by Bree Porter
Danika cried out in surprise. “Tatiana, what is going on?”
Tatiana stood at the end of the hallway. No longer did she wear comfortable pajamas or have the complexion of a corpse. Now, she was dressed like a businesswoman, in a sleek gray dress with pumps. Without the swelling of her stomach, I might not have even realized it was the same woman I treated all those weeks ago.
Roksana had gone frighteningly still. She looked sad, but not surprised. Through her eyes of an outsider, I doubted she was surprised at anything horrific she saw her mafia-born friends do. It was probably an expectation, a symptom of how we were raised. Eventually we would do horrific things.
But Danika…She was looking around the hallway rapidly, from us to the floor to the windows. “I don’t…Tatiana?”
Tatiana moved her arm, revealing the gun in her palm. She held it expertly. “That’s enough, Danika.” Her voice…it was Tatiana’s voice but harder and colder. Like she had pulled a sheet of ice over her words.
Danika’s chin wobbled. “Why do you have a gun?”
“In case any of you try to run,” Tatiana noted. She pointed the gun at Roksana, the air leaving all our lungs with the action. “Hang up on Artyom, Roksana.”
“They know, Tatiana,” Roksana said. “You have minutes—minutes—before the men rain hell down on you.”
She laughed. “I’m afraid they’ll find some resistance from my own men, Roksana.” Her lips twisted. “I bet you wish you had said no to this life when you had the chance.”
Roksana didn’t refute her claim.
Tatiana’s eyes danced to me, narrowing as they hit their target. She didn’t move the gun from where it was pointed, only neared her finger to the trigger.
My throat tightened.
“Ah, nasty Elena, the widow of stupid Thaddeo and now the plaything of arrogant Konstantin.”
I growled, “Tatiana, the mother of Anton and Nikola.”
No reaction flashed over her face. “You should’ve left when you had the chance, Elena,” she merely said. “Not doing so will be the greatest regret of your life.”
“We’ll see,” I narrowed my eyes, “Titus.”
Tatiana smiled slowly, her entire face transforming. Gone was the nurturing mother who doted on her family and bravely fought against her illness. Now standing before me was a boss, a monster, someone who could walk into a room and silence it.
Danika saw it too. “Tell me it’s not true,” she half-pleaded. “I would’ve seen it...would’ve known...”
Tatiana’s attention moved to Danika, the gun tilting as she moved. My brain picked up on the movement, coming to life as a plan formed. “You have never interrogated me, Danika. Perhaps if you hadn’t trusted me so much, you would have.”
“Trusted you?” she whispered. “I love you. I’ve known you since I was a teenager. You taught me about boys, and how to apply lipstick. I’m your son’s godmother. We’re family; I loved you.” Danika swallowed loudly.
“Love has no place in this world, Danika,” Tatiana said.
As quick as a whip, I lashed out. My hands came around the gun, the force causing Tatiana’s hands to come loose. It hit the wall, clattering out of our range.
“Neither does hesitation,” I hissed.
Tatiana bared her teeth in response, shoving me away. Her nails cut through my hands, stinging erupting. “Neither do women, Elena,” she warned. “Stay out of my way.”
“I will not.”
“Fine.” She looked over her shoulder, “Boys!”
Four figures emerged, each terrifying in their own way. Their tattoos indicated allegiances to La Cosa Nostra and the Bratva and other families respectfully. They separated; two going for Roksana and two heading for Danika.
Roksana shoved away but hit the wall, allowing them to trap her between their grip. Danika threw a punch, it hit nothing but air and she quickly found herself imprisoned as well.
“Don’t struggle,” Tatiana said.
“Leave them alone!” I growled. I started forward, not sure what I was going to do but needing to do something, when Tatiana caught my arm.
In perfect Italian, she said, “Se vuoi que loro rimangano in vita, comportati bene.”
If you want them to live, behave.
I stopped.
“I’m not going anywhere!” Roksana said, a sudden viciousness overtaking her. She tried to pull out of her jailer’s grips, but they held fast. She shouted in fury. “You won’t get away with this, Tatiana!”
“I already have,” she noted. With a flick of her wrist, the men dragged the other two women out of the rom.
Danika dug her heels into the ground, but she wasn’t physically strong enough. Roksana definitely wasn’t, not with her injury.
My stomach dropped.
Roksana looked back at me as she was carted away. We’ll be okay, her eyes implored. We’re all going to be okay.
In this instance, Roksana’s optimism was misplaced.
None of us were going to come out of this okay.
Tatiana clucked her tongue as soon as they were out of sight. I could hear them yelling as they were dragged away, their voices growing fainter and fainter.
“What do you want from me, Tatiana?” I asked.
Her eyes gleamed. “I won’t ask how you know I want something from you. The answer is too obvious, I’m afraid.” She ran a hand over her stomach in thought. “You’re the only one who figured it out. I fooled my family, doctors, professionals, but you saw right through it.”
“It wasn’t hard,” I mocked.
A faint smile grew over her face. “Not to you, it wasn’t.” She looked over at me. “I want to offer you an opportunity, Elena.”
I laughed, the noise echoing down the hallway. “Fuck off. I don’t want anything from you.”
“Oh, I think you will.” Tatiana assessed me with her blue-gray eyes. She was able to see something in me and whatever it was, it made her smirk. “I won’t beat around the bush. I want revenge and I want power. The current era is dwindling to an end and I intend to survive the cull.”
The current era of the mafia was coming to an end. I could feel it; everybody could feel it. It was time to adapt or perish.
“What does that have to do with me?” I asked.
“Your talents are wasted, Elena. I know that, and you know that just as well. A mind like yours could be coveted...and it would have been, had you been born a man.”
I lifted my chin. “If I had been born a man, I wouldn’t be as smart.”
Her eyes gleamed. “Very true. But the fact remains. You will never have the respect you deserve. You will always be just a woman in this world. A baby-making machine who doubles as a bargaining chip for allegiances.”
“And in your world, that isn’t the case?”
Tatiana shook her head. “You would be one of my closest advisors, a position you deserve, and would have if you weren’t a woman.” Her eyes invited me. “Don’t you want that, Elena? Notoriety? Your superior intelligence revered?”
Some part of me did want that. Even after publishing a random journal article under a pseudonym, I had still craved my peers’ validation. My looks and personality had never been anything I cared about, but my brain? My intelligence? I held it up to the highest degree, and expected others to do the same.
Arrogant, yes. But true.
If I hadn’t been born in this world, my life would’ve been so different. I would’ve graduated high school early, gone to the college of my choice. I would’ve spent my years researching and discussing, sitting in labs and typing away at computers. There would’ve been awards and medals.
But that wasn’t my fate. Nor would it ever be.
“I do,” I said honestly.
Tatiana’s expression sharpened. “I can give all that to you,” she said. “I have been underestimated as well, Elena.” She sure had. “But revenge will be mine. Will you join me?”
“Why will you have revenge?” I asked.
Tatiana’s lips
thinned. “The men in this world...they only know how to take. And who do they take the most from? Women in this world. All we do is give: our wombs, our time, our lives. But I refuse to give anymore. What about you, Elena, will you keep giving?” Amusement sparked in her eyes. “You have only ever cared about yourself, this I know. Why stop now?”
I had only cared about myself.
Every move I have ever made was to keep myself alive and surviving. When my father had laid his hands on my mother, I didn’t make a move. But when he laid his hands on me? I killed him. The same with Thaddeo. I didn’t care about the innocents who had suffered at the hands of his crimes, but when he came after me? It was only a matter of time before his death was mine.
What place did a heartless creature like that have in the Tarkhanov Bratva? Monsters, yes. But they loved each other. Past the fangs and violence, they saw each other at their core and loved them fiercely. Nobody went without and everybody was always happy to give.
And for a brief time...just a moment...I had been a part of that. I had received and given, been cared for and cared for in return.
I looked at Tatiana.
Her entire adult life, Tatiana had been loved and loved in return.
But I feared the damage had been wrought long before she’d met Dmitri. And I doubted even his love for her would’ve been enough to combat the darkness in her soul.
“Why me?” I asked. “Because I’m so apathetic and intelligent?”
Tatiana smiled. “Of course. Why else?” She peered at me. “You were the destroyer of my plans and now you will be their redemption. The things we will achieve together, Elena...oh, we shall go down in history.”
History.
The word sat in my mind, bright and potent.
I looked down at my hands. Words scrawled over the knuckles and fingers and palms. My thoughts summed up in a mixture of chaotic letters. Cold-shoulder, loneliness, nausea, misery.
And in between the thumb and pointing-finger, a small four-letter word had been written—outlined enough that it was darker than the other scrawls.
“No.”.
Tatiana went still. “No?”
I met her eyes, holding my chin high. “No. I will not help you, child killer. When my work is held in high esteem, it will have nothing to do with anybody else but me.”
Her lips curled back. “Fine. Have it your way.” She grabbed my arm and dragged me to the window.
Down in the garden, among the wild shrubs and overgrown plants, Roksana and Danika were kneeling. The four men who had taken them stood around. Two held guns, and those guns were pointed straight at Roksana and Danika.
My stomach fell.
“Oh, Elena,” Tatiana cooed. “The stupidest thing you have ever done is cared about someone other than yourself. Not so smart, now, are you?”
I said, in a voice that sounded like mine but was not, “If any harm comes to either of them, you will pay.”
“Yes, yes. Artyom and Roman will hunt me down. I’m not scared of them,” she laughed. “I practically raised Roman. He will be easy to predict and defeat.”
I turned my head to her slowly. “Don’t ever let your guard down, Titus,” I murmured. “Because the day you do, I will be there. You might not see me, but I will be there. Whether in your food or drink, maybe even a pretty bouquet of flowers you receive. I will be there.”
Tatiana didn’t appreciate my threat, a muscle in her jaw twitching. “You could’ve had it all,” she said, almost thoughtfully. “I’m afraid, Elena, if you’re not with me, you’re against me.”
“Obviously,” I growled.
She smiled faintly and waved a finger.
On her command, the men down below cocked their guns.
My stomach dropped like a lead balloon.
“Here is what is going to happen,” she said. “You’re going to leave. I don’t care where you go. But you will leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I hissed.
Tatiana shrugged. “Fine.” She waved a hand.
I snatched her fingers in the air before the gunshot sounded. “Do not.”
“Then agree to leave,” she replied. “Or else you can say goodbye to your precious family.”
“They’re your family, too.”
Tatiana’s eyes darkened. “My family was killed when I was child. Though I will not relish in their deaths, they are necessary to getting what I want.”
I assessed her. “And they say I am cold.”
“Make a decision, Elena,” she said.
“Why not just kill me?” I wondered.
Tatiana’s eyebrows rose in faint alarm. “And lose a mind as sharp as your own? No, no. You will come to your senses,” she said. “Why are you so resistant? Haven’t you wanted to leave the entire time? Why stay now?”
Why stay now?
I looked down at Roksana and Danika, still at the end of a gun. My eyes kept moving, resting on my abdomen.
Why stay now?
Tatiana laughed softly. “Oh, I see.”
When I looked back up to her eyes, she was smiling knowingly like she understood. Her hand caressed her stomach, the movement too loving to match her bloodthirsty expression.
I didn’t respond.
“I am slowly losing my patience, Elena,” Tatiana said. “Stay and be the reason Roksana and Danika are dead or leave and save their lives.”
I banded an arm around my stomach protectively, like the pressure would stop the pit welling inside of me.
I opened my mouth. “I—”
“Mama? Auntie Lena?”
We both turned, my lips parting in horror. A few feet away, dressed in his Spiderman pajamas, Anton stood. Wrapped up in his chubby little hand was the discarded gun.
30
Elena Falcone
“Anton, baby.” Tatiana gestured to him with a gentle hand. “Give Mama the gun.”
I took a step forward, catching his attention. “Anton, stay there. Do not move.”
Confusion filled his face at the conflicting instructions. His blue eyes darted between us, expecting us to make a cohesive decision.
“Darling,” fussed Tatiana. “Give Mama the gun. Come now, it’s not safe.”
Anton brought the gun closer to his chest, so vulgar in his innocent hands. “Mama?” His voice sounded unsure.
Even her son had picked up on a change.
Tatiana made an effort to smooth her expression, donning the mask she had been wearing for decades. “Anton, baby–”
A loud noise resonated throughout the hall. It shook the windows and chandeliers, rumbling through the wooden floors and plastered walls. Shouts followed after, then two gunshots.
I fled to the window, desperate to see.
Danika was on her feet, gun in hand and standing over a fallen man, with Roman on her left. Behind her, Artyom had an arm wrapped around Roksana’s waist, his expression monstrous. Konstantin’s bratok crossed over the gardens, heading for the house.
I turned to Tatiana. “The game is over, now.”
“Not yet it isn’t,” she hissed. She spun to Anton. “Give Mama the gun!” She went to grab it, but Anton started back.
The gun fell.
What happened next happened in a blink of an eye but somehow also over the course of one hundred years.
I heard more than saw the bullet leave the chamber. But I saw Tatiana double over, clutching her abdomen.
Her scream shattered the room.
My mind caught up before my heart did. Disbelief and horror held hands around my chest, squeezing tightly.
There was no way...
Anton began screaming too.
Tatiana leaned back, her hands reaching out.
Like they had been freshly painted, her hands were slicked with red.
Blood.
“Anton!” I went to grab him. He fell into my arms, his little body molding into the offered comfort. His crying did not stop, sounding in my ear like an alarm.
Tatiana fell against the wall
, shock spreading her eyes and mouth wide open.
Her stomach...it was bleeding.
“Put pressure on it,” I spat. With Anton in my arms, I tried to go to her, tried to press my hands on the wound.
Tatiana shoved me away.
Before anything else could be said, my name roared through the halls.
“ELENA!”
My Konstantin.
I screamed his name back.
A second later, he came around the hall, gun in palm and expression deadly. His light brown eyes had darkened in possession and his features were warped with fury. Not the charming politician anymore…now the bloodthirsty beast who rose to power on the backs of corpses.
He pointed his gun on Tatiana immediately. “Enough now, Titus,” he hissed. “Your little ploy has come to an end.”
She laughed, the sound tightened by pain. “My ploy has just begun, Kostya.”
Konstantin looked to me. I felt him assess me for injuries, before he took in the screaming toddler in my arms.
His eyes darted to Tatiana’s bleeding abdomen.
Slowly, Konstantin lowered his gun, a brief spark of humanity visible in his expression. But not enough for him to stop pointing the weapon at Tatiana completely.
There was a flash and Dmitri rounded the corner. His eyes took in the scene.
“Tati,” he stepped forward, eyes searching her expression fiercely.
He didn’t look like a mobster or a krysha of the Tarkhanov Bratva. He looked like a man who had just had his heart torn to shreds.
“Dmitri,” Tatiana said coldly.
“Tell me it isn’t true.” Even Dmitri sounded like he wouldn’t believe her if she tried to defend herself.
I wondered how much he had seen over the course of their marriage and written off as a coincidence or non-important. No one else in the world had been closer to Tatiana than Dmitri.
Tatiana lifted her chin. “And what will you do if it is, husband?”
He met her eyes. “Kill you.”
A slow saccharine smile grew over her fac, pushing past the pain. “Oh,” she laughed. “I don’t think it’s going to come to that.”
The window shattered. Glass flew in every direction.
I bowed over Anton, shielding him from the shards. His little head buried into my chest, his tears soaking through my shirt.