Chapter 34
EVELINA
“Da, hello?”
For a second, I don’t know how to respond. My brain is short-circuiting, unsure what I’m supposed to say after not speaking to him for a few months.
“Who is this?” he rasps.
My throat bobs.
“Papa?”
The line is quiet for a moment.
“Evelina?” he finally grunts. “Is that really you?”
Guilt washes over me.
I’m not supposed to be doing this. Not just because it would “make Roman mad”.
The decision to send our father to Moscow was a decision the entire upper leadership of the Nikitin Bratva made together.
The ban on communicating with Pavel…and yes, I freely admit that I've ignored that ban a few times…isn’t out of pettiness. It’s a mandate.
But the guilt I’m feeling doesn’t come from breaking the rules. It’s because I get why Roman hates our father so much. I wasn’t there, but I get it. And yet, for the life of me, I still can’t manage to feel the same.
“How are you doing?” I blurt. “Are you okay? Are you safe?”
“Ahh, my little princess,” he chuckles quietly. “Always so good to her Papa.”
Another twinge of guilt vibrates inside me.
“I’m okay, Evelina,” he sighs. “But… It’s hard. A lot of people here want your Papa dead.”
I shudder, squeezing my eyes shut. “I’m working on a plan to help you.”
He’s silent for a second, then he clears his throat. “Oh?”
“Yes. A way to get you home,” I blurt.
He chuckles. “Does your brother know about this?”
I wince. “Not exactly.”
Papa chuckles again. “Ahhh, that's my daughter. I knew your big heart would come through for me. So, what is this wonderful plan?”
I shake my head. “I can’t say yet. But I’m making a deal with an organization that has the power to help you and offer you protection.”
Papa tut-tuts with his teeth. “Which organization?”
My lip sucks between my teeth. “I…I can’t tell you that yet either.”
“But they can offer me protection?”
“They can get you home, Papa,” I say. “And keep you safe when you get here.”
“Why would they do that for me?”
“Just… I’m working it out, Dad. Don't worry.”
“Evelina…” he growls. “What are you doing for this to happen?”
My eyes close. “Pledging myself to them,” I say quietly.
Papa’s breath sucks in. “An arranged marriage?”
“Um…” I swallow. “Kind of.”
He mutters something I don’t quite catch in Russian.
“Is it dangerous?”
“Uh… No, it’s fine.”
He chuckles. “My Evelina. Always such a bad liar. And your brother…what does he think about this?”
My eyes close. “He...he doesn’t know this part either.”
Papa exhales slowly. “You’re doing something dangerous, against your better judgement, and without your brother’s knowledge…for me?”
“Of course, Papa,” I whisper. “You're family.”
“Ahhh, my beautiful Evelina,” he sighs. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
In the background, someone says something to him Russian that I can’t quite hear, and he sighs.
“Evelina, I’m sorry, but I need to go.”
My brow furrows. “You’re okay?”
“Da, I’ll be fine,” he grunts. “But this arrangement…when would I be able to come home and have protection?”
“Soon,” I promise. “Really soon. Just—hang in there, okay?”
“You’re a wonderful daughter, Evelina,” he sighs.
I smile wryly. “Be safe, Papa. I’ll call again soon.”
Again, it’s all perspective.
Maybe from one angle, I could be fine with the situation with Vaughn. We’re just two people who happen to be into brutally rough, sadism-tinged sex.
It’s very clear to me at this point that that’s my jam.
It’s not like I had no experience of sex before him. There was Ethan, and our make-out sessions and heavy petting.
But that never did anything for me. Not because Ethan was bad at kissing, or had fumbling, cold hands or anything. It wasn’t him at all.
It was me. I realize that now.
Ethan’s approach was romantic and sweet. He’d kiss me tenderly, and when it did escalate, it was like something straight out of Hollywood. But when he put his hands on me, it was always punctuated by him checking in.
Is this okay?
Can I touch you here?
Does that feel good?
That drove me nuts.
With Vaughn, it’s…
Well, the polar opposite.
There’s nothing tender about the way he touches me.
He doesn’t ask permission, either. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like consent isn’t important. But knowing that at least with him, there’s just one word and one word alone that would stop him is…well…
…A lot hotter than it should be.
There’s nothing romantic or sweet with him. No softness. He’s all sharp edges and hard corners. Pure violence and darkness.
And what I’ve come to understand through all this insanity is that I think I might crave that.
I want his edges. I want him unhinged and unmerciful. I want him to completely dominate and overpower me.
I don’t feel subjugated in that headspace.
I feel freer than I ever have.
But again, perspective. Because as addictive as that feeling is, and as “fine” as I tell myself I could be with our relationship remaining what it’s been so far…
That’s not true.
It’s not just that I get off on brutal, unhinged sex.
I want everything else that comes with sex, violent or otherwise.
I wish I was one of those girls who can just casually have sex and then get on with the rest of her day. But I’m not. I need more.
And the problem is, I’m not so sure that would ever happen with Vaughn… "fine, we're a we" notwithstanding.
It makes me feel trapped. Because I genuinely have no idea where else I’d ever find the same cathartic release that his brand of deranged sex brings me. I also don’t want to find it anywhere else, because like it or not, and as pathetic as it might sound…
I like him.
A lot.
More than I have any right or reason to.
Before, it was a slow trickle that I was trying to hold back. But the more time I spend with him, the faster that trickle has turned into a full-blown leak in the dam. And since he kissed me for the first time in France, and then again, at the Mercury the other night…
I don’t even know if there’s any dam left to repair. Ironically, that's why I've been trying to keep my distance.
Because right now, the only way Vaughn and I seem to connect in any meaningful way is through our unhinged sexcapades.
And I need more than that.
“Hey stranger.”
In the kitchen, I glance up from my coffee and grin when I see Roman walking in. Then my brows shoot up as I clock his appearance properly.
“Woooow,” I gasp.
Roman typically wears a jacket and dress shirt, no tie, the top button or two undone. Well, and pants.
Today, he’s in a stunning charcoal gray suit with a French-cut shirt buttoned up all the way, a matching gray silk tie, tie-clip, cufflinks, and what I think is a brand-new Rolex on his wrist.
His typical beard scruff is trimmed, and his hair is neatly slicked back.
“Rico Suave!” I giggle. “What’s the occasion?”
Roman grins, futzing with his cufflinks as he walks over to the coffee machine.
“I’ve got an important sit-down with the Sicilians today to hammer out a neutral zone between territories in Queens.”
“Yep, and the Sicilians don’t fuck around when it comes to dressing like a big swinging dick.”
Val saunters into the kitchen, dressed far more casually in black jeans and a white t-shirt.
“So I made sure our boy here was looking fine as fuck.”
He slaps Roman’s ass, grabs it, then pulls him around to kiss him against the fridge.
“Hi, yes, hello,” I groan. “Third wheel roommate right here.”
Roman blushes deeply as he pulls away from Val. Then he grins and leans back in, kissing Val again before giving his ass a squeeze.
“Sorry, Eves,” Roman chuckles. “But grownups do have sex with each other.”
Val shoots me a look, and my face throbs before I quickly look away.
“Well, you look sharp,” I mumble at my brother.
“Thanks. It’s all Val.”
“Damn right it’s all me, baby,” Val murmurs, nipping at Roman’s ear before he slides past him in search of coffee.
I chew on my lip.
I want what they have.
The sharp banter and steamy looks. The private smiles and public kisses.
The ass-grabbing. Shared cups of coffee in the morning.
For one insane moment, it makes me want to blurt it all out and tell my brother about Vaughn.
Then I decide it's the caffeine talking and I've had quite enough of it for one morning.
“Hey, speaking of roommates,” Roman frowns, “it feels like we’ve all been ships passing in the night recently.”
“There’s a ‘big wooden mast’ joke in there somewhere,” Val sighs. “Gimme a sec. I’ll get it.”
I snort, hiding my face as Roman rolls his eyes.
“Anyway,” he sighs. “What if we all got dinner together tonight?”
I shrug. “Sure. I’m free.”
Roman grins, then suddenly winces. “Ahh, shit.” He sighs. “Sorry, forgot I have a thing with Nikolai Antonov tonight.” He frowns. “Lunch?”
“Not me,” Val shakes his head. “I’ve got lunch with my dad.”
“How’s that going, anyway?” I ask. "It must be so cool to have him back."
Val nods. “It’s...going? I mean, yes, it’s fucking awesome that he’s still alive, and I'm so grateful that I get to have all these conversations with him I never thought I would. But there’s still the past. Like, I don’t remember him leaving Vaughn and I home alone for days without any food in the cupboards so he could go on a meth binge… ” He taps his temple.
“Thanks, amnesia," he grimaces. "But there are emotions that come back, you know? Sometimes, there’s a feeling of abandonment that bubbles up when I’m around him.” He rolls his eyes. “Dumb shit. I’ve been working on it with my therapist.”
I shake my head. “Not dumb. I get it.”
Roman smiles as he wraps his arms around Val’s waist and pulls him to his chest. “I’m proud of you for trying with him,” Roman says quietly.
“And I think it’s incredible that he’s putting in the effort, too.
” He shakes his head. “I can’t imagine what it’d be like to try and climb out of a hole that deep. ”
Val kisses Rome’s forehead and then turns back to me with a shrug.
“It’d be nice if Vaughn tried at all. I dunno, maybe it's because he remembers way more than I do about that time in our lives. I’ve asked him a dozen times to drop in on our lunch for even just five minutes today, but I know he won’t. It is what it is, I guess.”
Roman nods, then kisses Val’s cheek. “Proud of you, baby. Gotta run. Love you.”
“Love you too, Wreckage,” Val growls, slapping Roman’s butt.
My brother blushes adorably as he glances my way. “Love you, Evie.”
“Love ya, byeeee.”
Val and I are silent until we hear the door shut. Then he arches a brow at me.
“So? How are things?”
I roll my eyes. “You mean with your brother?”
“If we’re getting specific.”
I groan and rub my hands over my face. “Can I please take a rain check on you grilling me about Vaughn?”
“Mmm…sure. But only because I like you.”
I grin. Then I stiffen.
“Hey—what time is lunch with your dad?”
Val frowns. “Eleven-thirty. Why?”
I smile widely. “I might have a crazy idea.”
A really crazy one, possibly verging on “stupid”. But I think I may have just found a way to connect with the man I seem to be hopelessly tangled up with on a human level.