by Bethany-Kris
It was a good lesson to learn.
Just when he was about to step outside the bathroom, he heard Leonid’s voice echoing in the corridor. He wouldn’t have stayed inside if he hadn’t heard the tone of Leonid’s voice—a shaky aggression that made Roman pause just long enough to actually hear what was being said.
“The day of the wedding. That is when you need to make it happen.” Leonid’s obvious growing frustration spilled out with impatient words for the person on the other end of the line. “No, of course it’s not too soon, Katina. For fuck’s sake—I’m starting to think you don’t have it in you to see this through.”
Through the crack in the door, Roman watched Leonid pace up and down the corridor. He’d never been the type to eavesdrop. That shit only led a man into trouble, and the truth was, Roman wasn’t all that interested in other people’s affairs.
This time, though, something stopped him from pulling away from the conversation in the corridor. He wanted to listen. Something about Leonid’s voice compelled him to remain there, peering through the small crack in the opened door, even though he had no idea what was being discussed.
“August thirty-first. Do you get me? Maxim has to die by then or you’re not getting what you want, Katina,” Leonid added, the sharpness in his words feeling like the edge of a blade raking across Roman’s skin.
And shit ...
He wasn’t even the person Leonid was directing his orders to in the first damn place.
Roman had to look away, even though that did nothing to erase the words that had already infiltrated his mind and wouldn’t leave. Leonid, one of Maxim’s most trusted men, was planning his boss’s assassination. Or that was certainly how it sounded to him.
Despite the fact he was now privy to a plot against the boss, Roman wasn’t truly shocked at the news that there was one to begin with. It was a lesson his father had given him long ago. He’d made Roman promise not to trust anybody.
Literally nobody.
Roman was fourteen at the time when a plot was hatched to execute Demyan. Initiated by a man Demyan considered to be a friend, the plan was seen through until almost the end. Until it was almost too late.
By someone they trusted.
His father had come out of it alive and well, of course. At the same time, he had armed himself with a life lesson which he imparted to his son.
As the boss of a large organization, Demyan expected to face criticism and disrespect from the outside, typically, even from friends and people he trusted, at times. A boss always had to remind people why he sat where he did compared to everyone else. Finding out a friend was plotting against you, on the other hand, was a whole other matter.
Roman would never forget the look on his father’s face when he found out what was happening—rage, and fear.
Real, true fear.
Because they were never safe. No man in this life was, no matter how hard they tried to make it so. Reality was not as kind when it came back around to remind a man where he actually stood.
On shaky ground.
Roman tried to think back on that time as a young man, and how it all unfolded in the streets between the men when the truth started to leak out. It hadn’t gone over well, really. It never did.
All the while, Leonid continued mumbling into the phone outside, but his body language hadn’t changed. He still spoke to the woman he called Katina, threatening her without even taking a breath in between.
Roman’s mind raced to catch up even though it might have been a smarter choice to turn away and pretend he hadn’t heard a thing. Except ... he knew how significant this information was—even if he wasn’t personally involved in the ploy to execute the pakhan of a bratva.
It could potentially start a war. If Maxim was assassinated tomorrow, the rest of Chicago would be running around like a flock of headless chickens. Men with too much control, entirely out of control. All vying to come out on top of an already bad situation, and probably willing to make it worse if that meant a better seat for them in the end.
It was just how this shit worked.
Something else made him pause, too. Roman didn’t know where his own loyalties rested here. And he was pretty sure that simply overhearing what he assumed to be a plot against the boss wasn’t enough to actually bring to the man and say it was fact—especially not against a man as high in the organization as Leonid.
What proof could Roman show for that? He had nothing to go on but the edges of an overheard conversation. And wasn’t there a warning somewhere for messengers delivering bad news?
Yeah.
Nothing about this was good.
The information he now had was dangerous, and he was all too aware that he had a very short time in which to decide whether to tell it to someone, or not.
Outside, Leonid ended the call and through the crack, Roman waited as the man walked away. Until he was altogether out of sight.
He remained in the bathroom, not moving an inch until the echo of footsteps finally came to a stop ... or was too far away for him to still hear. Feeling too dazed to step out, Roman scrubbed a hand down his face, and tried to shake off the heavy questions banging around in his mind, and the weight now pressing down on his shoulders.
A sense of ... responsibility.
He hated that.
A part of him wished he hadn’t lingered.
Hindsight was always twenty-twenty.
THIRTEEN
Karine tried to admire the sight of her reflection staring back, but she couldn’t even do that considering the reason why she was even standing there looking like she did in the first place. She had been dressed and made-up for him ... and everyone else. Before the night had even begun, she already knew she would look perfect tonight because Masha had one responsibility when it came to the evening ahead. To make sure Karine looked her very best because that was what was expected from them both.
The only thing that was expected, really.
Everything else was up in the air.
It was for the best, but she didn’t even like the dress Masha stuck her in. The satin number, a shimmery, cream-colored cocktail dress, that stuck to every curve and crevice of her body with spaghetti-thin straps barely doing a decent job of holding the material up. When she looked at herself in the mirror, for a second, she thought she was nude.
Body on display.
A low dip in the front, and even deeper in the back.
There was no hiding the way the satin lay unforgiving against her frame, giving everything away with each turn of her body without truly showing it off. Not that it mattered. Karine wasn’t one to show off anything.
However, Masha selected the dress for the evening because it would draw attention to Karine. Show off her beautiful figure. Make her father and Dima proud to claim her as their property.
A way to say look at what is ours. As if they didn’t already say it enough.
Tonight was the night.
The night after which there would be no going back. Karine couldn’t stop herself from hyperventilating the longer she was forced to stare at her reflection.
She didn’t like her hair like it was, either. All neatly tied in a bun and pinned back from her face. She preferred it when it was left open and free flowing, then she could use it as a veil to hide behind, if needed. But they needed everything about her to be ... pure tonight. Perfection.
It was only when Masha came over to touch up her makeup one last time before they left that she noticed the way Karine was breathing. Her chest rose and fell heavily, skin tightening around her collarbones with every fast breath, and her face had even started to pink from the stress. The bigger problem?
The tears in her eyes.
She couldn’t hide those.
Masha searched for the pillbox she always kept within arm’s reach, quickly pulling it from its hiding spot before popping it open, and offering one to Karine without even showing which pill she chose. “Here, have this. Take one and you’ll feel better before you know it.�
�
Karine grappled for the pill, and popped it back. Down her throat it went, and she closed her eyes tight, waiting a few moments for it to take effect. It wasn’t that she would magically start seeing rainbows and unicorns everywhere—the edges simply became a little less sharp to her senses. Easier to deal with, maybe. If only she could forget the significance of what was going to happen tonight, then perhaps she might also stop panicking about the future.
Right—lying to yourself again, Karine.
What else could she do?
This was all she knew.
“You just have to get through the next few hours, and then it will all be over,” Masha said, her whispery assurance adding to the way she stroked Karine’s hair as she bent over. “Come on, now, isn’t that enough of that?”
Not even close.
Vomit threatened to spill from her stomach before she could stop it. Karine was sure she was going to be sick, but nothing happened. That warm glow started to spread all over, traveling thick in her veins, promising the pill was taking effect. It wouldn’t be long before she was going to be able to forget everything and go through the motions of the night’s event.
When Karine finally opened her eyes and looked at herself again, she couldn’t hide the way her hands trembled. Her hand was bare for the moment, but very soon, a big diamond ring would rest on one of those long, pale fingers.
A ring that would mark the beginning of her end, she knew.
“You look beautiful, Karine,” Masha told her, soft hands flitting over Karine’s face to brush away any stray tears or whatever else she might find that made her less than perfect. “So grown up, hmm? You’ll be the most beautiful women at the party.”
Masha’s pride turned on her, making Karine suck in a stuttering breath. She would have loved for her father to look at her the same way and say those things.
The truth was cold, though.
And hard to accept.
No matter how strikingly perfect her dress was, or how gorgeous Masha made her look—to her father, she would always just be currency. Something to barter. A commodity to use for his benefit.
She wasn’t meaningful. Karine meant nothing.
Not to him.
• • •
Masha gave Karine another pill on the way to the restaurant. Even though there weren’t that many lights inside the place, Karine still squinted at the seemingly bright space, barely keeping her eyes open when they stepped inside. Not that it stopped her from seeing the scene that waited.
So many people.
The whole restaurant had been booked out for tonight at her father’s request. Everyone was there who had been given an invitation—no one would turn it down when that would be disrespectful to the man who offered it in the first place.
Karine tried not to be unsettled by the number of guests she passed through to make her way to the table designated for her. One already filled with faces she didn’t want to join. Dima. Her father. Others who were important enough to sit with the boss and his future son-in-law.
They all sat on one side of the table where she was made to sit between them. Masha disappeared somewhere in the shadows where she would remain unless called for by one of the men sitting with her at the table. The true extent of her role in Karine’s life always made an appearance on nights like these.
She was there.
But she wasn’t.
Seen, but not heard.
Known, but not acknowledged.
Before she had stepped away, though, Masha was quick to slip another pill into Karine’s hand with a knowing glance—this will help things go faster. The pills usually did, so she was happy to take it.
Karine felt limbless without Masha there. Even if she did keep clutching at the small pill, shaped like a bar inside her palm, like it was a lifeline that might save her. What if she needed more? What if she started having those bad thoughts, or couldn’t stop the trembling in her hands?
She didn't know how to do this—any of it.
Being normal, that was.
Or rather, pretending like she was.
Instead, she kept her head down and tried to focus on the pattern printed on the table cloth. There were mostly only men around her, all speaking in loud voices that made her want to shrink away. She was so physically close to her father for once, whom she wished would look at her or address her directly instead of talking about her to the room, that she could smell his cologne. Dima sat on her other side, smoking heavily. The smoke from his cigarette had her stomach rolling all over again, but she stayed quiet in her seat. Just his presence was enough to make her gag.
And yet, here you sit.
Her mind was a horrible place. One she lived inside more than anyone knew. A prison she couldn’t escape, but not one of her own making.
The celebrations continued without much of her involvement or interest, and she passed through it all in a daze. It was the only way she could get through it. Without focusing on one particular voice or conversation, drawing in on herself and fading back against the rest of the people in the room ... being present but silent.
She just hoped it would all glide through her, as most everything else in her life did, and then she could wake up in bed tomorrow morning. Maybe it would all turn out to be a bad dream.
The filled up shot glasses with vodka, spilling everywhere on the table in their raucous haste. Some of it even dribbled onto her dress, but she didn’t care or even bother to clean up the spreading wet stain on her dress
A loud celebratory roar rang out around her, causing Karine to instinctively look up and seek out the need for all the noise. The others facing her across the table held up their glasses in a toast.
At her side, Maxim grinned. For a moment, Karine’s heart dared to beat faster—lighter—but in the next, she felt a tug drawing her attention away. Right back to the man at her other side.
Dima, that was.
He had pulled on her to slip the ring on her finger. Large and glittery under the light, it took up her sole focus, draining color from her cheeks and making her stomach drop to her feet in an instant.
Karine chewed on the inside of her cheek, desperate to stop herself from screaming. Cold and heavy on her finger, the ring added the same weight and iciness to her heart. This was happening. The engagement was actually happening, and she had yet to come to terms with it.
Not that it made a difference now.
There it was.
On her finger.
Real.
That ring was a shackle being fixed around her very person. She was officially a prisoner to a man she had never chosen for herself. One without any escape.
Now that the ring was on, the whispers of her engagement to Dima was official along with the announcement—it seemed like the rest of the people around her didn’t care anymore. The party was back in full swing, more drinks were poured until glasses overflowed and expensive vodka was drained from its bottles. They no longer cared to pay lip service to the girl in the pretty dress sitting with the men who had all of the guests’ attention.
She was forgotten.
Again.
Karine simply hoped that meant she would be left alone for the rest of the evening, too. After all, she had done her part. Showed up. Stayed calm—pleasant. She thought she might have even smiled for the watching guests, but did it really matter?
What more did they want?
Apparently, nothing.
Fine.
Slowly, Karine stood from her chair. Nobody noticed, even though she was sitting right between the two most important men at the table.
Karine couldn’t see Masha anywhere. All she knew was that she needed to be outside, away from this—far from these people who made her feel like a circus act one minute, and then meaningless in the next. She wanted to hide somewhere alone where nobody would find her.
Even if only for a minute. Maybe then, she could breathe.
Somehow, Karine doubted it.
• • •
Karine stumbled out into the alleyway in the dark of night with a shaky inhale of icy rain that chilled her down to the bone. She didn’t think she would make it this far without being stopped or caught by somebody from the bratva. Behind her, the emergency exit door of the restaurant swung shut and finally, she heard nothing but the soft drizzle of rain falling on the loose gravel by her feet.
And those deep breaths of hers.
One after another.
She’d been right.
Breathing was easier like this.
Despite it being the first week of August, the rain was cold in the warm air, making the droplets warm on her bare arms. It at least made the temperature bearable, even if she did barely consider it before coming out.
It was another thing that didn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things. Like how her dress was going to be soaked, her makeup smudged and ruined by the drizzle from above. What would her father say? What would Dima do if he saw her like that?
Who cared?
She should.
She should care.
God.
Karine wished she did.
The heaviness of that ring on her finger hadn’t left. She opened her mouth to suck in more big gulps of fresh air, hoping it would calm her. Except the effects of the pills were fading, and fast. She wasn’t in that glazed daze anymore—life didn’t have the same bright, shiny appeal that came with a medically-induced happiness—and that was what made her run out of there like she had caught on fire.
“Seems we keep running into each other like this, huh?”
The deep velvety voice came out of nowhere. Karine gasped into the darkness, instinct making her hand fly up to her throat even though her racing heart dared to slow down at the same time. She knew who it was before she even turned to look.
She couldn’t forget that voice.
Roman.
The handsome stranger with those striking soul-blue eyes. She had no idea he was supposed to be at the engagement announcement tonight. Either way, he had missed the announcement if he had been outside.
“Or maybe it’s not an accident at all,” he added as she turned to see the handsome grin curving at the edges of his gorgeous mouth. Something about the sight of his pleasure at seeing her made Karine’s stomach do the strangest things. Dangerous things. “Maybe one of us is spying on the other.”