His Queen of Clubs

by Rose, Renee

  Now I’ve scared the boy by voicing my own fears.

  He stares at me with wide frightened eyes, but then he throws his arms around me and presses his head against my chest.

  I gulp and rub his back.

  Alessia gets up from the couch and comes over. She rubs Mika’s head.

  He looks up and sniffs, wiping his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says.

  “Don’t,” I say more forcefully than I mean to. “Don’t apologize. Is better to get it out. Leave it behind. Leave it here, in Moscow.”

  I meet Alessia’s sorrowful gaze over the top of Mika’s head, and I realize I’m deep in territory I never wanted to enter. The emotional realm. I haven’t bared my soul to anyone, much less a twelve-year-old boy, since I was a child. And yet here I am, doing everything I can to make sure Mika gets a better shot at being a decent human being than I had.

  And it’s because of Alessia. She believed I could—counted on me to do it, so I have.

  I may have shown her my worst side when Sabina showed up, but she’s also seeing my best. Which admittedly isn’t much, but it’s more than I’ve attempted in my entire sordid past.

  I reach up and catch her hand and squeeze it and she squeezes back.

  For one moment, I pretend we’re a strange and unlikely family: Alessia, Mika and me.

  But I know it won’t last.

  It can’t.

  I already feel the ending screaming up to us without regard to what we accomplish here tonight.

  Chapter 17

  Vlad

  I’m trying not to let the tension show, but both Mika and Alessia pick up my mood on the way to Victor’s. Mika’s pale and subdued. Alessia keeps darting glances my way.

  “Why do you have to bring Mika and me?” she asks.

  “Victor requested it.” I don’t look over. I want to hold her hand, but I don’t want her to feel how cold mine is. I know something bad is coming, I just can’t figure out what it will be.

  “Does he speak English?”

  “No. You are safe. Say nothing. Look innocent. I won’t let him hurt you.”

  She blanches. “What about Mika?” She heard what I said last night, about not letting Victor take him. I should’ve kept my goddamn mouth shut. Now they’re both worried.

  “I will tell him Mika’s very valuable. I am training him to hack and he has great aptitude for it. Victor will be pleased. Right now I am irreplaceable. And now that my mother’s dead, I think he might prefer to replace me.”

  Mika watches me intently. When I look at him and raise my brows, he nods.

  “You are learning quickly, no? You have great skill already for such a young boy.”

  He looks doubtful.

  “He does not know better. He barely knows how to use a computer. I will teach you these things. I will teach you everything you need to survive the bratva. Or if you don’t want this, I will help you escape. Your choice. You have choices. And you have me. Don’t forget it.”

  “I want to stay and learn from you.” Mika’s voice is clear and strong.

  I nod. “Good. So it will be. Don’t be afraid.”

  “I’m not,” he lies.

  We get to Victor’s luxury apartment building and are let in by the bratva guards at the door. Victor owns the entire building, but he’s made the top his penthouse. We take the elevator up and I knock on the door.

  One of the brotherhood answers and greets me. “He’s waiting for you in his office,” he says in Russian. He eyes Alessia with interest, and I put my hand on her nape and draw her closer, showing ownership.

  Here she can’t be my bride.

  Just my property.

  “Ah, Vladimir,” Victor greets me, standing up. We shake hands. “And who is this?” Victor stands in front of Mika, looking down with a warm, grandfatherly air.

  “Mikhael Popov.”

  Victor cups one side of the boy’s face. “Brave boy, living alone in America. You have everything the brotherhood requires.”

  This is the Victor whose acceptance and attention I craved so badly as a boy. The one I tried so hard to make myself worthy of, to impress.

  Mika’s not so easily won. “Spasibo.”

  Victor smiles and straightens, turning to Alessia. “And your Italian prize.”

  I work hard not to tighten my grip on her nape. He must read my ferocity because he doesn’t try to touch her.

  A tap sounds on the door and Sabina enters. “I heard you were bringing an American guest. May I borrow her? To practice my English?” To Alessia, she says, “Would you like to join me in the kitchen for a coffee while the men do the man-talk?”

  Dammit.

  I didn’t tell Alessia that Sabina would be here and her poker face sucks. The surprise is unmistakable.

  “She is surprised at your English, my dear,” Victor says, squeezing Sabina’s hand. “Yes, take the girl away. I’m sure she’ll be happy for a reprieve from Vlad.”

  I release her reluctantly.

  I don’t like this. Not even a little bit. And I can’t even figure out a way to send Mika with her to keep an eye on things.

  “Don’t worry,” Victor says. “She can’t escape my home. I have men at every exit.”

  My paranoia is full speed because I’m not sure whether that’s intended as a warning to me, or a comfort.

  I force my expression into something more agreeable and nod. “Go ahead,” I say stiffly to Alessia, who shoots me a furious look before she follows Sabina from the room.

  I pull out a chair and sit opposite Victor at his great desk. Time to show him I’m still worth keeping around. And the sooner I do it and get out of here, the better.

  * * *

  Alessia

  What. The Actual. Fuck?

  Why is Vlad’s ex here, leading me to the kitchen?

  I’m uneasy as hell. I don’t like being separated from Vlad, especially because I know he was uncomfortable about this meeting. I was kept out of mafia business, but I know enough to know that murder and double-crosses happen all the time.

  There’s a chance Vlad’s about to be killed.

  Or I am.

  And I sure as hell don’t trust Sabina or her fake syrupy politeness. She leads me into a lavish kitchen and makes me a cup of instant coffee in the microwave.

  Disgusting.

  Seriously, Russians need to learn about espresso machines. Today.

  I sit at the breakfast bar and pretend to sip it.

  She sits beside me, too close. I try to scoot away, and then I realize she’s not elbowing me, she’s trying to pass me something.

  It’s a cell phone.

  “Victor said you are prisoner,” she murmurs. “This is burner phone. You can call your family for help.”

  My fingers tremble as I reach for it and tuck it in my purse. Is this some kind of test? What’s her angle?

  “Why are you giving me this?”

  “I know what it’s like to be held captive by bratva. To be a woman without options.” The pretty blonde suddenly looks ancient.

  I go still, my suspicions ebbing away. This much, I believe. “Were you captive of Zima?”

  She looks over, surprised. “Vlad told you this?”

  I nod.

  “What else did he say?”

  I consider how much to reveal. I want to know the truth about this story. “He thinks you tried to trick him into killing Zima.”

  “Yes. He’s right. Zima was violent man. Cruel. He never let me out. So I looked higher in the organization, sought someone not afraid of him. I tried Vlad. He holds important position in the brotherhood. Is untouchable, they say. The most powerful, second to Victor. And they say he’s the wealthiest.” She twirls a gold and diamond bracelet around her wrist. “This is important. I wasn’t risking my neck to downgrade my condition.”

  I hide my shock at her admission. Vlad was definitely right about her—she’s all about manipulation. Still, I believe her story. I guess because she isn’t trying to hide her flaws.

&n
bsp; “Zima was away on business, so I seduced Vlad. I tricked him into getting me pregnant. I thought a baby would be enough to persuade him. Men go crazy over reproducing.”

  She fumbles in her purse and pulls out a photo of a newborn. Her lips tremble when she hands it to me. “But Vlad was heartless. He refused to kill Zima. He wanted nothing to do with me. So I had to look elsewhere.” Her gaze travels in the direction of the office.

  “Victor,” I guess.

  She nods. “But Victor would not take me with a child, so I had to give her up. Put her in an orphanage.”

  My stomach knots.

  An orphanage.

  God, no.

  Vlad’s child is in a Russian orphanage? How is that possible? He brought me to one. He’s seen how understaffed they are. How sad the conditions are. Does he really hate this woman so much he would forsake his own child in one?

  “Vlad knows this?” I choke out.

  She nods, eyes brimming with tears. “I wrote him dozens of letters. Tried to visit yesterday. He won’t claim our child.”

  My own eyes swim with tears. Can this be true?

  Sabina grabs my wrist and squeezes. “You are kind. I knew I was right to help you.”

  The sound of masculine voices comes through the door and she snatches the photo back and shoves it in her purse. “Say nothing,” she hisses.

  I nod and stand on wobbly legs.

  It feels like the whole world is tilting. Sliding and rearranging. I don’t know if I even know Vlad. I want this all to be untrue.

  I need to get to the bottom of it immediately.

  “Come, Alessia,” Vlad barks from the doorway.

  His authoritative orders don’t turn me on right now. They seriously piss me off.

  My mouth tightens and I toss my hair, but go to him. As soon as we’re in the elevator, he growls, “What in the hell was that about?”

  I whirl on him, angry. “You tell me, Vlad. What do you know about Sabina’s baby?”

  “There’s no fucking—” The elevator dings and he shuts his mouth, gripping my upper arm too tight. Mika trails behind us silently. As soon as we’re on the sidewalk outside, he says, “There’s no fucking baby. The woman is a bag of lies and you are stupid if you believe them.”

  I’m a firm believer in the no name-calling rules in relationships.

  I go ice cold and keep my voice low and dangerous. “Don’t call me stupid.”

  Vlad shoves his fingers through his hair. “I don’t mean that. I’m sorry. But I know what is true.”

  “Do you?” I demand. “She showed me a picture of your baby. The one she put in an orphanage because she couldn’t seduce Victor with her around.”

  Vlad stares at me, color draining from his face. “No.”

  “Da,” I say, as if throwing his own language back at him makes it stronger. “I saw the picture. She had no reason to lie to me, she was trying to save me from you. Look, she gave me a phone to call my brothers.” I wave it in the air like evidence.

  Vlad’s face goes from pale to fiery.

  I take a step back.

  “I see. Now I see. Of course you two are plotting together,” he snarls. “That’s what women do—scheme and trick. Use your beauty and allure to manipulate men and destroy lives. Well, good. You should know, printsessa, that calling your brothers was a big mistake. You think your brothers can land in Moscow without bratva knowing? Without bratva slaying them before their feet touch solid ground? They don’t come here without my invitation. You’d better call back and tell them that.”

  I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. Tears burn my eyes. “Fuck you!” I shout. “Seriously, Vlad. Go fuck yourself.”

  The childish words are the best I can do. The best expression of my hurt and rage.

  I turn on my heel and march off down the sidewalk.

  I’m certain Vlad will be on me in a moment. That he’ll grab me and force me back to the limo. I’m planning on kicking and screaming and biting the whole way, because I’ve had it with his shit.

  But he doesn’t.

  He doesn’t follow.

  And I’m relieved at first.

  Until I realize maybe there’s one thing worse.

  Worse than being held prisoner by a man who thinks all women are manipulative bitches.

  Being abandoned by him.

  * * *

  Vlad

  I watch Alessia’s back, her angry stride, with betrayal shredding through my center.

  Another woman playing me for the fool.

  Manipulating me. Doing whatever she has to to get what she wants.

  Once more I’m the little boy being offered up to the bratva to secure my mother’s place as Victor’s lover.

  Let her go, that wounded self screams. Never open your heart to a woman.

  But she’s Alessia, and I can’t stop caring.

  “Go with her,” I bark at Mika.

  He glares up at me, his accusation plain.

  I shove a wad of money in his hand. “Keep her safe.”

  He gives me one last damning look before he obeys, running off after her.

  Blyat.

  I knew something bad was coming. I thought it would be from Victor. I never dreamed Sabina would continue to cause me this much trouble.

  I wave the limo off and walk back to our hotel, my anger fueling my long strides. By the time I get back, I have to know the truth.

  I sit down at my computer and hack into public records. If Sabina had a live birth, it will be recorded. And if she gave that child up for adoption, I’ll be able to find that, too.

  Getting to the bottom of this is the first step to dealing with that woman’s treachery.

  * * *

  Alessia

  “Go back, Mika.”

  I walk for at least forty-five minutes—taking rests when I get winded—when I realize that Vlad may not have followed, but Mika did. He’s trailing five feet behind me, head ducked like a bad spy.

  But he doesn’t belong with me, he belongs with Vlad. I have a phone—I can call my brothers. They’ll figure out how to get me home safely. But Mika can’t come with me. I mean, he could, but I don’t think it’s the best option for him. And Vlad needs him.

  I stop and turn to face him. “Mika, you should go back. Vlad will be worried about you.”

  He holds out a roll of cash. “He sent me to keep you safe.”

  I sigh and take the money. If I weren’t so pissed, I might find it almost sweet.

  Almost.

  I sort through the bills. “Is there enough for us to get a hotel room?”

  He glances at the rubles and nods.

  “Then come on, let’s go find a place to stay.”

  My feet are already tired and we walk around forever because Mika doesn’t know where any hotels are, and I don’t speak Russian. Eventually, I tell him to hail a cab and tell them to take us to the nicest hotel. I can’t tell you how happy I am when they pull up in front of the Moscow Marriott Grand Hotel.

  Feels like I’m back in America already.

  And what do you know? They even speak English at the front desk.

  They don’t like my lack of identification and credit card, though. I have to turn on my most convincing rich girl attitude to explain that my wallet was stolen and I lost everything. That I plan to go to the embassy tomorrow, but right now my feet are killing me and I just need a room to put them up.

  It works.

  In our room, I throw myself on the bed. I’m exhausted and so, so heavy. I’m too numb to even cry.

  Mika paces around the room “Should you check your blood sugar?”

  “I’ll do it in a little bit. Why don’t you order us some food?” I suggest.

  The phone Sabina gave me burns a hole in my purse, but I don’t pull it out. Don’t call my brothers. Not yet.

  It’s not because I’m afraid of what Vlad said, although it is a concern.

  It’s more the sense that I’m not finished here.

  I sort of do
n’t believe it’s over between me and Vlad.

  And I don’t want to leave like this—hating Vlad.

  I don’t want to leave thinking the worst of him.

  Even after the things he said to me.

  He’s also the same man who handled Mika’s tears last night. The man who promised to find me a kidney.

  The guy who makes my sexual satisfaction his entire purpose in the bedroom.

  Is he perfect?

  Hell, no.

  Not even close.

  But he made me happy.

  Happier than I thought possible, especially considering the circumstances. I felt special and beautiful and safe with him.

  Cared for. Alive.

  Cherished.

  And I don’t want to get on a plane and never see him again after the way we left things.

  But I’m also too angry at the moment to want to work things out.

  I have a hot Italian temper and it needs time to cool.

  If I’m super honest with myself, I’ll admit I wanted him to follow me, to sweep me up and fix it, the way he does. And I wanted to still be mad and resist that fixing until he really proved everything was all right.

  But he didn’t. He didn’t follow, he didn’t apologize. He hasn’t tried to fix.

  At least he sent Mika to keep me safe. I suppose this is a signal. He’s really letting me go.

  I close my eyes, too tired to even try to think through this shit swamp any more.

  * * *

  Vlad

  I call Mika a dozen times but he doesn’t answer. Little prick. I guess he’s taken Alessia’s side. In the time they’ve been gone, I hacked the public records.

  Sabina has a daughter in an orphanage. And she named me as the father on the birth certificate.

  That may or may not be true. The child may be Zima’s. It may be Victor’s; it may be any other number of men she attempted to manipulate into doing her bidding.