Fuck,” Valeri swore, raising his bottle to his lips.
“You shot him?” Sophie asked.
Yuri turned to look at her and gave a nod. “I think maybe Father was right; I no longer have the stomach for this line of work.”
“Good,” she said. “Give me a drink.” She reached for Valeri’s bottle. He handed it to her and she took a small sip. It burned but she’d become accustomed to the stuff—even liking it, to a degree. She looked between the two men in front of her who were so different yet so alike. Her personal double-shot of vodka. “What are we going to do about Anatoly,” she ventured, his request to meet his son’s spouses still on her mind.
“We?” Yuri asked. “It’s Valeri’s problem, not mine. Father already met you as my future wife.”
“She’s not going to marry you, govnyuk.”
Yuri’s eyes narrowed at his brother. “I don’t hear you asking her, even though you’re fucking the daylights out of her. What about Francesca? She’d marry you quicker than she drops her panties—except she doesn’t wear panties.”
Sophie’s stomach lurched. So Valeri did have a woman. “Who is Francesca?”
“She’s nobody, Sophie,” Valeri soothed.
Sophie glowered at him, unconvinced. “I’ll bet.”
Yuri laughed. “Now you’ve done it, Casanova.” He raised his bottle in a toast then took a gulp.
“Shut the fuck up,” Valeri shouted, then turned back to Sophie. “I told you, it’s only for appearances. Father wants to see a girl, we’ll show him a girl. I’ll never marry her.”
“You won’t marry Sophie, either,” Yuri retorted. “You’ll just grind her up in your little torture chamber and spit her out like all the others.”
Sophie had heard enough. “Stop it!” she yelled. “I can’t marry either of you,” she spat. The two men started at her sudden outburst. “You’re both stubborn, pigheaded…. pridurki! Assholes!” She took another swig of vodka then jumped to her feet. The sudden change made the blood rush from her head, stars forming before her eyes. She swayed and pitched backward, but Valeri caught both her and the bottle on the way down.
“A little too much, too quickly I think,” he said. Sophie pushed him away as he righted her on her feet. She put a hand to her mouth as her stomach retched.
“What’s wrong,” Yuri asked, rising from his boulder.
Sophie fought back the bile threatening to come up, and fixed them both with a defiant glare. “I’m pregnant, you idioty. What did you think would happen, all these months unprotected?” The brothers glanced at each other. “I can’t marry either one of you, because I don’t know which of you is the father. I will never know, because I’ve been with both of you, and your DNA is identical.”
Chapter Six
Evgeni watched the trio having an argument of some kind through his scope, but could not hear what they were saying. With the housekeeping girl’s information, he’d seen the three of them leave the Kovalenko headquarters as she described. His colleagues with the Odessa Krysha, undercover operatives, were extremely grateful for this insight, and immediately tracked the group by surveillance drone into the woods. A small strike force followed and now stood ready, surrounding the clearing unseen.
Evgeni gave the signal, but the Krysha were already on the move. He’d told them to leave the girl alone; Evgeni had other plans for her. He wondered if she would recognize him.
*
“The child is mine,” Valeri said. “We’ve been together for two months.”
“It only takes once, brother. And I’m a very good shot.”
“Shut your fucking mouth, or I’ll shut it for you.”
“Face it, Valeri. You came second out of the womb, and you’ve been second ever since.”
“Shhh!” Sophie hissed, grabbing Valeri’s arm before he could take a swing at Yuri. “Listen…” she glanced wildly at the circle of trees around them. The hairs on her neck stood on end; something or someone was watching them.
Yuri’s head snapped up, sensing the same thing. “Get down,” he growled, reaching for his sidearm hidden under his jacket. They crouched low, gathering near the large boulder where Yuri had sat. “We’ve got to get back to the bikes.”
Valeri drew his own firearm from the police-style holster strapped to his torso. “How many?” he whispered.
“Four,” Yuri said, his head tilted downward so his voice would not carry. “I’ve got the one on my right. You see the one opposite, behind the dying birch?”
“Got him,” Valeri said. “Why haven’t they fired?”
“Don’t know. They’re waiting for something.”
Sophie huddled between the two men. “Who are they?” she whispered, her voice shaking. She wished she had never left the safety of Valeri’s bedroom.
“Hit men,” Yuri answered. “Looking for me, most likely.”
Sophie closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “Well, they’re not looking for me,” she said, and taking a deep breath she stood and stepped into the open.
“Sophie!” the brothers called simultaneously.
“Hold your fire!” a voice shouted from the perimeter. Sophie turned toward it, and a man stepped out of his hiding place and into the clearing. “Hello, bambina,” he said.
Sophie’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Massimo?”
“Sí,” he answered, coming nearer. “Told you I’d take care of you, bambina. But the name’s Evgeni, actually. What are you doing with these thugs?” he jerked his chin in the brothers’ direction. “They’re wanted men.”
“I know,” she said. “But you have to let us go.”
Evgeni shook his head. “I don’t think so. Your boyfriends have murdered a Pakhan. My client demands blood for blood.”
“Client?” Sophie repeated. “You work for the Odessa?” She thought he’d been just some obnoxious tourist. “Please,” she pleaded. “It was an accident. You don’t know the whole story.”
Evgeni wrinkled his lip in disinterest. “Don’t care. But I do know your story,” he said. “I acquired your lost luggage. You are Sophie Brant, a diplomatic attaché from Vienna who was unfortunately mistaken for one of three vagrant prostitutes. You were never meant to be part of their operation, but I’
ve been watching you. Quite a circus act with the brothers Kovalenko since then, eh? I daresay you enjoyed it. But it doesn’t have to stay that way. You can go home, Sophie. Back to Vienna and your real life. I’ll help you. Don’t you want that?”
Sophie stood stunned. She’d said goodbye to that life a long time ago, believing she’d never return to it. Yet now this chance dangled before her. The tiny life inside her deserved something better than a world of crime and corruption and a constant push and pull between two fathers. But how could she trust this man, a random stranger who accosted her in an airport lineup, pretending to be someone he was not? Before she could answer, shots rang out.
Evgeni grabbed her and ducked down, shielding her with his body. Sophie twisted to see what was happening. More shots fired, and she saw Valeri charging toward them while Yuri sprinted into the woods. Evgeni scrambled to his feet, but was met with the barrel of Valeri’s handgun at his temple.
“Run, Sophie. Back the way we came.” Valeri said.
Sophie launched herself forward, under the archway of branches and onto the grassy path, terrified to look back. She heard another gunshot, but kept running. Footsteps closed the distance behind her, and she heard the rumble of a motorcycle engine firing to life. She gasped in relief as Valeri caught her arm and whisked her forward at his longer-legged pace.
“Did you shoot that man?” she asked, breathless.
“In the leg. He’s not going anywhere.” They reached the clearing where Yuri was astride his Harley and the Ural already running. Sophie tumbled into the sidecar and ducked down as Valeri leaped onto the saddle and opened the throttle.
*
“I never saw it in daylight before,” Sophie confessed as they rode in the air-conditioned comfort of the limousine. Goragavan appeared on the horizon, its stately, columned façade evoking unpleasant memories. It was the last place she ever thought she’d return to. “It really is beautiful. How long has your family lived here?”
Valeri sat on her left, gazing out the window at the vista beyond. “Since before our grandfather’s time. It was an Imperialist summer palace.”