by Alexa Davis
I walked back to the balcony, saw the remnants of dinner still sitting on the table, and frowned. I wracked my brain trying to figure out what had happened. The last thing I remembered was stroking her hair and kissing her before I drifted off to sleep. Whatever had happened after that was a mystery to me. I shrugged as I went into the kitchen and began making coffee. I wanted to get a run in before it got to late, so I went into the bedroom, changed into my running gear, and headed out toward the lake to clear my head.
As I ran, I tried to push Lexi out of my mind, but her face and the feel of her body pressed against mine was impossible to completely ignore. I shifted my thoughts to what lay ahead of me. I had to finish my order so that we'd have all the pieces we needed to refill the displays, then Lexi and I had to decide on a venue and decorations for the wedding. After last night's dinner, the planning felt a little odd. I'd felt something with her that I'd never felt before – some kind of deep need that was satisfied only by her.
I shook my head as I hit mile three and then turned around and headed back home. Lexi would be up by now and wondering where I'd disappeared to, and I didn't want her to worry. I grinned as I caught myself thinking these rather domestic thoughts and then ran a little faster to get back to where I felt like I belonged.
When I entered the kitchen, sweaty and still a bit out of breath, I was met with a chilly silence. "Good morning, Lexi!" I called. She turned and nodded, then turned back to the paper that lay in front of her and kept reading. Now, I was truly confused. "How are you this morning?" I asked.
"I'm well, thank you for asking," she replied in a crisp tone. She was wearing a robe, but her hair was pulled up into a tight bun at the base of her neck and no wisps were going to escape. "How was your run?"
"It was productive," I said as I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down across the table from her. When she didn't look up, I asked, "What's new in the news?"
"Gas prices have dropped," she said reading off the headlines. "CPS is going to implement stringent budget measures next year, and there's been another shooting in Wicker Park."
"What does it say about the shooting?" I asked, feeling the dread begging to rise.
"It says that a member of a known mafia gang thought to be run by Vladimir Malinchenko was gunned down outside Malinchenko's bar Ursus this morning," she summarized. "They called the victim one of the vory v zakone. I wonder what that means. I'm going to have to look that up."
"Thieves-in-law," I said without thinking. "It means they're part of the same gang."
"Oh, that's interesting. So, it's kind of like brotherhood or something," she observed.
"No, that's bratán," I said as I looked at the screen of my phone, hoping to find a message from Kristov. There was nothing there, and I quickly brought up his number and dialed it.
"How do you know so much about all of this?" she asked.
"It's an interest of mine since I deal with the Russian community," I said, carefully covering my tracks as I waited for Kristov to answer. I grew concerned when the ringing went to voicemail. There had never been a time when Kristov hadn't picked up his phone for me. There had been times he'd even answered while he was having sex with his girlfriend of the moment. I'd scolded him for being indiscreet, and he'd been unfazed as he told me that they found it sexy. I dialed a second time and it went straight to voicemail. Something was definitely not right.
"Are you okay, Max?" Lexi asked.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, fine," I said as I thought about what I needed to do next. I couldn't call Papa because I didn't want to alert him to what was going on with Kristov if he didn't already know. I quickly made the decision to get dressed, drive over to Kristov’s apartment, and find out where he was. "Look, I need to run an errand this morning. Can you get the store up and running without me?"
"Sure, no problem," she said in a flat tone. "Just don't forget that I have the call-back audition this afternoon."
"Right, right," I replied as I downed the rest of my coffee and headed to the shower. "I'll be back this afternoon in time for you to get to the audition."
"I hope so," she muttered under her breath. I couldn't figure out why she was upset with me, but I didn't have the time to figure it all out. Lexi would have to wait while I dealt with the more immediate problem of my brother.
I just hoped that he was, in fact, still a problem.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Lexi
I opened the store at nine on the dot and was happy to see Mrs. Zakhrov walk through the door ten minutes later. She was looking for a new statement piece that she'd heard about, but had never seen.
"My dear, the Star of Russia is the piece of pieces this season!" she cried as she browsed the cases. "I must have it. Have you heard anything about it?"
"No, I haven't yet, but I'll ask Mr. Malin," I replied, pulling out a large aquamarine pendant on a thick gold chain and handing it to her to try on while I pulled out the matching earrings. "If anyone knows where it is and how to find it for you, it would be him."
"Oh, my dear, this is lovely" she said admiring herself from all angles in the mirror. I handed her the drop earrings and watched as she threaded them through the holes in her ears and let them hang. The set looked lovely on her with her chestnut hair and violet eyes. "Oh yes, I like this very much. I will take them both."
"Wonderful, they deserve to go home with someone who will make them look as lovely as you do," I smiled. I took the pieces and began wrapping them up.
"You and Mr. Malin are such lovely people," she smiled. "How on earth did you meet?"
"We shared some common interests," I smiled serenely as I wrapped her packages. "Max always says it was love at first sight, but I tend to think it was lust, followed by deeper feelings."
"It's always that way for men, dear," she laughed. "They see what they want and then they find a way to tell themselves a story that allows them to go after it and get it."
"Do you really think that's the case, Mrs. Zakhrov?" I asked, genuinely curious to hear what a woman with her experience and years of marriage behind her had to say.
"Oh yes, I absolutely do," she exclaimed. "I think that women are much pickier than men, but that when men find what it is they want, they lock on and decide that's it. My husband pursued me for two years before I even agreed to go out with him!"
"Why?" I gasped. "I mean, why did you make him wait two years?"
"I wasn't sure I liked him." She shrugged. "I was in college and I needed time to finish my degree, and I knew that if I said yes, I'd most likely end up married with children, but no degree. So, I held him off until I got what I needed and by that time, I'd seen what a wonderful man he was, so I said yes. We were married two months after our first date."
"That's such a romantic story!" I said, admiring her for her strength of her convictions.
"No, not particularly," she said. "I love my husband, but he's never been one of those flowers and romance men. But by the time I married him, I already knew that and had accepted that I was marrying a hard worker who would always make sure I had a roof over my head and food on my table. I could live without the flowers and romance if I wasn't hungry."
"That sounds so mercenary."
"You young people are so foolish these days," she laughed. "You think that love is like the movies. You think that men are going to come, sweep you up off of your feet, and carry you away to live in a castle. That's not how it all works, golubshka. Real life is sticking it out through the difficult times and finding a way to love each other, even when there's no romance."
"But what about before the marriage?" I asked. She obviously knew what she was talking about and I intended to get an answer to the Max question once and for all. "How do you know if he really loves you?"
"He'll be very clear about it," she smiled. "Watch him and he'll show you everything you need to know. Actions, golubshka, actions speak louder than words."
I nodded as I finished wrapping up her packages and carefully tucked them into
one of our signature black bags. If action was a good indication of how a man felt, then Max's actions were clear as a bell. He didn't love me. Maybe he didn't even like me. He was just using me.
"Spaseebo, Mrs. Zakhrov." I smiled as I handed her the bag.
"If you ask me, golubshka, that man is head over heels in love with you," she smiled mischievously. "But no one ever asks me; I'm just an old woman who talks too much and loves to shop!"
"Oh, you're much more than that, Mrs. Zakhrov, much more than that!" I laughed as she walked out the door.
I spent the rest of the morning cleaning and shining the cases and jewelry in them. It was a mindless task, so I let my brain run as I polished each piece and then replaced it in the case.
Around noon, I called down to Indira's and ordered lunch for both Max and me. He hadn't called to say when he was returning, but I bet on the fact that he'd probably not had lunch and would be hungry by the time he got in. I also knew that if he cut it too close, he wouldn't be able to go out and get something because I was scheduled to be at my audition by four. I ate my lunch standing by the back office, watching the front door, and silently hoping that Max made it back in time for me to make the audition on time.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Max
I drove by the bar to see if Kristov was out front before I headed over to his place. He often spent part of the day simply being a presence on the street, and Papa encouraged it so that rival gang members would think twice about coming into the bar and causing trouble. It was also Kristov's way of thumbing his nose at the rival gangs who thought they might be strong enough to usurp his place in the community. There was no activity outside Ursus, so I told my driver to head to my brother’s house.
Kristov had been reserved with the money he'd received from my mother. He'd bought a two-story, red brick house on Evergreen so that he could be near Papa and the bar, but not too close that everyone would know his business. Papa did anyway, but my brother said that was because the bratán reported back to Papa on a regular basis in order to curry favor. Unlike me, Kristov didn't care. He liked being accounted for and he said that the fact that Papa always knew where he was or what he was doing made him feel safer.
I called him again from the car as we pulled up outside his house. His red Mustang was parked on the street and there were several of the young bratán milling about outside the gate. I got out of the car and approached them warily.
"Hey, where's Kristov?" I asked.
"Who wants to know?" a young boy with a shaved head asked as he eyed me suspiciously. His buddy hit him and whispered something I couldn't hear. The boy looked at me with wide eyes and said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Malinchenko. I didn't recognize you."
"It's okay, I wasn't expecting to come down here this morning so I didn't dress the part," I said with a grim smile. "Where's Kristov?"
"We don't know, sir," the boy said. "We haven't seen him all morning. Someone said he went to meet with Dementyev this morning."
"Dementyev? Aleksander Dementyev?" I shouted at the boys. "What the fuck does he think he's doing? That son of a bitch!"
The boys shrunk back from my rage as I yanked open the gate and stormed up the walk. I pounded on the front door yelling, "Kristov, you'd better open up this damn door right this minute or I am going to break it down and haul your sorry ass out on to the street!"
When I got no response, I stalked around to the back door and tried to peer into the kitchen. There was no movement inside the house, and my heart dropped to my stomach as I thought about what this might mean. I walked back to the front and addressed the boys.
"You two need to run over to Ursus and get my father, do you understand me?" I said in a grave voice. "You need to bring him back here as quickly as possible. Take my car and go. Just get him back here now!"
The boys hopped into the back of the car and my driver stepped on the gas. It wasn't so much that I needed them to get Papa – I could have picked up the phone and called him more quickly than sending the two young ones to get him. I didn't want them to witness what I was afraid I was about to find, but I did want my father to come and see it.
I walked around to the back of the house again, held the edge of the doorframe with my hands, and kicked the back door as hard as I could. It took three tries, but the door came loose from the hinges and I was able to push it aside and walk in. Inside, the place was a mess. Pizza boxes and takeout containers littered the kitchen, dining room, and living room; some had been there long enough to solidify in the box. I walked through the lower level, shaking my head at the filth and clutter.
"Kristov!" I shouted up the stairs. "Get down here now! Papa's on his way, and you're gonna be fucked if you're not down here to greet him!"
I heard a noise from the upper level, but when my brother failed to appear, I knew I was going to have to take more drastic measures. I took the stairs two at a time and burst through the door to his bedroom. I was completely unprepared to witness how far Kristov had been drawn into the web of the vory v zakone.
On his bed in the center of the room, lay my brother and two women. All three had been shot once in the head from the front, leaving perfect dark circles in the middle of each of their foreheads. My brother's eyes were still open. I walked over and pushed his eyelids down, so that Papa wouldn't see him like that.
I felt the cold rage welling up in my gut as I looked around the room and realized that this had been a straight hit. The boxes of Kristov's drug supplies were untouched – not a single one had been disturbed. Someone had wanted him dead and they didn't care about collecting the rewards that went with the hit. They were out for blood.
I felt the blood in my veins icing over as I looked at the scene and tried to reconstruct the last few minutes of my brother's life. Whoever had done this would pay. I would make sure of it.
"Who did this?" Papa asked quietly. I'd been so wrapped up in plotting my revenge that I hadn't heard him enter the house. I turned and the pain on his face made my blood begin to boil. "Who did this to my son?"
"Papa, I don't know," I said. "But I have a guess."
"Who did this?" he repeated more forcefully as he walked over to the side of the bed and looked down at Kristov. He raised his head and bellowed, "WHO DID THIS TO MY SON?"
"I'm going to find out, Papa," I said. "I'm going to find out, and then, I'm going to make him pay."
Papa stood next to the bed, staring down at my brother for a long time. He didn't move or say a single word. He simply stood and stared at Kristov's lifeless body. I could feel my heart twisting my chest as I watched him out of the corner of my eye, but I knew better than to say anything until he was ready. As angry as he was, it wouldn't be surprising if he turned and took his rage out on me, and I didn't want to have to fight my own father, not today.
"Maksimka, I want you to find the son of a bitch who killed my son, your brother, and I want you to bring him to his fucking knees," he said in a dangerous voice. "I want him on his knees so I can watch him suffer as I drain the fucking life from his veins."
"Yes, Papa," I said. I stood not moving a muscle until he turned and walked out the door. I knew that the weight of the family business and avenging my brother's death were now entirely on my shoulders, and I felt myself sagging as I added them to the weight I already carried.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Lexi
Moments before I was preparing to lock up the store and head to my audition, Max walked through the door looking like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. I watched as he walked into the office, checked the day's sales, and then came out to the sales floor and nodded.
"Break a leg, fiancée," he said without a smile. I tipped my head and looked at him curiously, wondering what had happened before he'd come to the store.
"Thank you, Mr. Malin," I said with as much of a smile as I could muster. "I'll do my best. I got you lunch, it's in the back in the fridge."
"I'll take care of dinner tonight," he said as he looke
d at the case and reached in to straighten a piece that was already perfectly straight. "I'll order out."
"Are you okay, Max?" I asked, softening my hard-line stance as I looked at him. I couldn't tell if he wanted to cry or kill someone, but it was clear that something bad had happened while he was away from the store. I softened a bit more and asked, ”Do you need me to stay?"
"Oh no, I'm fine. Don't be silly." He waved me off with an unconvincing smile. "It's just a family thing, no big deal."
"Is your dad okay?" I asked. I knew his father lived in town and that he often went to see him. I assumed that his father was old and in need of help with basic living tasks, so it wouldn't have surprised me to find out that he'd fallen and hurt himself or something.
"Yeah, he's fine," Max sighed. "He's good. It's…it's…my brother."
"Oh, is he okay?" I asked.
"No, not really," he admitted, but when he didn't explain further, I felt like pushing wasn't what he wanted. Besides, I had an audition to make and I didn't want to be late.
"I'm so sorry, Max," I said. "Can we talk about it over dinner, maybe?"
"Yeah, sure, no problem," he said in a distracted way. "Did you sell the aquamarine set?
"I did!" I replied. "Mrs. Zakhrov came in and bought it right after I'd opened up. She also wants a special statement piece, and she want me to ask you about the Star of Russia. Do you know what she's talking about?"
"I do. I'll take care of it," he said as he checked another case. I could tell he was trying to avoid looking at me, and there was something disturbing about it.
"Max, are you sure you're okay?" I asked again, this time a little softer. "Is there anything I can do?"