16. Sierra
SIXTEEN
Sierra
“Why won’t you tell me who we’re meeting?” I ask Konstantin, adjusting my new shoes. The insoles help, but I’m glad we’re going to a restaurant and not intending to walk along the Grand Park.
Konstantin shakes his head. “Because it makes no difference. He’s an… acquaintance. He insisted on this, and he’s eccentric enough that I couldn’t refuse.”
The car pulls up in front of a hotel. I recognize it from all the high culture magazines my mother used to read. There’s a restaurant on the top floor, with a balcony that looks out across the city. I’ve never been, and while I should be excited, I can’t shake the nerves. Am I going to meet the reason the men have been so cagey lately?
“That sounds so mob-like. Is he old-school?” I try to press, wanting more information. If Konstantin had given me a name ahead of time, I’d have been able to do some digging, but of course he’s been tight-lipped about it—probably for that reason.
Sometimes, it’s irritating to be predictable.
At least I’d gotten some practice at being nice and sociable. Maybe Nikolai’s dad was an easy target, with his open misogyny and lecherous nature, but I’d felt good getting even a small bit of information from him. I can do this.
The driver hops out to open the door for us. As soon as we’re both out, Konstantin puts his arm around my waist and leads me inside. The elevator ride is quiet, and I think about who we could possibly be meeting.
One of his Russian mob friends. Some family member, also mob connected. One of my father’s old allies. Victor Corvi, for all I know.
I don’t expect a young man in his early thirties with light brown hair, dressed in a nice suit. Next to him is a woman who is the same height as him. Her features are rounder, and her dress is surprisingly modest. I’m jealous, actually, because while I look fabulous in my dress, it’s also cut low enough that my brand peeks out.
I don’t think for a second that it wasn’t an intentional choice on Konstantin’s part.
“Yo! Konstantin!” the man greets. “Can I call you that? I was thinking about it, and Voronkov is so formal, and isn’t your dad in the game too?”
Konstantin tenses, but he answers, “That’s fine… Giulio.”
Giulio. The name nags at me, but I can’t place it. It’s not all that common, and I’m positive I’ve heard it. I stare at him, hoping to recognize something.
All I notice is that he’s wearing leather sandals, which are so out of place with that suit.
Giulio smiles brightly. “Great! And this is my wife, Vanessa.” He turns his attention to me. “And who’s this?”
“Sierra,” I say, purposely leaving out my last name. Chances are, he already knows if he knows anything about Konstantin, but there’s no sense in dropping the information to someone who, as Giulio had said, is in the game .
Vanessa smiles warmly at me. “Hi, Sierra. It’s nice to meet you.”
She seems sincere, which is strange. The only other woman I’ve met in this world is Lucia Bellini, and she’d been hard and cold. I can’t imagine a smile like this on Lucia’s face.
“Did you know it takes like two years to get a reservation to this place?” Giulio asks. “It better be worth it. If the shrimp is barely defrosted, I’m going to have to riot.”
“Please don’t,” Vanessa says.
Konstantin looks confused though. “Two years? How did you manage to get a reservation, then?”
“Oh, Damien already had it booked. It was going to be a whole celebratory dinner, blah blah blah, but what’s the point of going out to celebrate if you could be staying in to celebrate?—”
Vanessa blushes and shakes her head. “Please stop, Giulio.” She glances toward the host. “I think our table is ready.”
The host smiles at us. “Right this way,” he says, leading us through the restaurant.
It’s every bit as beautiful and ostentatious as I’d thought it would be. Light shimmers through the chandeliers, casting reflections on the dark wood paneling of the walls and the bar. I follow along, feeling more awkward because of the mark of ownership on my chest and the double date with another mobster than the surroundings.
The host brings us to an intimate table for four, and I can’t help but cynically think that for the cost of the place, they could’ve made it a little bigger.
I find myself sitting across from Vanessa, and I don’t miss the way her gaze briefly flits to the brand on my chest before she looks back to my face and offers another warm, sympathetic smile.
I wonder what kind of marks she has.
I open the menu and realize there’s barely a point. It’s a prix-fixe five course meal, and I have two choices for each course.
Giulio lets out a laugh. “Oh, man. We should have brought everybody after all. Mama, look, not a single dish is meat and potatoes.”
Vanessa smiles indulgently at him. “Just because you enjoy torturing Sl— Ryan doesn’t mean you should bring him to places like this. You know how uncomfortable he’d be.”
I wonder about the near-slip, about who they’re talking about. I wish I’d eavesdropped more on my father in his dealings so I wouldn’t be so woefully ignorant going into this.
Why does the name Giulio sound so familiar, though?
Konstantin lets out a soft huff. “It looks good.” He sets the menu down and glances at Giulio. “I’ve heard you like food.”
Giulio bursts out laughing. “Who told you that? It’s true. I’m one of the low, low percentage of humans who enjoys food.”
Vanessa elbows Giulio in the side, but he doesn’t stop laughing.
“So you’re a foodie?” I ask, hoping to distract from Konstantin’s awkward question.
Giulio shrugs. “I guess so. I have extremely high standards when it comes to food.” He peers at me, and after a beat, he adds, “That’s why I cook with my daughter. So she learns how to make it right. You should try it too, when you have kids.”
My heart leaps into my throat, and I fight the urge to glare at Konstantin. Did he tell this supposed business associate that I’m pregnant? It seems like a weird thing to say otherwise.
Hell, it feels like a weird thing to say anyway.
“Yeah,” I say unenthusiastically. “I’ll make sure to make my…” I stumble over the words, and it’s all I can do not to make an idiot of myself.
I may have told the shoe clerk I was pregnant, but that was different. That had been my choice—as much as a blunder can be a choice, anyway.
“Pandora is two ,” Vanessa says, exasperated. “You aren’t doing any cooking ‘with’ her.”
“Okay, I’m cooking at her,” Giulio corrects, laughing. “She likes stirring the pot!”
Konstantin clears his throat. “You cook? You don’t hire a chef?”
Vanessa shakes her head. “Not usually, no. One of my other… staff is usually around.” She casts an amused look at Giulio, but I don’t understand the joke.
Maybe I’m too busy reeling at the overly prescient nature of Giulio’s comment to put pieces together.
The conversation is weirdly informal. I’d expected coded meanings and secret glances, something to justify Konstantin dragging me here. But our food arrives, and Giulio compliments the cooking, and Konstantin starts telling us about traditional Russian dishes.
Vanessa must notice that I’m staying quiet, because she smiles in my direction. “What do you do? Are you in college?”
I nod. “I’m in my last year. Last semester, actually.” I smile back at her. “I’m looking forward to being done, though.”
“What are you planning on doing when you graduate?” she asks.
The question is innocent enough, but it makes me grimace. “I don’t know yet. I’m…” I glance at Giulio, who’s still talking animatedly with Konstantin. “I’m pregnant,” I confess. “I don’t know what I’m doing with pretty much anything right now.”
Her expression turns thoughtful. “One thing I’ve learned about being a mother is that having children doesn’t mean your life is over.”
“I should hope not,” I tell her with a nervous laugh. “There’s a lot I still want to do.”
“And there’s a lot you can do,” she says.
I look at her, really look at her, and I realize she’s about my age. “How many kids do you have?”
“Three,” Vanessa replies. “Pandora, Ares, and Kratos. The boys are twins.” I try to fight a grin, but she sees the amusement and rolls her eyes. “Giulio named them.”
“If that’s what men think children need to be named, I’m not letting Kotya name mine,” I say.
“To be fair, I was drugged to the gills at the time,” she says dryly. “By the time I was coherent, it was too late.”
“Better than boring names like Sean or William ,” Giulio interrupts.
All of my amusement vanishes, and my stomach lurches. How much research has he done on me? How much has Konstantin told him?
I look sharply at Konstantin, unable to keep myself from giving him an accusing look.
He seems as shocked as I am. “Pavone…”
Pavone.
Giulio Pavone .
I freeze.
Giulio laughs. “What? It’s true. And please, call me Giulio. We’re friends now, remember?” He rests his chin on his hand. “I heard you got into it with Silvano recently, by the way. I can’t decide who to back if it comes to it, but…” Giulio winks at me. “Family’s messy, isn’t it?”
Giulio fucking Pavone.
I know that name, and I curse myself for not having picked up on it earlier.
Why the hell are Konstantin and I having a double date with a sex trafficker?
“Yeah. Complicated,” I say, knowing my voice has gone icy but unable to contain my disgust. “Excuse me.” I get up abruptly, regretting it instantly as waves of nausea spill over me, but I can’t stay here. I can’t look at him. I can’t deal with the knowledge clicking into place with everyone’s strange behavior.
I hurry off before anyone can stop me, heading straight for the bathroom.
I’m barely in a stall before I’m throwing up, the fancy door still open behind me as everything I’d eaten comes back up.
“Sierra?” a female voice says from behind me.
God, fuck. Why?
“I don’t… want to talk to you,” I tell Vanessa fucking Pavone.
I wipe at my mouth before waving my hand in front of the sensor to get the toilet to flush. She steps out of the way so I can get to the marble sink, and I rinse my mouth out to try to rid the taste of the vomit.
She has the audacity to look confused as she asks, “I’m sorry about Giulio. He’s… He’s a very big child, sometimes. You have to ignore his needling.”
“His needling?” I ask with a humorless laugh. “Oh, that’s the last thing I’m worried about right now.”
Vanessa still looks bewildered. “Did I say something wrong?”
“How do you even look at him?” I say through clenched teeth. “How the fuck do you let him touch you?”
I see the realization dawning on her, and her shoulders slump as sadness overtakes her features. “Ah,” she says quietly.
“Ah?” I reply, glaring at her. “That’s all you have to say?”
“Sierra…”
I don’t reply.
After several long seconds, she goes on, “It’s complicated. As complicated as your relationship with Konstantin Voronkov is, I’d say.”
“You don’t know anything about my relationship with Konstantin,” I snap.
Her eyes are intent upon mine in the mirror as she replies, “You’re right. I don’t know anything about you, Konstantin, or your relationship.” Her voice is gentle, but that sets me more on edge. “But I can make a few guesses.” She gestures to my chest, where the brand is even more apparent than it had been.
I try to pull the straps of the dress over it, but it’s pointless. I glance around the bathroom. It’s empty except for us, but I still need to watch my words. “I’m not their slave , if that’s what you’re trying to hint at,” I hiss at her. “They don’t own me.”
She flinches. I should feel vindicated that the verbal blow had landed, but I’m bitter about it. Because she’s complicit, because there are so many things that I am complicit in, because how the fuck am I any better than she is? I’m trying to help Konstantin and the others find a missing weapons cache that they can sell to people who have every intention of using those weapons on other people.
Is ending lives really so different from destroying them?
It has to be. Violence to those in this lifestyle is different from violence to those who don’t choose it.
But is everyone they use those weapons on culpable?
“I know who he is,” I say as steadily as I can manage despite the shock and nausea still hitting me like cold water to the face. “I know what he does.”
Vanessa at least has the courtesy to look ashamed as she turns away from me. I can still see her expression in the mirror, though.
The worst part is that I don’t think her gentleness or her sadness are feigned. I think they’re genuine, and that somehow makes the whole thing worse.
“How the fuck do you do it?” I demand. “How do you let someone like that even come near you and your children?”
Vanessa’s eyes snap back to mine, and her expression goes cold. “Don’t. You can hate him for what he does, you can hate me for having to look the other way, but don’t bring our children into this.”
I want to push, to see how far I can take this before she cracks, but… This is Giulio fucking Pavone’s wife I’m talking to. Everyone knows what happened when he set his sights on destroying another mafia group.
It didn’t go well for them, considering there are none of them left.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble. “I’m just…”
“Blindsided?” she suggests.
“Konstantin called him a business associate,” I say, the words coming slowly as I start to put the pieces together. It’s not even that we’re having a date with a sex trafficker. Konstantin is doing business with him.
Yuri and Nikolai’s behavior suddenly makes a lot more sense.
Vanessa shakes her head. “I don’t know anything about their business relationship, Sierra,” she says, but the pity in her voice has me wanting to lash out at her all over again. “But I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Me too.”
We stand in silence, then she gently touches my shoulder. “As far as they know, you’re just nauseated from the pregnancy. I won’t tell them otherwise.”
“No?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Thanks, I guess. You think there’s a back way out of here?” Not that I have my phone with me to call for someone to come get me. It doesn’t matter. Right now, I’d rather walk to Silvano Cresci’s home than even look Konstantin Voronkov in the eye.
I wish I could give Konstantin the benefit of the doubt, but too many things have slotted into place for me to ignore.
I’m not pissed.
I am raging .
“I’ll give them your excuses and have Konstantin meet you in the lobby,” she offers.
“Won’t your husband be pissed?” I ask, steeling myself.
Vanessa offers a strained smile. “No. If there’s one thing he knows about, it’s pregnancy. He’ll understand.”
I highly doubt that, but I’ll take it anyway. “Look, I’m…”
She shakes her head. “No. Don’t apologize. I understand.”
I doubt that, too, but I nod anyway. “Thanks. I’ll go wait in the lobby.”
Konstantin and I are going to have one hell of a conversation when we get home.