14. Doubt
Chapter fourteen
Doubt
Jolie remained in the kitchen, eating a small plate. The servants had come out of hiding as soon as Mally left. Food was constantly being cooked. Even as she ate breakfast, they were working on lunch. To feed and care for thirty people, there was an endless amount of work. All the servants Adrik had used were now working for Vincent like they were part of the furniture, having no say in what happens. But they must have been threatened because many of them had new bruises or worked with a limp. They wouldn’t even glance in her direction. All except for Esfir, who currently was directing the servants. She had been Helina’s caretaker, but she had also taken on the role of head of staff. Jolie didn’t question where the other head had gone. More than likely, they had been one of the many killed last night in Vincent’s takeover.
In the far-left corner of this grand kitchen, two maids were on their knees with buckets, cleaning red splatter off the wall. If Mally had made it in a few more feet, she would have been able to take this house down. Or she would have been killed.
What did Vincent do with all the bodies? The thought made it difficult to swallow, and Jolie pushed away her plate, having barely eaten .
Esfir walked by, touching her shoulder quickly, whispering, “Wait. Mr. Morozov come.”
The words bolted her. “When? Now?”
A hand was put up in warning, and Esfir looked out through the open doors to the pool area, searching for eyes. She adjusted the belt on her waist, her uniform pressed and pristine. Then she said, offhand, acting distracted while she struggled to find the correct English words. “Family. We family.”
Jolie deflated. Adrik wasn’t coming, not yet, anyway. But Esfir was giving her hope, and she latched onto it. She was part of the Morozov Mafia. She would not be forgotten. It filled her with pride, and her back straightened.
“No, mami.” Santiago, hidden by the shadow of the doorway, now came toward her with heavy footsteps. “No one’s coming for you.”
Jolie dived out of the chair when he reached for her, but he snatched her wrist, pulling her to him so his other hand could curl into her hair. She gripped his arm, screeching and struggling against him. His fingers was iron and painful. She stumbled on her feet as he dragged her, bending her over so her face was directed toward the ground, and all she could see were feet. Part of her wanted to cry, but her anger was stronger, and she ground her teeth, cursing him. She thought about how to hurt him. She could trip him, break his knee, have him cry in pain. But she was too afraid to try.
Santiago brought her to the pool deck, and people zoomed out of his way. The laughter and the conversation died away as all their attention went to the spectacle before them. Santiago stopped and lifted her up, her eyes wide as they landed on Vincent, who sat in a chair with his legs spread and a cigarette between his lips. His darkened eyes were on Santiago, but he said nothing, waiting for the reason.
“What’s your plans for the snitch?” He spoke in English so Jolie would know what this was about. She’d know justice would be coming. “This bitch sent you to prison for five years. And we all want to see her suffer.” Santiago gestured to the group around them, getting the consensus. They all nodded and added their own insults, calling her a two-faced slut.
Jolie’s brows knitted as the fear escalated, drowning any other thoughts. What would Vincent do? He’d want revenge; of course he would. She turned him in and took a plea deal, so she never once spent one day in jail. She had been the one person he trusted. But she wasn’t a teenage girl anymore. She wasn’t going to let that hurt get to her. Vincent had betrayed her first. In her eyes, they were even.
Santiago kicked her leg, and she fell to her knees with a cry. Her hands caught her, her hair falling around her. She blew a shaky breath of relief, but then a barrel pressed against the side of her head, and her whole world froze. She didn’t look up to Vincent; she stared down at the ground. No one in this crowd would help her. She wasn’t in Adrik’s family here. There was no one to protect her. She had fallen into a well full of snakes. Anyone of them willing to strike her. Jolie trembled. It was the first time she was completely and utterly exposed. She was on her own here, and something broke inside her. All the safety that Adrik had built around her, making her feel invincible, was shattered. She was falling with no parachute .
“What do you say, cousin?” Santiago pushed. “Do we punish her? Or are you going to let her live?”
Vincent blew out smoke before pressing the butt into an ashtray, slowly putting it out. Ten seconds, twenty seconds. The quiet continued as they stared at him. Santiago just fucked him, and he knew it. The devilish glint in his eye told Vincent he knew exactly what he was doing. He took the power out of Vincent’s hands. He was manipulating him to make a move. Forcing him to respond in a manner fitting for his people. As their leader, they needed to know betrayal would not be tolerated. That anyone that fucked them would be dealt with.
Vincent clenched his teeth. The more he waited, the more they would question him. He had only recently been released from prison. They didn’t know yet what he could do to someone if he wanted. They heard rumors of his cruelty, but that’s all it was to them. Nothing proven. Even with Yakov’s blood still on the carpet and ten of his men being stacked in an ice truck and sent to the family butcher, they still didn’t know if he was as dangerous as they were made to believe.
Vincent dropped his attention to Jolie. She didn’t attempt to beg. She wouldn’t. She would think him to be heartless. She would think she would deserve it. Her guilt about their situation wasn’t unknown. He believed her when she said she loved him, and having turned him in had made her distant. It’s why she hadn’t dated since he went to prison. But her internal suffering didn’t matter to his family. It wasn’t something they could see. It needed to be visible, like broken bones and blood.
Vincent stood and approached. He stopped in front of Santiago. He held out his hand, and Santi smirked as he placed the gun in his palm. But before he could step back, Vincent slapped the barrel across his face. The whole crowd flinched as Santi held his cheek, leaning over to spit blood on the concrete. Vincent hit him again on the back, and he fell hard on the floor.
Vincent dropped the gun on his fat gut. “She’s my fucking prisoner, and I get to decide what I do with her. That means not one of you fucking touch her. Or that kid.” Vincent slammed his foot into Santiago’s gut, this time more for the fact that he sent a man to her house. Santiago groaned and curled into a ball. “Try me again, Santi, and I don’t give a fuck if you are my cousin. I will put a bullet through your fucking head.”
Vincent snatched Jolie’s biceps and yanked her to her feet. She was terrified and whimpered but didn’t put up a fight as he brought her back to her room and shoved her in. He closed the door behind him, staring at her as she stumbled away, putting as much space between them as possible.
It took her a minute to understand that he just saved her. The confusion swept over her, and then relief and grief hit her as she paced and gripped her hair. He despised it. It made him feel powerless, and he was tired of such feelings. Too many years locked in a cell nearly drained him, but the only thing that kept him sane was getting out and getting everything that was owed to him.
“I can’t.” She tried to reason and voice all the thoughts that were a jumbled mess in her head. “I can’t do this.” She collapsed in a chair and held herself.
Vincent rolled his eyes and did the only thing he could think of. He provoked. “Guess I don’t get a thank you.” Jolie’s wide outrage was written all over her face. “You know, now that I think about it, you were never that thankful. ”
“What?” she bit.
“Prom?”
The memories were a waterfall drowning the panic. She blinked at him, wondering if he had done it on purpose. Jolie played his game, almost thankful. “You were an hour late, you forgot my corsage, and you didn’t order the limo like I wanted. I had to drive in your jeep, which ruined my hair.”
He held up a finger. “One, I couldn’t afford the limo because you wanted me to get a tuxedo. Which I did. Two, the corsage was dumb. But I got you a necklace. Three, I was an hour late because I helped an old lady cross the street.”
The pause before the laugh was everything. She realized the lie for what it was, and she shook her head. Vincent smirked but licked his lips to stop it. He wasn’t here for whatever the hell he was doing. Flirting with her was natural, like how one talks to a child with a soft tone. It came out without him thinking about it. He fell back into the teenager he once was, like he was home again, days away from a football game, when he wasn’t the leader of a gang, a killer, a trafficker, and a drug dealer.
When she sat back, no longer freaking out, Vincent brought them back to the present. “Many people here know what you did. Santiago, in particular, won’t let it go. So stay away from him. Maybe just stay in your room as much as possible.”
Jolie nodded, staring out her window down to the pool deck, where everyone returned to normal with music blasting. Her cats came out of hiding, meowing at her, and when they saw Vincent, they ran to him for attention, but he only nudged them with his toe. “Why don’t you hate me?” Jolie wondered .
“I did for a while,” he admitted, refusing to look at her. “But I guess I fucked you over first.”
Jolie gave a playful smile. “You guess?”
Vincent toyed with the ring on his lip. She couldn’t know how much he enjoyed that look. Or how much he missed it.
Jolie stood with her hands twisting in front of her. She pleaded. “Let us go, Vincent. Please. You don’t want to hurt us. That’s not the kind of person you are.”
The plea was pathetic but not surprising. She would believe there was something left of him that remembered how to be normal. But there was way too much blood on his hands. The first time he had to shank someone in the shower, he destroyed the boy she loved. The second time, it surrounded him with thick skin, making him numb. He’d forgotten how many deaths he’s been a part of since then. When he became part of a pack in prison, violence was the way every day began and ended. It all rolled into one.
“I need her.”
“Why?”
How could she not understand why? Didn’t she live with them? Jolie had to know what it meant. But if she was indeed a tutor and nothing more, then her ignorance would make sense. Maybe she hadn’t slept with Adrik, and he lied only to provoke him.
Why does that fucking matter? He belittled himself for the thought. It’s been five years. He was surprised she wasn’t married and had kids of her own.
“Why didn’t you visit me?” Vincent suddenly asked, and then hated himself for it.
Jolie tucked her brown hair behind her ear before she sat on the bed. “I tried. ”
That sounded like a pathetic excuse he didn’t want to hear. If she began with ‘it was too hard,’ he’d walk out this fucking door. It was ‘too hard’ to be trapped in that fucking place, not knowing what was going on with her. It was ‘too hard’ lying in bed wondering if she was crying or angry. Did she even acknowledge the fact that he had pleaded guilty simply so she wouldn’t have to testify?
Her cats jumped in her lap, and she hugged them closely. “I’d gone to the jail, and they’d denied me. Said you weren’t taking visitors, or you didn’t want to see me. I tried a dozen times. I wrote to you, but you never returned my letters.”
“I never got them.” He clenched his fists. And the reasoning behind all of that was easy to figure out. “My father intervened.”
“Just like my parents.”
Vincent stared at the floor. All the hours he spent thinking about their situation, and the whole time, she was trying to reach him. Vincent thought he kept Jolie a secret from most of his family. He was constantly hanging with other women so nothing would get back to his father. But he should have known better.
Now that question didn’t burn so heavily in the back of his head, he could answer her. “I need Helina to keep Adrik’s family at bay. They want revenge, and they are a bit bigger than my gang. Stronger. They’d destroy us in seconds. Hell, they’re trying now. But Katia protects us. She won’t let them storm this castle, because the first thing I’ll do is put that girl in front of me.”
Jolie sneered at such a declaration. “You knew you weren’t strong enough to take them on, and yet you did anyway? Why? ”
“Going after the Morozovs” — he paused, a smile overtaking his face and igniting the light in his eyes — “was a big fucking deal. You see, gangs like mine never make the kind of money mafias make. We make pennies in comparison. But I did something no one would have done. I brought down an empire. And now it’s all fucking mine. Everything!” Vincent began to pace in his excitement, a habit he picked up as a teen. Jolie would watch him as he’d go on tangents about the football games. He’d talk for an hour, and all Jolie had to do was listen and give the proper encouragement. In these moments, he didn’t want her negativity or even reality. He wanted praise.
“These fucking Russians don’t want to admit that I beat them at their own game. Even after I blew Yakov’s head off! They want to come at me now. The Morozovs had cops on their payroll, and they've taken a few of my cousins. But I can't give in. No matter what. As word gets out, there will be more blood in the streets. More people trying to come for me. But With Katia’s help, I'm untouchable. I’ll own the Mafia’s biggest fucking family.”
Jolie nodded as if she understood. But some things weren’t clear, but asking when he was riled up would only piss him off. Why did she still remember these things when it was so long ago? Fear, Jolie acknowledged. I’m still afraid of him.
“Katia will bargain for her.” Vincent turned to Jolie, finally willing to communicate. “So just keep her safe.”
Jolie dropped her head in her hands. “This doesn’t sound right, Vincent. It sounds like you’re in over your head.”
“You’ve said that to me before.” A humorous tinge in his voice caused Jolie to look up. He was smiling down at her. A normal smile, one that replicated so many in her memory.
The tension in Jolie’s face faded a little. “A few times, if I recall.”
“And when have I ever failed?”
Her brows knitted as the stress returned. “This is a little bigger than football games or cheating on tests. You’ve picked a fight with a wasp nest. I don’t know how big or how powerful they are, but if I’m right in my assumption, they’ll swallow you whole.”
Vincent sneered at her, backing away. Jolie bowed her head. The disappointment on his face wasn’t unfamiliar. “You’ve always doubted me, JoJo. Always. I don’t need another fucking person telling me I’m reaching too far. My father, my cousins, my fucking uncles. They all think I screwed us. But none of them have had the balls to do what I did. I’m gonna show them. We gonna be fucking filthy rich, and as they’re eating off fucking gold silverware, they’re gonna thank me.” Vincent went for the door, tired of looking at her. But he stalled. “Oh, they denied your boy bail. It looks like he’s stuck in there till his court date. I hear those take months.”