Sienna
I pull on his flannel, the fabric swallowing my frame, and head to the kitchen to grab a glass of water to steady myself. The cold liquid soothes my throat, but it does nothing for the nerves clawing at me.
I killed Andrey, and I’d do it again. But convincing my cousins it was a twisted sort of self-defense, that I’m not some rogue threat to the Vasiliev name, feels like walking into a lion’s den with nothing but my truth.
Daniil stirs in the bedroom, the bed creaking, and moments later he’s behind me, his presence a heat at my back before his hands find my shoulders, grounding me.
“We need to get going,” he says, voice quiet but sharp with purpose. “Your cousins will be at Marty’s by noon. We’ll leave in an hour.”
I nod, turning to face him, his gray eyes steady, promising he’s with me. I draw strength from that, from the unspoken vow between us.
We pack quickly, Daniil stuffing a duffel with cash and a gun from the basement while I change into jeans and a sweater from my suitcase. Practical clothes that feel like armor.
The drive to Marty’s diner is tense, the winding forest roads giving way to open highway, the early morning sky streaked with gray.
Daniil’s hands grip the wheel, his jaw tight.
I watch him, the way he scans the mirrors, always alert, always ready.
My heart pounds as we pull into the diner’s gravel lot, the neon sign flickering weakly in the daylight, and I spot Roman’s black SUV parked near the entrance.
My cousins are inside, waiting. I take a deep breath, my fingers brushing Daniil’s as we step out.
The diner smells of grease and coffee, and there they are, Roman and Maksim, seated in a corner booth, their eyes locking on me with a mix of suspicion and concern.
I straighten, feeling Daniil’s hand at the small of my back, and step forward, ready to tell my story.
To fight for my place in this blood-soaked world we’ve carved together.
“Sienna.” Maksim stands as he greets me, pulling me in to kiss both cheeks. “It’s been too long.”
“It has,” I reply, my voice steadier than I feel.
Roman nods at me, then Daniil as Daniil shakes Maksim’s hand.
“I wish we could have met today under different circumstances,” Daniil says, taking a seat in the booth.
“Your father had quite an interesting story to tell,” Maksim says to me. “I have a feeling it isn’t entirely accurate, since he made the match without our knowledge or consent.”
“He feels that his age and status as your uncle means he doesn’t need your consent to choose what to do with me. Who to trade me to. Who to sell me to.” I raise an eyebrow, because I’m sure it’s not true, but I want to hear it from them.
“Sienna, we would never have approved a match with Andrey Leskov. We knew of his reputation and history with women, but weren’t in a position to do anything about it. We never thought it would bleed into our family. If you can excuse the phrasing.”
I look at Maksim, hard and unrelenting as he waits for me to weigh up his words.
“Did my father even tell you why this match was so important?” I ask, suddenly desperate to know why my dad would risk my life.
“Unfortunately, it looks like your father has fallen foul of people even worse than Andrey,” Roman says.
For some reason, I’m not surprised.
“What are you going to do to me?” I finally ask, jutting out my chin and weighing up my options as quickly as possible. I could run. They can’t kill me here with all the witnesses. I could live my life hiding in the shadows.
Daniil’s hand finds mine under the table and he twists his fingers with mine. The gesture is reassuring as new strength blooms in my chest.
“Nothing,” Maksim says. “Andrey was a parasite. He had more enemies than friends. Most of his allies have come to us, some have gone elsewhere. He had no legitimate children so there is no threat.” Maksim pauses and takes a sip of water.
“Your father on the other hand is a problem for you, and for us.”
“Why?” I ask. Not sure which answer I want to hear first.
“Now you’re a widow, he wants to marry you to someone not quite as awful as Andrey, but not all that far removed. As for us, he is a loose cannon. He is causing more trouble than he’s worth.”
“I will not comply with another match,” I state, matter of factly.
Roman grins. “We know.”
“We don’t expect you to,” Maksim adds. “We kept our distance because we thought you were safe with your father. We were wrong, and I’m sorry. Please know there is no expectation from us for you to marry at all, never mind someone you don’t want to be with.”
Roman chuckles. “Oh there’s definitely someone she wants to be with,” he says to no one in particular.
Daniil clears his throat.
“Who did the clean up?” Maksim asks Daniil. “It was extraordinary. The only reason we knew what our uncle was saying was true was because we took up the carpet and saw the blood underneath.”
“A friend. I’ll pass on your compliments.” Daniil grins. “And his number to you, if he okays it.”
Maksim nods. “It would be appreciated.” He turns back to me. “Can I ask how you did it?”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. That’s the last question I expected. “I slit his throat,” I whisper. The diner isn’t crowded but the last thing I need is for someone who has no idea of the situation to overhear me discussing how I murdered someone.
Maksim nods thoughtfully.
“She cut his throat so deeply I could see bone,” Daniil adds, with a hint of pride that should make me feel sick. But it doesn’t.
“I was warned about what he likes to do…in bed.” I keep my eyes on Maksim’s, refusing to let any shame or embarrassment creep in. “I wasn’t going to let him do that to me, or anyone else, ever again.”
Maksim nods.
Roman looks proud. “A true Vasiliev,” he says, and some of the weight I’ve been carrying since I found out who I was to marry, eases.
“So, what now?” I ask.
Maksim turns back to me. “Stay low for a couple of months, let everything settle. We’ll deal with your father but it’s unlikely you’ll see him again.”
I wait for a moment, expecting the words to have some sort of impact on me. But nothing stirs. I just feel flat, as though someone is telling me the time, or reading from a menu.
“Okay,” I finally say. “Do I need to ask your permission if I do choose to get married at some point?”
“No,” Maksim says. “But we’d appreciate an invite to this one.”
My cousins stand from the table and begin to leave, before Roman stops and turns back to me.
“Oh,” he says, “this belongs to you now.” He hands me a slip of paper with names and numbers that make no sense to me. “He’ll know what to do,” he adds, gesturing to Daniil with a nod. Then they leave and I’m left feeling adrift with confusion.
Daniil squeezes my hand again. “Are you okay?” he asks.
I want to say no. Then I realise I want to say I don’t know. Instead, I nod and simply say, “Yes.”