Chapter 23 Lev #2
A house that sits desolate and empty, uncared for—not even to sell. Anastasia has staff circle through there once in a while to ensure our father isn’t camping out, but since taking off after Vanessa’s rise to power, we’ve barely heard of him, too busy licking his wounds.
Vanessa nudges me sharply in the ribs, bringing my focus to the family as Serafina releases their mother. She steps aside to allow Zeno to tug Vanessa closer.
“Madre, meet Vanessa Volkov.”
Vanessa shuffles her feet, no sign of the unfailing Pakhan I follow existing. “Ms. Mancini…ciao.” Her Italian is not smooth.
Gabriella Mancini gestures Vanessa closer, and Zeno releases her to the older woman.
Vanessa all but trips across the room, her heels putting her easily a foot above the woman who shares many of Serafina’s physical traits.
Gabriella’s hands stop an inch from embracing Vanessa, both women mutely staring until, in an abrupt flurry of hands, she gestures to the couch.
“Sit.”
Vanessa, after an imploring glance my way, obeys Gabriella’s request. She looks out of place, sitting on the faded, blue material, her knees pressed primly together, exactly as Ursin once taught her. Her hands rest on her lap, and she stiffly waits for the other woman to begin.
Instead, Gabriella leaves Vanessa in her anxiety to look at me. “You must be the young man who’s been protecting my Sera at school.”
All except last night. “Yes, mem. Lev Petrov.”
“You have my thanks.” She glances between Vanessa and me, who still looks like she’s sitting on spikes. “Coffee? Tea?”
“We’ll be going soon, Madre,” Zeno says softly before patting Serafina’s arm. “Go pack whatever you want.”
Serafina disappears, but their mother is already in the kitchen, heating a kettle. “Nonsense. At least stay for a drink. I’d like to meet your new friends.”
With an apologetic frown at Vanessa, he grabs a chair from the kitchen table and swings it into the living room area, lowering onto it backwards. I move to lean on the couch beside Vanessa.
“Vytashchi menya otsyuda,” she hisses, begging me to get her out of here.
“Desyat' minut. Ty vyzhil i khuzhe.” Ten minutes. You’ve survived worse.
Gabriella pours boiling water into four mugs and carries two over, handing them to me and Vanessa while Zeno retrieves the others. Gabriella takes hers and lowers onto the opposite end of the couch, twisting her body to look at Vanessa. “You’ve done a lot for my family.”
Vanessa tightens her hands around the hot ceramic. “There is no level of sorry for what my papa did—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” she interrupts in a sharp tone, one used to direct others. “I said you’ve done a lot for my family. You, Signorina Volkov. Your father’s actions are the past. You weren’t around for them and hold none of the blame.”
Vanessa shudders, glancing at Zeno. “Th-thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate that, even if I disagree.”
“I’m talking about all the help you’ve given my family,” Gabriella continues, as though Vanessa hasn’t spoken.
“You made my boy a very happy man. You’ve offered my daughter a home in yours, a place where she can continue her education.
I owe you. Even your own family”—she flicks eyes up to me—“has taken mine in. And saved her life to boot.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Vanessa replies cordially with a dip of her head. “Lev was brave that day. You don’t mind she’ll be staying inside the Bratva mansion?”
Gabriella winces, leaning away. “The thought of that place—no offence—frightens me greatly, but I also understand my fears exist within my memories, not the brick that makes it up. Zeno reassures me the mansion is a much place different now.”
Vanessa breathes deeply and sips her tea.
“Very few people have access, so I guarantee Serafina’s safety.
A group of cleaners come weekly. I maintain a small force of soldiers to protect the mansion and immediate grounds.
Everyone has long sworn oaths to me, but even so, their interactions with your daughter will be far and few.
Other than them, it’s only us”—she gestures between me and her, pausing with her finger pointed at me to add—“his sister, Anastasia, and my cousin, Dimitri, who’s presently in Canada. ”
Avoiding us are the words Vanessa skips over.
In the days I’ve been with Serafina, Dimitri found Ivan with assistance from Nico Corsetti, the Boss of the Montreal mob.
Ivan’s presently imprisoned in the northern Russian mountains, leaving Dimitri to try—and fail—to get back with his ex-girlfriend, Katya, who flew home to Toronto.
Dimitri’s followed her after trying to quit the Bratva, something Vanessa refuses to accept.
Recognition sparks in the woman’s eyes. “Petrov. Anastasia Petrov, the famous ballerina, you mean? After Serafina’s initial time in your home, she spent days watching all your sister’s old performances online. She’d love to see one in person.”
That’s something Serafina never mentioned.
By pure coincidence, Anastasia has a show coming up soon.
Having sat through too many of her recitals over the years—and despising the time wasted at each one—I’ve long stopped attending.
Once watching one, I saw them all. They’re formal, which means a suit constricting my body, along with mannerisms I prefer not to pretend to have.
Serafina returns, hauling in two large bags, huffing and puffing before she drops them at her feet. “Thanks all of you for helping,” she grumbles.
Zeno inspects the pile. “You didn’t need to bring your entire room.”
“I’m not.” She tsks. “Since I’ll be far away, I wanted to make sure I had everything I could possibly want.”
Taking the opportunity to escape, I push up from the couch, chug as much of the tea as I can in one swig, and walk it to the counter.
“Thank you, Ms. Mancini. I’ll bring Serafina’s bags to the vehicle.
” Murmurs trail me out, quickly followed by distinct small steps.
“You should stay inside. Say goodbye to your mama.”
Ignoring me, she skips towards the SUV to pop the trunk, then turns to lean against the back while I load in her bags.
“Not like I’ll never see her again. Besides, I could feel the intensity from upstairs.
It’s not every day a woman meets her daughter’s half-sister, who happens to be—” She cuts herself off, but it makes me curious; I’m always so curious about her.
“You never talk about it.” Of course, she doesn’t to you. You’ve only known her for a short time.
She stares down the dirt road at some of the other homes. Zeno purchased a property close to neighbours but still with a decent patch of their own to allow for privacy. The waterfront view on the other side gleams, sunlight bouncing off the surface. The colour reminds me of Serafina’s eyes.
“Seeing her in Zeno’s room that day, I assumed it was a dream.
It might be silly to recognize someone solely based on their eyes, but damn it, I knew.
She has my eyes. His eyes. And then…” She trails off, peeking up at me from beneath full lashes.
“Promise not to say anything to anyone, especially Zeno?”
Keeping promises for her will put me on a one-way road I won’t be able to get off, yet I nod, agreeing.
“I Googled him—Ursin Volkov. Years ago. I know he’s not a good man, but I was curious.”
Curiosity can drive a person to search up another, craving those answers. I did it to her hours after she left.
“I had to put a face to the name, see if we shared any physical traits. I found a picture of Vanessa as a kid, standing beside him. Out there…I had a half-sibling I’d never be allowed to meet.
When Zeno put me face to face with Vanessa, I recognized her instantly, though to him, I played if off as if it was the first I’d learned of her.
If Z knew I researched the Volkovs, he probably would have killed me.
Plus, I didn’t want the news making it back to Madre and hurting them both. It’s a lot to learn, having a sister.”
“Sisters aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.”
Her grin rivals the water behind us in beauty. “Damn, he jokes too. Your sister is nice.”
“She’ll be thrilled to have another person to annoy.” In truth, Ana and I have shared so much throughout our lifetime, but sharing Serafina isn’t something that interests me.
She laughs, a peel that’s swept away by the light breeze and taken to people underserving of the sound. “I’m excited by the idea of Vanessa, and she makes my brother happy. She saved us—you all did. I just don’t know how to be around her.”
“She feels the same, Fina.” The disclosure might be betraying Vanessa, but Serafina needs to hear this. “Maybe staying with us in Russia will give you time to work it out.”
“Or everything will change,” she mutters in a solemn tone.
Sounds from the house has us both straightening. Zeno and Vanessa exit the house, and Serafina throws me a final look, mouthing thank you before hugging her mother goodbye.