“Then I simply stepped over the body and told the Maître d’ that I’d have to take the cheesecake to go…”
Roksana had stopped by the Glazov guesthouse to check on her aunt. She was curled up on the couch in Vladimira’s bedroom, listening with rapt attention to yet another of her aunt’s Bratva war stories. Vladimira had arrived from Russia only the day before and was enjoying holding court as she reconnected with her family. Anfisa already had the household unpacked for the most part, so Vladimira had some time to chat.
“Darling, you act like I’ve never talked about the hits I’ve handled over the years.” She sighed happily and patted Roksana’s hand. “Why, don’t you remember all those bedtime stories about my adventures when you were a little girl? Of course, I always did it under the guise of fairy tales for fear of pissing off the crazy mother bear who birthed you. Even as reckless as I am, I do have sense enough not to get caught in the crosshairs of a mother’s love. Your lovely mother is the epitome of serenity and grace, walking through our Bratva world untouched by the unpleasantness that can color our day-to-day business affairs – and somehow putting up with your father. But when it comes to protecting her children, she makes me look like Mary Poppins.”
“I always knew you were the evil queen, so I guess we both kept that secret safe from Mother.”
“Like hell you did,” Kathleen commented affectionately as she entered the room. “I knew exactly what my dear, deadly sister-in-law was up to. I just liked to keep her on her toes.” Kathleen kissed Vladimira’s cheek and the two exchanged a warm look. “You two are entirely too much alike to ever keep any secrets from me.”
This time it was Vladimira and Roksana exchanging a knowing, amused look.
“My husband tells me he’s been keeping you busy,” Kathleen began as she settled in on the couch next to Roksana. “He also tells me I would be particularly interested in your most recent kill. Do tell.”
“It was absolutely delicious, love,” Vladimira purred, holding out her hand briefly to admire the poison ring that went wherever she did. “This little beauty served me well. I really am such a fortunate woman. So many people sleepwalk their way through life, but me? I move through the world with life and death at my fingertips.”
More than once over the years, Kathleen had been grateful to not be on the receiving end of Vladimira’s wrath. Even the most brutal men in the organization revered her, and more than a few feared her. Something as simple as a kiss on the cheek could mean you were marked for death. And she was impossible to read, just like her brother. She allowed you to see what she wanted you to see, and nothing more.
“Tell me more,” Kathleen implored her, her inquisitive nature getting the best of her yet again. “You know how I love your stories.”
“Me, too, auntie dear,” Roksana teased with a grin, her chin resting in the palm of her hand. She adored her aunt, idolized her, even, and could get away with teasing her far more than anyone else.
“Oh, fine,” Vladimira grumbled in mock exasperation. “I can see the two of you aren’t going to stop until I give you a play by play. Very well,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper. “Then buckle your seatbelts, ladies, because Auntie V is going to take you on one hell of a ride.”
She lowered herself into the ruby red, velvet upholstered wingback chair across from her enthusiastic audience. Smoothing an imaginary wrinkle in her sleek black pencil skirt, she began to tell her tale of vengeance.
Her eyes took on a faraway look as she relived the experience. “You know, I read a book about cannibalism once. The adrenalin rush they get doesn’t come from the kill itself, but rather from misleading their prey into believing they’re safe. You see…it’s all part of the intricate setup to lure them into believing they’re your friend, your colleague, or even your treasured lover.”
Now both Roksana and Kathleen were hanging on to every word, enthralled by the husky cadence of her voice.
“I must admit, that’s the part of the game I love the most. Wining and dining someone, convincing them that I know nothing of their betrayal. I let the narcissistic fools think they hold all the power. They relax, become more confident. Too confident, as it turns out. Eventually, they make the fatal mistake of underestimating their enemy.
“Anyway, I drugged this one just enough to immobilize him. I enjoyed seeing him helpless, with no choice but to hear all about how my dear sister-in-law discovered his treachery. Well done, by the way.” She reached out and patted Kathleen’s hand. “He was staggered to find out that the woman on the Pakhan’s arm was the one who discovered his treachery. We had a little chat, then he became acquainted with my ring. Up close and personal, you might say. Of course, Yafon was most solicitous, helping him breathe through his nose at the right time. So, alas, the bookkeeper is long gone,” she said merrily, holding her glass aloft as if in a toast, “and here I am.”
“I can’t believe you’re really here. You’ll be here from now on,” Roksana marveled aloud.
“Yes, Glazov says we get to keep you,” Kathleen chimed in.
Vladimira smiled coyly as she swirled the vodka around in the tiny, delicate glass she held between her red-tipped fingers. “Yes, I am here for as long as I am needed. I have been feeling restless of late and was considering a change of scenery, so my brother’s timing was, as always, impeccable. But as for the bookkeeper, it only proves what I’ve said all along, ladies: never underestimate the enemy. It could mean your death if you do.”