10 #2
Alessandra could feel the tension emanating from Roman like a dark aura, and before she even realized what she was doing, her palm was resting on his strong thigh.
The touch was tentative, but when he reached under the table and placed his own hand on top of hers, she let out a deep breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Alek, who had been quiet since they entered the dining room, gave Yana a knowing grin across the table. “You enjoying your new car, Yana?”
Her eyes instantly lit up at the question. “ Da , I love it.” She threw her husband a loving look. “My sweet even got it in my favorite color.”
Vitaly nodded, gaze still lowered to his soup, although it was obvious he was enjoying her purrs of gratitude.
Alessandra didn't know anything about the Leskovs' history, but she felt that Yana was a fairly new addition to the family. Obviously, the young woman couldn’t have given birth to any of the three adult offspring, so she had to wonder what had happened to Roman's biological mother.
Since divorce was a highly unlikely scenario in any Mafia organization, she assumed the woman was dead.
Risking a glance at Roman, Alessandra noticed that his jaw was set, eyes fixed on a spot above the tall windows.
Whether his current mood was from the argument with his father or an aversion toward Yana, she couldn't tell.
He drank his whiskey, fuming silently. When she looked at his bowl, she saw that he hadn't touched his soup either.
To her relief, the main dish was beef Stroganoff served with pasta. Picking up her cutlery, she rolled pasta around her fork and ate. It was delicious, and her stomach was grateful for small mercies.
No one tried to engage her in conversation for the remainder of the evening.
???
After dinner, Alessandra excused herself to use the bathroom.
On her way back, she noticed the French doors leading to a perfectly manicured garden and decided to step outside for some fresh air.
It was the second week of July and the temperatures in Chicago had peaked at one hundred degrees two days before.
She took in the expansive garden with its limestone patio and pink rose bushes that reminded her of her parents' home.
It felt strange, being in the heart of enemy territory, surrounded by people she never thought she'd even cross paths with but was now forced to call family.
Behind her, the doors opened again, and Alek stepped out, a cigarette already hanging from his lips .
“Hiding?” he asked with a half-grin, procuring a Zippo from his jeans’ pocket and lighting his cigarette.
“Kind of,” she admitted, watching him blow out smoke.
“Can't say I blame you. Vitaly can be a dick of epic proportions, and he doesn't even have to make an effort.” He held out a hand. “Nice to officially meet you.”
She took his warm hand with a smile. “You call your father by his given name?”
Roman had done the same thing. Her own father would have never permitted his children to call him anything other than “Papà” or “Dad”.
“It's his name, no?”
“Doesn't he find it disrespectful?”
“He actually prefers it. The only one who calls him 'Dad' is my sister.”
As if being summoned, Tatyana chose that moment to walk outside and join them on the patio, her glass of chilled wine in hand.
“I had a feeling I'd find you here,” she told Alessandra with a smile. “You haven't called.”
“I didn't have much time,” she lied, unable to think of a better excuse quick enough. She hadn't really felt like socializing in her first week of being married. It was draining enough trying to adjust to her new life in a strange house with an equally strange man she now called husband.
“Right,” Tatyana said, not looking convinced.
“Leave the girl alone,” Alek intervened, blowing out another cloud of smoke. “Don't you have your girlfriends to keep you company?”
“I wasn't talking to you.” She gave him a dirty look, but her words had little bite to them. “You should go back to your date. Poor thing is having her ear chewed off by Yana. I don't know what you were thinking deciding to bring her here. You know how seriously Dad takes this stuff.”
“So what, just because she's not Russian, I can't bring her along?”
Tatyana avoided looking at Alessandra, saying more quietly, “It matters to him. You know that.”
Alek met Alessandra's eyes, apparently not as delicate with his words. “No offense, but we're still in shock that Vitaly actually went through with the wedding. He has a traditional mindset, like most men in the Bratva. Usually, it's either a Russian bride, or no bride at all.”
“None taken,” she responded with a tight smile. “I think us Italians are even more traditional than you, and I still married a Russian man. It was a shock to everyone on both sides.”
“How do you like the house?” Tatyana asked, deciding to change the subject, which Alessandra was grateful for.
“It’s nice. I love the swimming pool.”
“You swim?”
“I do. I used to spend most summers in Sicily when I was a kid. One of my aunts has a house right by the lake. It’s really beautiful.”
“I learned how to swim when I was five,” Alek said with amusement as he recalled that part of his childhood. “One day, Vitaly just threw me into the pool without warning. He said that’s how he’d learned, and I wasn’t getting any preferential treatment.”
Tatyana shook her head disapprovingly. “He did the same thing to Roman.”
Alek smirked. “But not to you.”
“You know how he is.”
“Yeah,” he said, and there was a hint of something Alessandra couldn’t determine in his voice.
“If you need help with redecorating or doing stuff around the house, let me know,” Tatyana said. “I have time on my hands.”
“Thanks,” Alessandra said with a smile. She hadn’t, in fact, discussed the house with Roman, except for that first night when he’d given her the green light to do whatever she wanted.
Her Black Amex card didn’t have a limit, but she didn’t think she could engage in spending large amounts of money without first running it by him.
Their conversation was cut short when Roman made an appearance, his tall frame nearly blocking both doors. He took in their little ad-hoc gathering, a storm brewing in those turbulent blues of his.
“We're leaving,” he announced, gesturing to Alessandra that she should get moving.
Not daring to question him, she said goodbye to Tatyana and Alek and walked inside the house when Roman moved to the side to let her pass.
He lingered outside for another minute before joining her in the foyer.
Without meeting her gaze, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the front door, not stopping by the dining room.
“Everything okay?” she asked in a quiet voice when they were alone in the car. “We didn’t say goodbye to your father.”
“Everything’s fine,” he clipped, not even sparing her a glance. The car's wheels screeched as he pulled it out of the driveway a little too aggressively.
Something had obviously happened while she’d been absent from the dinner table.
With a quiet sigh, Alessandra leaned her head against the leather seat and glanced out her window.
She didn't like that he was in such a bad mood, but she was relieved they were leaving. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to see much of her father-in-law in the future.