Chapter 9
As we drive into the city, I wonder why I lied. What the hell is wrong with me? Maybe it was the tragic way she was staring at me, so much hope in her beautiful face, her expression shifting from sadness as if she was letting in possible happiness. Now, she sits next to me, wearing tight-fitting black jeans and a flowy, bright-colored shirt that makes her look even smaller, more vulnerable, and more in need of protection.
“The East Coast is pretty gray, huh?” she says, trying to pretend she’s not nervous. Her hands are gripped together, almost like she’s praying, the anxiety evident, her foot constantly tapping.
“You get used to it,” I tell her.
“Hmm.”
I grin; I can’t help it. I don’t even turn away to hide it. She smiles at me. It’s a small moment, maybe the sort of thing most people wouldn’t even think to notice, but it’s much more significant to me. It means so much more. I’ve never genuinely smiled at a woman romantically. I’ve tried to fake it, to pretend I’m normal, but it’s never felt like this.
“I won’t get used to it, anyway,” she replies. “I can’t leave my brothers forever.”
“You’re better off away from criminals.”
“You seriously don’t understand who they truly are.”
“Let’s talk about this later,” I grunt. “Just think about your mom for now.”
She sighs, but I guess she takes my advice. We’re quiet as I cross the bridge to the city, the skyscrapers reaching high and gray and dreary. It’s like I’m seeing the city through her eyes. The closer we get, the more I must remind myself not to let my desire show. I don’t want Dad or Molly to see how badly I want her, my stepsister. Oh, hell, how have I forgotten this?
“You’ve got a brother, too,” I tell her. “Henry. He’s almost one.”
“A baby brother?” she squeaks, her voice bubbling up excitedly. She has almost manic energy, going from depressed to filled with enthusiasm. “What’s his name?”
“Henry. He’s named after my father’s father.”
“Wow! What’s he like?”
“A baby,” I chuckle. Laughing feels far easier than ever before, but I quickly stop myself. This is all getting too intimate. “He cries. He eats. He craps a lot.”
She giggles. “No, your dad.”
“Oh.” I drum my fingers on the steering wheel. “He’s a workaholic. He’s a Marine. When he retired, he started a security business. He built it into an empire. Now, he works with the government, private security, things like that.”
“My brothers have a security business, too.”
“Dad’s is the biggest in the country,” I tell her, “and it’s legitimate.”
“I wish you’d stop taking shots at my brothers.”
I grind my teeth but say nothing. We’ll just keep going in circles if I have to continue explaining that they’re criminals and deserve every goddamn thing I say about them.
“So, am I going to meet Henry, too?” Ania asks hesitantly.
“I’m not sure if he’ll be at breakfast,” I reply, “but I’m sure you will meet him soon.”
“Is it bad to get excited?”
“Not at all.”
I keep driving, thinking of the lie I told. She thinks Molly knows she’s coming. Dad texted me this morning. She doesn’t expect a thing. He followed it with a smile emoji like that’s a good thing, but I can’t stop thinking about her freaking the hell out. Is dropping this on her without warning a good idea? Not in my book.
“How long now?” she asks.
“Twenty minutes.”
“Is this elevator actually made of gold?” Ania asks as we wait in the lobby of one of my dad’s high-rise restaurants. The elevator doors gleam.
“Yeah,” I reply. “Dad’s a bit gaudy for my tastes.”
“A bit?” she says, shooting me a look.
She’s brave and shy and buzzing with nerves all at the same time. I almost reach over and put my hand over hers, but I must be strong now. I have to fight the urge to do what I want to, give in to the desire, loop my arm around her, pull her close, and tell her everything will be okay.
When the doors open, she rushes inside, almost like she’s afraid the moment will pass her by. As we ride it up, she moves from foot to foot, standing on her tiptoes.
“Wish you were wearing ballet shoes?”
She looks up at me with red cheeks. “Always.”
“I can tell how passionate you are.”
“It’s all I think about. Well, it was.”
I want to tell her I’ll build her an even bigger studio. I’ll send her to the best schools. She can forget about the Sokolovs, the West Coast, and Bratva life.
The closer we get to the top, the more I think I should warn Ania about her mother not knowing she’s going to arrive suddenly. I don’t know what the hell Dad’s thinking, and then it’s too late. The doors open, and Dad is standing right there. He is a tall, lean man with sharp eyes and a wry smile always close to his lips. Like father, like son, people say, except he smiles much more.
“Ania,” he says in his business-meeting voice. “Thanks so much for coming.”
Ania looks sideways at me as if to say, Does he think I had a choice? I shrug, not wanting Dad to realize there’s any connection between us if there is one. Dad probably notices the silent exchange but doesn’t comment on it. He’s all amped up like he gets when he’s about to close a big deal.
“Are you ready to meet your mother?” he says.
“Uh, I think so,” Ania replies.
“Well, let’s go.”
“Wait,” I say, causing them both to look at me. “Dad, before we get on with this, I need to speak to you about a job. Ania, wait here, please.”
I added the please because, hell, I don’t know why. I’ve kidnapped her, taken her across the country, and yet somehow manners seem important. Dad sighs, but when I duck my head and walk down the hallway, he has no choice except to follow.
“What’s the problem?” he says, lowering his voice. I can tell he’s impatient.
“We need to tell Molly.”
“This again?”
“Dad, stop fucking around,” I snap. “I know you want this to be exactly how you see it in your head, but?—”
From the end of the hallway, I hear Molly’s voice raised. “Oh, hello? Can I help you? I was looking for my husband.”
Then I hear Ania’s voice trembling, all the emotion bubbling up. “Uh, I think he’ll be back in a sec.”
Dad grins. “Looks like fate has chosen for us.” He claps me on the shoulder. “Don’t stress so much. This is a good day.”