The Russian Unleashed

by Red Phoenix

  Vlad’s sarcastic laughter fills the room. “How can you act all high and mighty when you have been receiving the same stipend we have?”

  My voice grows cold when I remind him, “I earned it with every lash my father gave me. I never had the opportunity to act like a spoiled child because my childhood was ripped from me.”

  The room grows silent.

  As much as my brothers resent me, they witnessed the beatings. They know exactly what I endured.

  “So, is that it, then?” Pavel asks me. “Is there nothing we can say to change your mind?”

  “An apology would help,” I say drily.

  Vlad and Andrev glare at me.

  Timur is the first to break the silence. “I am sorry for confronting you like this. This should have been a civilized conversation among brothers.”

  I shake my head. “This…” I make a sweeping gesture toward them all. “…is nothing. I expected this. What I need is an apology for banning me from Mamulya’s funeral.”

  I notice Timur and Pavel shifting uncomfortably on their feet.

  Finally, Pavel speaks up. “It wasn’t possible. Father deserved to pay his respects.”

  I hit my chest several times. “I deserved to pay my respects! He was the one who ordered her death.”

  The tension in the room rises to dangerous levels, but I don’t care. I’m ready to have it out with all four of them.

  “There you go again, accusing Father of murdering her!” Vlad growls. “We all know you are the reason she died. You. You are bad luck, Anton.”

  His words actually hurt because, in a sense, he’s right. Father had the people I loved killed because of the damn inheritance I now control.

  The only thing that brings any sense of comfort is the secret I hold close to my heart. I know my father died a slow and torturous death because I was there.

  Timur startles me when I feel his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry you were not allowed to mourn with the family.”

  I feel an ache in my chest, remembering that day. I was forced to grieve for my mother alone in the rain after everyone else had left. Although his words cannot take the painful memory away, it does affect me.

  I nod in acknowledgment.

  I wish I could feel closer to my brothers, but I feel nothing. My father purposely kept me separated from them, so I do not share the brotherly bonds that they do.

  I glare at Andrev, waiting for his apology after the insult he threw at me earlier. My hatred for him only grows with each passing second. “You are not allowed to ever call me that again.”

  Andrev folds his arms across his chest and glowers at me in silence.

  Timur bumps his shoulder. “It was low, Andrev. Apologize.”

  He shakes his head, narrowing his eyes in defiance.

  “Then I have nothing more to say,” I tell them. “You may all leave my house.”

  I see Vlad tense on hearing my little reminder that the mansion now belongs to me.

  “Damn it, Andrev. Apologize to him. We need that money,” Pavel whines.

  Andrev growls. “I despise you, Anton.”

  “The feeling is mutual, maggot.”

  He looks at the other three and scowls at them angrily.

  “Do it,” Pavel whines.

  Andrev’s upper lip curls in a snarl. “I am sorry for calling you what you are, but I promise not to do it again.”

  Timur groans, but I hear Vlad chuckle under his breath.

  What I wouldn’t give to use my cat o’ nines right now and erase both of their snide expressions.

  “Enough!” Timur cries. “Stop acting like a child and apologize to Anton. If not for us, then in memory of our dear mother.”

  The mood in the room changes at once. Despite our differences, we are unified in our love for our mother.

  Andrev looks at me again and lets out a tortured sigh. “For Mother’s sake alone, I apologize to you, and I will not say it again.”

  I glare at him. “See that you don’t.”

  “Now that your ego has been appeased, answer the question,” Vlad demands. “Are you going to continue the stipends?”

  I incline my head and smile. “Yes—and no.”

  “What?” Andrev shrieks.

  I see I finally have their attention.

  “I will not continue to take your manhood away as has been done in the past. You will work hard for your money like every good Russian must.”

  When Vlad starts to protest, I put my hand up.

  “However, I will not abandon your families. I have decided to lower your stipends to a reasonable amount to support them as a courtesy to you.”

  “A courtesy?” Andrev bellows.

  I raise an eyebrow. “What else would you call it when I willingly give your family charity at your request?”

  I find it amusing to watch the veins pop out of Andrev’s forehead as he starts fuming again.

  “That is our money! Our money!” Vlad shouts.

  They all nod in agreement.

  “Feel free to take it up with Grandfather,” I joke angrily. “But he was quite specific in his will, and none of the assets have been willed to you.”

  “You’re such a fucking asshole!” Vlad growls.

  All four brothers begin burning with rage. They look like they are about to explode, so I add gasoline to the fire.

  “Of course, I am under no obligation to give anyone a stipend.” I look directly at Vlad. “You are in control of your future.”

  I take pleasure in using his own words against him. I enjoy that little twist of the knife.

  “You’re such a hypocrite,” Andrev snarls. “Here you judge us, acting all righteous by telling us we must work for our money, when you sit on your ass, swimming in it.”

  “You are wrong, Andrev. Grandfather knew that the person who inherited it would become a slave to that responsibility. What you see as a tremendous gift is actually a cruel punishment.”

  Andrev clasps his hands together dramatically, looking around at his brothers. “Let’s all feel sorry for Anton, shall we?”

  Vlad snarls. “If this burden is too big for you, then why are you keeping it all for yourself? Why not split it up five ways and be done with it?”

  The others shout their agreement.

  So, I tell them the truth. “You would not be able to handle it.”

  “I’m willing to make that sacrifice,” Andrev states.

  I look him in the eyes when I tell him, “I would never be so cruel. It would destroy your family.”

  “Oh, Anton, the savior of us all!” Vlad cries sarcastically.

  I sigh in frustration.

  They are fools. Grandfather knew it, and he made me the king of fools. I look toward the heavens, unamused.

  “Surely, Grandfather never meant for Anton to keep it all,” Pavel whimpers to Timur.

  Of all my brothers, Timur is the only one who seems to be listening. Rolling back his shoulders, he turns to face me. “I accept the generosity of your monthly gift, Anton.”

  I nod to him. “Peace be with you and your family, Timur.”

  Not wanting to lose his stipend, Pavel blurts, “Thank you, Anton.”

  “You’re welcome, Pavel.”

  Vlad and Andrev stare at each other. While I don’t care if I ever see either of them again, I’d hate for their wives and children to suffer because of their pride.

  However, my two older brothers need to practice a little humility.

  I’m actually surprised when Vlad goes first. “While I resent you, I will not turn down your money.”

  Rather than wishing his family well, I tell him with all sincerity, “I pray that God provides your wife with extraordinary forbearance in the years ahead. The poor woman needs it.”

  He scowls. “Fuck you, Anton!”

  I raise my eyebrows and wait.

  Through gritted teeth, he tells me. “My family thanks you for the gift.”

  I find his response acceptable and nod.

  Ever
yone turns to stare at Andrev.

  He shakes his head, unable to accept I am solely in charge of the Durov estate, even though he knows Grandfather chose me.

  I find his inner struggle entertaining to watch.

  Andrev looks at the other three, growling in disgust. “Is that really it? All of you are willing to lap up his scraps like mangy dogs?”

  They say nothing.

  Andrev turns his anger back on me. “Well, I am not going to prostrate myself before the likes of you. Not for any amount of money.”

  I smile. “Fine.”

  His eyes widen in surprise.

  “I’m only offering it as a courtesy to your children. Unfortunately, I can’t control the fact that their father is a prideful half-wit.”

  Vlad grips Andrev’s arm to calm him. “Get it over with, Andrev,” he mutters. “It means nothing.”

  But it’s obvious it means something to Andrev. He’s much too proud.

  Knowing he needs this lesson in humility, I refuse to back down. “We’re finished here. You can see yourselves out.”

  Everyone looks at Andrev in concern. They know he depends on the stipend and his family will suffer needlessly without it.

  Timur speaks up. “Do what’s right for your children, Andrev.”

  “Yes,” Pavel pleads.

  Andrev sets his jaw, meeting my gaze with a look of defiance. It takes him several minutes to force himself to say it. “For my family’s sake, I accept your…” He spits out the word like it’s poison. “…charity.”

  “So be it,” I answer, turning my back on them. I close my eyes, fighting the increasing pain from my injuries.

  When I hear the four of them start for the door, I announce, “The locks will be changed after today. You will not be entering my home unannounced again.”

  I take satisfaction when I hear Andrev curse.

  Afterward, rather than sit down, I go outside to stare at the pole.

  I do not want to play this new role with my brothers.

  It seems cruel that I’m being forced to act as their protector again. As a child, I was the family whipping boy and took all their punishments for them. Now, I have been given the unsavory task as keeper of the Durov estate.

  I shake my head and look upward, calling out to my mother.

  “There is no need to cry anymore, Mamulya. I willingly accept my fate and promise to protect them all.”

  That evening, I gather the staff so we can mourn the death of the two men who gave their lives. While we drink vodka and share stories about them, I look at my staff and make a silent vow not to let another one die needlessly.

  Rescue

  Needing time alone with my thoughts, I slip on a knitted cap to cover my head, dress down, and put on my shades. I want to blend in with the crowd as I walk the streets of Moscow.

  I walk aimlessly until I look up at Sparrow Hills and feel drawn to it.

  Taking the metro to Vorobyevy Gory station, I get out and hike up the hill to the top. From there, I have a panoramic view of central Moscow from the Luzhniki Stadium, made famous during the 1980 Summer Olympics, to the iconic skyscrapers known as the Seven Sisters. The Moskva River runs at the base of the hill, and Moscow State University stands behind me.

  It’s peaceful here at this time of year because the Russian winter is too harsh for most foreigners. However, today there is no breeze in the air, and it feels almost warm to me.

  I close my eyes, taking in the rays of the sun as I listen to Tatianna’s trilling laughter in my mind.

  I know why I was drawn here. I needed to feel close to her.

  Although the memory hurts me, I can still hear the joy in her voice when she told me her plans to attend Moscow State University…

  “Mark my words, Anton. I will graduate with honors.”

  I graze my hand against her cheek. “I have no doubt, Tatianna. You have a brilliant mind.”

  She blushes a light shade of pink when I touch her, the chemistry between us palpable. “Did you know that the university was founded in 1755 by a decree of Empress Elizabeth and was founded on St. Tatiana Day?”

  I grin. “No, I did not.”

  “I am destined to go here.” She glances back at the building and states, “After I get my Master’s Degree in Linguistics, I plan to travel throughout Russia so I can preserve the minor languages of our Motherland.”

  Tatianna looks at me earnestly. “Did you know there are 120 native languages spoken here?”

  I shake my head, genuinely surprised.

  “When the older generations pass on, we will lose those languages which are unique to their region and culture.” Tatianna’s eyes fill with tears. “Think of all the wisdom and history that will be lost if something isn’t done.”

  “True.”

  I am proud of the intense love she has for our people.

  “Before we lose our older generation, I want to record their stories in their native languages and interpret them for future generations.”

  “That is a worthy endeavor. I’m impressed.”

  She smiles, suddenly embarrassed. “I just get worked up because nothing is being done.”

  I admire her passion and vision. “It’s rare to have such a clear purpose. Never apologize for it.”

  She bites her bottom lip and smiles shyly. The come-hither look in her eyes does neither of us any good when her older brother Titov walks up. “Are you about done here? Because I’m heading home.”

  I don’t appreciate the interruption and let out an irritated huff as I turn to face him. “We’ve been here a total of twenty minutes. I have no problem making sure Tatianna gets home safely.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I have a problem with it.”

  Looking at Tatianna, he barks. “We’re leaving. Now!”

  I get that he’s Tatianna’s brother but, lately, this “big brother act” has become intolerable. Ever since Titov started running with the Bratva, he’s been acting like a completely different person.

  We used to be best friends even though he’s several years older that me. We had fun as kids, and got into all kinds of mischief together. Lately, though, I hardly recognize the guy.

  “Anton, will you join us for lunch?” Tatianna asks sweetly. “My mother is making chebureki.”

  Titov growls, letting me know I’m not welcome.

  “Some other time, Tatianna,” I promise.

  She glances at her brother in irritation, then looks back at me, mouthing the words, I’m sorry.

  I smirk. I’m quite capable of dealing with her overbearing brother, but I won’t have to for much longer. Tatianna’s eighteenth birthday is coming up and I have big plans.

  On her birthday, I intend to treat her like the princess she is and claim her as mine.

  And there’s not a damn thing Titov can do about it.

  I let out a ragged sigh as I stare at the striking architecture of Moscow State University. Tatianna never got the chance to attend this place…

  How could the three of us know how close we were to losing everything that day?

  Tatianna had such vitality and passion. It never should have been snuffed out.

  I start back down the hill, my soul heavy with loss. I enter the train in a daze, unaware of the people around me. My heart aches with the same intensity as the day I lost her, and I put my hand to my chest, finding it difficult to breathe.

  I get off at the next stop so I can collect myself before the tears start to fall.

  As I stand there, taking deep breaths, I look across the tracks to the train stop on the other side. I see a young woman sitting alone, reading a book.

  A train thunders by between us, shaking the platform as the air fills with the loud clickety-clack of the wheels on the track.

  After it passes, the silence returns. I take several deep, calming breaths trying to ease the ache in my heart.

  I look to see the girl is still there, completely lost in her book.

  I walk over to study the train schedule and
realize I’m going to be stuck here for a while. I groan as I take a seat on the bench.

  Eventually, an old couple joins me.

  Not wanting to cry in front of them, I use the girl across the train tracks as a distraction by making up a story about who she is and where she is headed.

  I imagine she is the daughter of a high-ranking general. No doubt, her father is overly protective and rarely lets her out of his sight. Not one to stay caged, she sneaks out whenever she can and rides the train for hours. Although she knows that she’ll be punished for it when she returns, it’s worth the price to be free—if only for a little while.

  I see two men join her on the platform. She is oblivious of them, too caught up in her reading.

  I watch the men speak to each other as they look at her. After several minutes pass, they look around to see if anyone is watching.

  I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

  I stand up to let them know that I see them.

  Off in the distance, I hear another train racing down the tracks toward us.

  They look in the direction of it and start talking animatedly to each other. I call out to the girl, trying to get her attention, but she doesn’t look up from her book.

  The men look at me as the speeding train approaches.

  When they start walking toward the girl, I shout to warn her, but the whistle of the train drowns out my voice. I know she will be gone once the train passes.

  It’s like watching what happened to Tatianna play out in front of me.

  Glancing at the train barreling down the tracks, my instincts kick in.

  Without a thought for myself, I run toward the tracks. I know there’s no time to second-guess myself.

  The old people behind me scream for me to stop.

  I jump down onto the tracks and race to the other side, the ground beneath me rumbling with the weight of the approaching train.

  It blasts its whistle wildly.

  With adrenaline coursing through my body and only seconds to spare, I use superhuman strength to pull myself up to safety and feel the wind whip around me as the train rushes past.

  The girl is gone, but I can hear her screaming. Following the sound of it, I take the stairs several steps at a time in close pursuit.