Derek nodded slowly. He looked Viktor over, his eyes showing how nervous he was. “I’m Derek,” he said quietly. “I miss my parents.”
The pain in Derek’s voice tore at Viktor, but he tried to keep a calmness to his face.
Derek added, “I miss them and I don’t want to be here.”
“I understand,” Viktor said slowly, wondering what could be said to give this boy any comfort at all. The enthusiasm Viktor had mustered to greet Addison was gone, replaced by sadness and empathy. “I lost my father yesterday,” he finally said. “I know how you feel.” He reached over and squeezed Derek’s shoulder. The boy had sat up a bit and turned to Viktor upon mention of Boris, his posture getting a little less heavy.
“Really? You’re an orphan, too?” Derek looked Viktor over once again, apparently less anxious now that they shared something in common.
“Well… yes. I guess you could say that. It’s very hard, isn’t it?” Viktor took a steadying inhale. Raw emotion had begun to bubble underneath the surface of his words, despite his best efforts to put on a brave face; he’d come here to forget about his own problems, and instead been confronted with their pain anew. “It’s like the bottom falls out of your world. The people you knew your whole life, who were there for you through everything… they’re gone. They’re gone, they were taken from you, and you just have to accept that even though it is cruel and unfair. They’re gone and they’re never coming back.” Viktor stared at the brightly colored squares of carpet on the floor and felt his chest aching.
When Derek began to sniffle, Viktor realized he’d been too harsh, too adult. The sniffling picked up into wailing as the boy cried.
Shit, Viktor thought. Shit.
“It’s okay, Derek. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you…” He fumbled for something more to say, but had nothing to offer.
“They’re never coming back!” Derek screeched out. This seemed to catch the attention of the workers in the corner in a way that the boy’s crying hadn’t, and one of them looked about to rise. The two adults looked to Derek, then to Viktor, and Viktor waved his hand as though to say ‘I’ve got this,’ but the workers didn’t seem impressed.
“Shhhh. Shhhh. You’re going to be okay.” Viktor remembered the suckers in his pocket and pulled one out. He offered it to Derek, at a loss for what else to do.
The boy’s crying quieted. Tears spilled down his cheeks in silence as he stared at the candy.
“It’s blue,” Derek said in a hoarse voice. He sounded amazed, as though Viktor had shown him a magic trick. “Blue… blue’s my favorite.” The kid slowly took the sucker and looked it over, then looked to Viktor. “How did you know?”
“Blue is everyone’s favorite.” Viktor forced a smile and hoped it looked genuine. Derek unwrapped the candy and popped the sucker into his mouth. The boy wiped his nose on his sleeve and turned toward the table. He picked up a rubber band and pulled at it.
Was that all it took? Viktor was waiting for Derek to start crying again, but the kid seemed to be okay now, closer to how he’d been before Viktor had approached. He resisted the urge to snort—one sucker, and the pain of the boy’s parents was forgotten, at least temporarily. Before he had a chance to envy Derek, an idea struck Viktor.
Alexandra had stood strong against him thus far while he had used anger and fear to try and control her. But what about candy? There must be other ways to get what he wanted. Candy worked for kids. He needed the adult equivalent.
Viktor watched Derek’s lips turn blue from the artificial sugar. He considered his options, and came up with a plan while he helped Derek and Addison with some bracelets.
9
Alexandra
Alexandra couldn’t help being relieved to see Viktor leave, giving her free reign of the house. She had no intentions of doing anything to cross or hurt him, and wasn’t even sure she’d leave her room immediately, but she was glad to have room to breathe without his dark, foreboding presence.
She called Elena as soon as she was able to retrieve her purse, finding that it had been left in a box of things brought over from the chapel and left downstairs. After several long rings, her friend finally picked up. Their conversation felt strained from the beginning, though, as if Elena was distracted, and Alexandra left the details vague when she asked for an audience with Uncle Tolya.
“You’re being all cagey. Something’s going on, and I have a feeling that, where you’re living now, you can’t talk about it,” Elena said. Alexandra imagined her friend turning a piece of hair around between her fingers. “Why don’t we meet in person?”
Alexandra didn’t want to spend another minute in Viktor’s house today, and Elena insisted her apartment wasn’t an option, so Alexandra took the initiative to ask Roman where he might be comfortable bringing her. He suggested a small cafe that was on one of Viktor’s regular routes.
Alexandra retouched her makeup, opting for a ‘natural’ look this time, slipped on some shoes, and grabbed her purse. It was much easier to convince Roman to drive her to a coffee shop than it had been to persuade him to get Viktor when she’d been locked in her room, and within twenty minutes she was standing in front of the Rose Street Café.
Under Roman’s supervision, of course. She couldn’t shake him, but as long he kept a reasonable distance so she could talk privately with Elena, so be it.
Alexandra and Elena hugged in front of the café and then entered and placed their drink orders. Roman grabbed a seat near the door to give them space, but Alexandra couldn’t help noticing he was watching them closely—presumably to ensure Alexandra didn’t slip away.
While Alexandra waited for her vanilla latte and Elena waited for her soy mocha, they made small talk. Elena was both herself—she chatted incessantly about her new purchases from an upscale clothing store—and very different. Alexandra knew it wasn’t like her not to inquire about her new life as Viktor’s bride, but with the way Elena kept glancing in Roman’s direction, Alexandra got the feeling that she was uncomfortable, and playing it all off. Maybe this would be the best they could do at friendship until he backed off a bit.
Alexandra listened, as always, and tried to act like all was normal, but her mind kept darting back to her family. She had to prove her father’s innocence.
The barista called their names soon enough, and the two friends grabbed their coffees and sat in a booth next to a window. Alexandra glanced outside, trying to figure out how to once again bring up what she’d called her friend to talk about. A light breeze ruffled the bushes, and pedestrians passed. It wasn’t exactly private, but there was no one seated next to them, and the ambient music of the café was loud enough to cover any drifting conversation.
“Elena, I need to ask you for something.” Alexandra shifted her weight on the slippery vinyl of the booth’s seat. Her mouth pursed.
“Yeah? What?” Elena asked, following Alexandra’s gaze outside and then meeting her friend’s look.
“I’m wondering if you could help me arrange a meeting with Uncle Tolya.”
“Yeah, you said that on the phone, but… Psshft, why? He’s old and boring.”
“No, really. I need to talk to him.”
“Okay, then I gotta ask.” Elena cocked her head at Alexandra and gestured as she spoke. “Whyyy?” The word was drawn out theatrically—trademark Elena.
“Viktor thinks my father is the one who killed Boris.” Alexandra fought to keep her voice low. “I don’t know anyone else who could vouch for my father except Uncle Tolya. He’s connected, right? Respectable? He has to be able to convince Viktor that my father is innocent.” Alexandra’s eyes fell to the table. “That I’m innocent. Viktor thinks I’m involved in his father’s death, too, and... And, oh God, Elena—God, this is awful. I think, he might kill my father, and me, too, if I don’t figure something out.” Alexandra hung her head in her hands and took a minute to regain herself.
Elena frowned, crossing her arms in front of her and leaning forward, but her eyes kept f
licking in Roman’s direction. When he didn’t flinch, she seemed to force away the cloud of trouble that had covered her face, and she replaced it with what Alexandra could only describe as artificial sunshine. Elena, her perky, bubbly friend, was worried—and trying to play it off.
Alexandra’s dread grew.
“That’s awful,” Elena said, twirling a lock of hair between her fingers, but putting on an air like nothing serious was going on.
Was it an act to misdirect Roman? Alexandra couldn’t tell.
“I couldn’t even come here alone. I have a chaperone to make sure I don’t try anything!” Alexandra pointed again to Roman, who was still maddeningly seated a few tables away and pretending not to watch them. “But I mean it. Do you think you can help me out, Elena? I don’t know who else to talk to about this.”
“A chaperone. Is that who he is?” Elena leaned out from the booth and cast a come-hither glance at Roman, then turned back to Alexandra.
“Elena, Viktor might kill my father, even kill me, if we don’t figure out a way to convince him otherwise,” Alexandra repeated, fighting to keep her voice even as frustration tugged at her.
“Oh, Alexa, you worry too much.” Elena waved Alexandra off, then turned around in her seat to give Roman another look. Still, there was trouble behind Elena’s expression that wouldn’t disappear, no matter how much sunshine and ditziness she put into her act. Alexandra had never seen her like this before, and it worried her. She’d thought the family she was marrying into was respectable, but if Elena was acting this way…
Something had to be wrong.
“Hey there, chaperone,” Elena called out to Roman, tilting her head at him. Roman looked to Elena, grew visibly uncomfortable, and turned away.
When Elena opened her mouth to speak again, Alexandra cut her off. “Elena!” Now she couldn’t help but raise her voice. “This is life or death. Do you even care?”
“Of course, I care! But like I said, you seriously worry too much. Calm down, Alexandra. I know that you’re worried, but… not here, okay? You’re here to ask me a question, right?”
“Boris was murdered, and his family thinks my family did it. If we don’t change his mind, he might kill me and my family! That’s not just me worrying, Elena, it’s the truth.” Alexandra gave Elena a hard look, refusing to back down, and she took some satisfaction in the fact that Elena seemed to deflate.
“Alright, but you have to stay calm.” Elena crossed her arms again and glanced at Roman from over Alexandra’s shoulder. Then, in a lower voice, she said, “You’d think your dad would be glad Boris is dead, with the money troubles he had.”
Alexandra almost choked on her coffee. That was the same motive Viktor had accused her father of having, but Alexandra had had no idea her father was indebted to Boris. How had Elena known?
“You think my father would be glad his friend is dead?” Alexandra snapped back. How could Elena be so… uncaring? They were supposed to be best friends. There was something larger going on here, but Alexandra couldn’t begin to put the pieces together.
Elena didn’t seem to have an answer, and also seemed oblivious to how upset Alexandra was. She made a ‘pfft’ sound with her mouth, even though her eyes were pinched at the corners with worry, and turned to ogle Roman again. Alexandra couldn’t watch, and turned to the window for a distraction. Her eyes followed the pedestrians while she tried to think of her next steps.
But while she was in the middle of wondering why Elena was being so flippant, a familiar form slipped out of a door across the street and passed by outside amongst the pedestrians.
Viktor.
Alexandra felt fear clutching at her chest. Was he going to come in here and yell at her again, this time in public?
Her fear was short-lived when she saw the look on his face, though. Calm, almost serene. The man outside was the man she had met at breakfast, not the terrible, cold-eyed brute who had yelled at her. Again, Alexandra wondered, which was the real Viktor?
She looked to the building he had exited, and was surprised to see the sign overhead: Pathways Children’s Home.
What was Viktor doing at an orphanage?
“I have to go,” Elena said, interrupting Alexandra’s thoughts. Alexandra looked away from the window to see Elena sipping her drink and staring at her phone screen. “Your chaperone’s no fun, by the way.”
“That’s it? You can’t at least give me Uncle Tolya’s number so I can call him myself?” Alexandra asked in disbelief.
Elena shrugged. “He doesn’t like it when people give out his number, but I’ll tell you what. I’ll talk to him, and have him give you a call.” She didn’t look up from her phone screen. “He’s really busy, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks.” Alexandra said, her voice hitting a sour, flat note. Some help Elena was.
Elena rose from the booth, adjusted her bag around her shoulder, and leaned down to give Alexandra a half-hug. “I’ll be in touch, Alexa. Just chill out, okay? Like I said, you worry too much.” On the way out the door, Elena winked again at Roman. He didn’t respond, but shifted his weight in his chair. Alexandra shook her head as she watched Elena disappear into the crowd on the sidewalks.
“What am I going to do?” Alexandra asked herself.
10
Viktor
Today was a new day. Viktor’s trip to the children’s home, combined with an evening of solace on the opposite side of the house from Alexandra to follow it, and a full night’s sleep, had allowed him to regain himself. This morning, over breakfast, he would be able to coax information from his wife.
Alexandra insisted she didn’t know about her father’s debts and was uninvolved, but despite how genuine her reactions had seemed, Viktor had his doubts. Given how close Alexandra was with her family, it was unlikely she wasn’t privy to some sort of information… which he could, in turn, use to trap her into confession.
Viktor entered the dining room to find Alexandra already seated and looking over the selection of food. He had asked the cook to set out only her favorite dishes from the day before: tvorog with an assortment of fresh fruit, marmalade-topped butterbrots, orange juice, and, just for kicks, a bowl of Rice Krispies.
Derek and the blue sucker yesterday had taught him that the secret to getting Alexandra to open up might be sweetness instead of fear. He hoped that remembering her favorites, then having the food ready for her this morning, would show her that he wasn’t so heartless. Simple as it was, he thought this breakfast might be a step in the right direction.
Then, he could get her talking, and hopefully she would slip and tell him something useful about her father.
“Good morning.” Viktor gave her a tight-lipped smile and sat across from her at the table. Alexandra was mid-bite into a butterbrot and took a second to answer.
“Thank you for breakfast.” She pointed to the bowl of cereal. “The Krispies are a nice touch.” She sounded hesitant, and Viktor resolved to work extra hard to make up for yesterday. Her trust would not be easy to regain.
“That really was funny yesterday,” Viktor said. He poured a cup of black coffee from a heavy metal pitcher and took a sip.
“Yeah. About yesterday.” Alexandra looked him over even as Viktor raised his hand out in a gesture to stop her before she said anything more.
“Yesterday was yesterday. Today is today. Things are rough for both of us. Let’s have a fresh start.”
Alexandra cast him a suspicious glance, but took another bite of breakfast and chewed with a thoughtful expression.
“I really enjoyed our conversation yesterday morning,” Viktor added when she remained silent.
His words hung in the air, the lack of response bordering on awkward.
“Me, too,” Alexandra finally said.
“I remember you saying you have lived with your parents your entire life. Do you miss them, now that you’re on your own?” Viktor asked, lifting his coffee to his lips. He didn’t want to seem too eager to talk about her family,
but he also didn’t want to waste time with frivolity.
“Yes, and no.” Alexandra perked up a bit, as if his question had convinced her he was sincere in making a fresh start with her. “I’m excited to start a life of my own, but I also miss familiarity. Just the little things you don’t really think about… like the way my mother hummed to music while she cleaned, or greeting my father after a day of work and hearing about his day. Even the way the back door used to creak when we let the cat in and out,” she said. “I stayed home for university. I was driven to the campus every day, so I’ve never known another life. I never thought I’d miss it so much.”
“I can understand that.” Viktor leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “You mention your mother cleaning—she stayed at home while your father worked?”
“Yes. They have… a sort of traditional marriage, where she takes care of the home and he works, but at the end of it all I think it’s my mother who has the final say.” Alexandra smirked. “They were an arranged marriage, too. My mother had never met my father before, but they married—this was back in Russia, of course—and they have an amazing relationship. I really hope to have a marriage half as strong as my parents,” she added, sincerity clear in her eyes.
“So your mom rules the roost, so to speak?” Viktor asked.
“Yeah, so to speak. Any decision that needs to be made, my father goes to my mother first for her advice.” There was something about the way Alexandra spoke that made Viktor think perhaps she was envious of this aspect of her parents’ marriage—perhaps she craved that power, and that was the motive he’d been missing.
“What does your father do? You mentioned he was a businessman.”
“He’s in sales. Electronics, mostly, I think.” Her face lit up suddenly, and her smile widened. “Oh, this is so funny, but I remember being little and going out on a field trip. We all took a boat ride around the waterfront, in the bay area, and I asked every single person on that boat if they knew my father because I didn’t understand the difference between sales and sails, as in sailboats.” Her cheeks grew pink and she laughed at herself. “Like, can you imagine that? I was such a dumb little kid.”
Married to the Russian Kingpin: Sokolov Brothers Book One Page 5