“Were you able to find anything?”
Alexei glances up at me from his desk, his eyes cataloging every micro expression on my face. Born of necessity, the habit has become second nature to him. It’s just one of his talents, but I am yet to find something Alexei does not excel at. Driven by an insatiable hunger to prove his worth, he is an overachiever in all things Vory related, bearing the title of cybercriminal genius and unrivaled master of the chess board.
While his achievements are many, his sacrifices are greater. For all the years that I’ve known him, I’ve known him to be a recluse. He chooses the safety of his home over the potential exposure of his secret. Though his seclusion is hardly necessary, considering most would never suspect he is mostly deaf. He learned to read lips after he lost his hearing as a boy, and if it weren’t for Sergei making me aware, I would have never known myself. Even so, he is justified in hiding his affliction. Such an impairment is a weakness in our line of work. And though his condition makes little difference to me, Alexei does not see it that way.
Bad blood has tainted our relationship for as long as I can remember, but our duty to the Vory brotherhood obligates us to civility. As far as any of the Vor know, the only common link between us is the stars we bear on our chest. They would never suspect that we also share DNA. I find it difficult to believe it myself sometimes, but the rivalry that lives between us can only be born from blood. He has always been jealous that I had our father’s approval, and I have done well to nurture my own resentment of his freedom from Sergei. Brotherly affection has not grown with time, and especially not after the unforgivable offense I committed against him.
“Your answers are in the file,” Alexei tells me.
He wants me to leave. He would like nothing better. And perhaps, I should. It’s the easy thing to do. But each encounter only reminds me that we are not so different. Alexei would not have followed through on this favor if all hope were truly lost.
What my pride won’t allow me to admit is that I do regret the actions that severed the trust between us. Had I known how much it would hurt him, I would have reconsidered my position on the subject. Some might say it is better to be blissfully ignorant, but in our world, it is a costly luxury. If a Vor is disrespected, he must be given the opportunity to reap his vengeance. Someday, I hope that Alexei will come to see it that way too. However, today is not the day to rehash history. Today, something else weighs heavily on my mind.
“What did you discover about her mother?”
Alexei’s disposition remains flat. He could easily dismiss my questions. Already, he has granted me more than I expected, but I have a disturbing need to discuss this with someone. And regardless of the fact he hates me, I know my secret will be well kept with him.
“She died when Tanaka was twelve,” he answers. “Suicide.”
Retrieving the cigarettes from my pocket, I rap the packet against the desk. “I assumed she had left.”
“You would be a fool to believe that,” Alexei scoffs. “And you can’t smoke in here.”
I stuff the packet back into my jacket to appease him. “Perhaps. Or perhaps it was that Manuel did not put up much of a fight when I volunteered to take his daughter instead of his throat.”
Alexei’s brows draw together as he leans forward. “Tell me what this is really about so you can stop wasting my time.”
The answer gets lodged in my throat. It shouldn’t matter what happened in Tanaka’s past. The only thing that matters is what happened to my mother. Alexei is right. This is a waste of time. I reach for the file and push back from the seat.
“What purpose does she serve to you?” His question stops me, and when I look at him, a restless worry has taken root in his eyes. He has always been soft when it comes to women. The same was true with Katya. She was a whore and a liar, and Alexei could not see it for himself until I helped him along.
“What difference does it make?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t need to. His judgments dictated long ago that I’m cut from the same cloth as our father. Sergei can be vicious, and perhaps, I am like him. But the truth is I don’t know.
“She is just a girl,” I tell him. “Collateral.”
Alexei moves his attention to the chess board always present on his desk while he contemplates my answer. I have little faith he believes me, but after picking his thoughts apart against the space that he knows best, he gives me the benefit of the doubt.
“There is one detail I didn’t include in the file, if it interests you. I have been told that Mrs. Valentini wore a head scarf to hide her face.”
“And why would she do that?”
“I suppose it was because she was horribly disfigured. Or so her maid tells me.”
Upon my return to the house at midnight, I am surprised to find Nonna waiting up for me. Unconsciously, my eyes move up to the ceiling where Tanaka should be sleeping on the second floor. The first thought that comes to mind is that she has escaped. Her slimy mole of a father has come for her, and she has escaped.
“Nika, I am sorry to disturb you,” Nonna sighs. “But something is troubling me.”
“What is the problem?”
She gestures to the ceiling. “This girl, there is something wrong with her.”
“What is it?”
“I try everything.” Nonna purses her lips. “She will not eat. Picking at food like a bird all day. Very little. And sometimes, I hear her in the washroom, vomiting.”
The vein in my neck throbs, stabbing against my skin as white heat congeals my blood. I will not stand for this behavior. She may have escaped punishment under her father’s watch, but it won’t be tolerated here. If anyone is going to destroy the girl, it will be me.
“I will take care of it, Nonna.”
She reaches out to touch my arm. “Perhaps tomorrow?”
The concern on her face is sobering, but also frustrating. “Do you believe I would hurt her?”
Her mouth falls open, and she shakes her head quickly. “No, Nika. I meant no disrespect. It’s just that she startles so easily—”
I leave her in the entryway, her words affecting me in a way they shouldn’t. It is, in fact, the intention I set out with. I took possession of Tanaka with the understanding that it might eventually mean taking her life. These are the rules our Vory abide by. An eye for an eye is only fair and just. But admittedly, I did not expect Manuel’s daughter to be so innocent and pure. And with every day that passes, her exotic beauty seems to infect my mind.
Being a Vor means never showing weakness, and I’m not of the mindset to start now. Despite my confliction, my course does not deviate as I move toward her bedroom. When I open the door, she startles, just as Nonna predicted, shooting up in bed and clinging to the sheet. A sliver of moonlight falls from the curtain, bathing her in soft light, and it gives me pause. She is too beautiful to wreck herself this way, and I have the sudden urge to question the authenticity of Nonna’s words. But regardless of my uncertainties, the signs can’t be ignored. She is weak and too thin. Something I credited to her endless routines was a misconception on my part.
“Hello?” Her voice is timid and frail as she attempts to make out the shadow in her doorway. This little mafia princess is always expecting wolves at her door, and it leaves me to wonder how often she has encountered men like me before. When I flip the light switch, her sleepy eyes adjust in phases, relaxing as they move over my features.
Irritatingly enough, her sudden comfort in my presence causes my dick to stir to life. She should not be relieved when she sees me. But what’s worse is that the warmth of her feminine scent eases me too. I could think of nothing more relaxing than bathing in her scent right now. I would like to bury myself in it, fuck it, and douse my body with the fire of her skin to carry with me always.
These thoughts are dismissed the moment I realize the absurdity of them.
“Until you can show some respect for my hospitality, you are to remain in this room.”
Her brows draw together, and she pulls the sheet tight around her, obscuring her hardened nipples and white camisole from my view. “What did I do to disrespect you?”
“It’s your body you are disrespecting.” I gesture to her willowy form beneath the blankets. “I have provided you with three nourishing meals a day, and you choose to waste them or deposit the contents in the toilet?”
Her eyes widen, and her hair falls loosely around her face when she shakes her head. She is embarrassed, and she is a liar.
“I forbid you to use the gym until you can show me that you have learned to eat properly.”
“You can’t do that,” she cries out. “I’m still rehabilitating.”
Desperation claws at her features, transforming her from a sleeping beauty to a simpering child. Whatever relief existed before has now morphed into hatred. It’s better this way. She should hate me, and she should know better than to defy me.
“The doctor will come to your room to continue physical therapy, but you can forget dancing until you are healed.”
Her lip quivers, and for the first time, I think I might see real tears from her. This girl
is skilled at hiding her true emotions, but this seems to be the thing that will break her. How she can cling to something so violently troubles me deeply. It isn’t normal behavior. Certainly not for someone who was aware that she would be forced to give it up once she married. Her reaction only fills my head with more questions and doubts, but I can’t give voice to them.
I’ve established the boundaries, and I’m prepared to leave her to her sorrow, but she is not willing to let it go so easily.
“It was you,” she sneers. “Wasn’t it?”
I arch an eyebrow at her, waiting patiently to hear the crime I am accused of.
“I have gone over it so many times,” she says. “The events of that night. It’s no coincidence that you showed up to take me away the same day someone sabotaged my shoes.”
I smile at her naïvety. “That would be the easiest thing to believe, I suppose. Wouldn’t it?”
“It’s the truth,” she insists.
“Ahhh but, Nakya, the truth is I think you know who sabotaged your shoes. I had nothing to gain by doing so, and I would have taken you regardless. But I was not the one who wanted you to give up nonsensical dreams, so you could marry in the traditional way.”
Her lips slam shut, and she doesn’t say another word on the subject. But it’s just as well.
I’ve made my point.