Chapter 16 Lucie
SIXTEEN
LUCIE
Mina downplayed her wealth when she said her family owns a cabin by Loch Lomond. I was expecting a rustic, unassuming, one or two-bedrooms townhouse.
The cabin does have a rustic feel to it, but it’s clearly a modern structure with a wooden facade to give it a chalet vibe.
And it’s literally a ten-bedroom mansion with a massive deck terrace overlooking Loch Lomond, with a heated pool emitting vapours that’s calling my name.
I can’t wait to dip into it after our study session.
Even the threat of rain isn’t enough to deter me.
And in case it does rain too hard, each bedroom is equipped with an infra-red sauna and a jacuzzi.
Planted on a large property with a lush forest, and a perfect view of a meadow close by, it’s breathtaking.
“Can I live here forever?” I ask Mina wistfully.
“Sure. If you want to buy it from Jay and I for sixteen million.”
I whistle under my breath and she chuckles, before pulling her lower lip in between her teeth. “I come from a very powerful Indian family.” She pauses. “The Chadha’s.”
I frown. “Of New-York?”
She nods and I wistle low under my breath.
“You know my family?”
“I know of your family. Everyone does.”
They’re a powerful business family. The Chadhas own everything in New-York. The Patriarch is a real-estate mogul said to rule with an iron-fist.
“This conversation is going to need wine,” she says as she saunters to the state-of-the-art kitchen with its own wine cellar behind tall glass doors. She uncorks a bottle and pours us a glass each before she continues, sighing deeply.
“My father… Appearance is everything to him. Jay’s sexuality, it’s a problem for him. Since we were born, we’ve been promised for marriage. Obviously, Jay refused and left.”
“I’m so sorry, Mina.”
She shrugs and takes a sip. I guess I was also a bargaining chip. Dante married me off for his own gain. I never thought about it this way but weeks away have opened my eyes. I’m glad he apologised. Maybe I could ask him to do it again just so I can receive it properly this time.
Mina looks pained and I wait patiently, letting her tell me—or not—what she’s so scared of. “Jay was his heir, but with his refusal to conform, my dad cut him off. I pay for a part of his tuition and my dad lets me because I agreed to marry who he wants.”
She winces and dread falls at the pit of my stomach.
“Who?”
“The Irish mob boss’s son. We’re engaged actually.”
My jaw drops. “Shit. I’m so sorry. What about Josh?”
“Josh’s just a fling. I thought if I slept around, my fiancé would hear about it and wouldn’t want me.” She scoffs.
“But he doesn’t care,” I supply. Of course he doesn’t. Whatever the deal is with Mina’s father, it’s more important than a virgin wife.
“Not one bit.” She gulps another mouthful of wine and slumps on the couch. I take a seat next to her, legs underneath me. “That’s why I didn’t tell you. I don’t want my father or the Irish mafia getting into your business, or your cousin’s.”
“You know Dante?”
“I know of him.”
She winks.
None of my shallow friends would have ever been this considerate. She withheld information, but I fully understand why she did it. And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to help her escape the arranged marriage hanging above her head like a guillotine.
“You need me to lie for you? I’ll do it. You need me to find you a remote place to hide? I’ll do it.”
She takes my hand in hers. “Thank you, Loulou. I actually really needed this break, too. I need to find a solution, but with Jay and Benoit constantly worrying about me, it’s too hard to consider anything.”
“Do you have any ideas?”
“I negotiated to get my master’s degree first, but now, I have no intention of going back to New-York. I can’t marry him, Loulou.”
Her whole body tenses, like the very idea of marrying that man she’s engaged to is repulsive. I shuffle on the sofa and lay an arm across her shoulders, tightening my embrace in a show of support.
“I’ll do anything to help you.”
Mina gives me a tight smile but drops her head to the side of mine.
We stay like this for a while, the silence comfortable.
I already know Dante, Aleksei and Irina can’t help her.
We don’t get involved with the Irish, that’s always been a rule.
But I’m good at lying. If she needs to hide, I’ll help her.
“Make yourself at home,” Mina says after a while, getting up and guiding me to one of the guest bedrooms. “I’m going to have a bath. I’ll be back down for dinner.” She disappears up the the metal stairs leading to the second floor, an air of heaviness on her shoulders.
The room I’m staying in is cosy. Faux furs serve as curtains over the rectangle-shaped windows overlooking the Loch and the throw blanket is straight out of a commercial for Fall decor.
It even smells like pine and comfort in here.
The massive bathtub in the adjacent, open bathroom is what every woman’s dreams are made of.
Yet, it all feels a little lonely and closed off. If Mina comes down and needs a chat, I want to be there for her.
Arms full of my workbooks, my phone, and my beloved keychain I carry everywhere like an amulet, I set my study station at the large wooden table in the living room.
It looks like it’s carved out of one single tree and I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s even one from the forest on the land.
With a cup of tea in front of me, my intentions are to focus on my degree.
My phone remains silent next to me but my eyes keep straying to it as if it would chime at any moment. I blocked him for a reason.
What was it again?
Oh yes, my stalker emptied an entire building of flats. And my belly has decided that butterflies are a good response to his psycho behaviour. And he killed someone and I want to leave this type of life behind, not chase it like my next fix.
After another thirty minutes of trying and failing to concentrate, I call Irina.
She doesn’t answer. I try my dad and it goes straight to voicemail.
Same with Diane. The irrational fear that they might be dead somewhere, that I’m going to be left all alone again, resurges and I have to wipe my hands on my loose joggers.
I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth a few times, calming my overactive imagination, but only marginally.
When I panic because a person I love isn’t answering a phone call, I know it’s not about getting attention and needing to be in the centre, but sometimes my brain forgets.
I feel guilty for asking for more than people can give.
The logical side of my brain takes the back seat, though.
Because every single time, the memory of that night haunts me.
The night when I lost them and everything changed.
Mum and dad were working for Don Ventura, Dante’s father, at one of the clubs when the Bratva attacked and killed everyone on sight.
We’d been in a bloody feud for years over territory disputes and Don Ventura had refused the mediation of the Italian Cosa Nostra, the Mother Chapter.
His brother and my mum lost their lives that night, as well as countless soldiers.
The repercussions on the Russian side were just as disastrous and a peace treaty was negotiated on both sides, to avoid more lost lives.
My computer screen has turned dark in front of me, my tears flowing on my cheeks with no way to cut the outpouring of sadness and grief.
“Lucie?” a voice calls out to me and it takes me a few blinking seconds to realise it’s Mina.
She comes behind me and without a single word, she holds me tight, her chin dropping to my shoulder, cheek to my wet cheek.
My body racks with sobs. I hold onto her arms, clutching my friend to me so that she can’t leave like everyone else. She rocks us side to side, and we breathe together.
When I’m calmer, she pulls up a chair and sits next to me, never letting go of my hand.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I clear my throat. When was the last time someone asked me to talk about my feelings and actually listened? Never, I realise.
“I miss my parents,” I say then fall silent.
She doesn’t fill the space with useless words, letting me say what I need in my own time.
It opens up my heart and allow me to be sad.
She isn’t expecting a smile or pleasantness.
Throat clogged with both pain and gratitude for her quiet presence, I lift my gaze to my friend’s eyes.
They’re shining with kindness and understanding and I nod, more to myself than to her.
I give myself permission to hurt and it’s the most liberating I’ve ever felt.
“They would have loved this place. My mum was obsessed with those tiny dolphins statues from the nineties. She would have put them everywhere. It would have been awful.”
Mina smiles before shaking her head. “Now I understand why you have these hideous stickers everywhere.”
“Yeah,” I chuckle. “They’re so ugly. But they remind me of her, you know.”
“Of course. And your dad?”
“He loved her as much as a man in my world can love his arranged wife,” I tell her.
My mother was a beautiful and voluptuous woman, but most importantly, she was smart and wanted what was best for the family.
She used to say that love came in many forms, and that I was the love of her life.
“I think they were more friends and partners than lovers, but it worked for them. They showed up as a united front. That was their strength and their mistake. They died in a shootout.”
“I’m so sorry, Loulou.”
She hugs me again, in silence. It heals me more than anything I’ve ever experienced before. The quiet acceptance soothes my sorrow. The friendly touch wraps my grief in a delicate blanket, like a kid who needs to be held when they cry.
“You know,” Mina starts. “I’ve heard Japanese people do ‘forest-bathing’ to reduce stress and release painful emotions.”
“Like hug trees?”
“Kind of. It’s just being in nature and letting yourself disconnect from the world to reconnect to your senses, mindfully walking and taking your time.”
I glance behind us at the forest outside.
It’s thick and lush green, inviting despite the cold October air.
The sky is grey but not menacing, perfect for a stroll through the canopy of trees, listening to my own breath and focusing on the present moment.
With silent, green witnesses who will hold my hateful secrets, I can let myself be sad, be hurt, grieve a love I didn’t get to enjoy long enough, and long for one to last a lifetime.
“It’s a great idea, Mina. Thank you for… For… Thank you.” The smile I give her is small but it’s a real one. I’m so grateful for what she just provided. It might be small but to me, it means everything.
“I’m your friend, Lucie. I’m here for the good and the bad days.”
She disappears in the kitchen, metal pots clanking as she lays everything on the counter for our meal. “Don’t stay out too long, sun will go down soon,” she says before I walk back to my room.
Wrapped up in a red wool sweater over the thin cami and joggers I wore today, paired with a scarf and a sleeveless puff jacket, I slide my sneakers on and step outside.
The wooden stairs creak as I descend towards the gravel path leading to the main street, but instead of continuing on, I veer left. The low afternoon sun disappears behind the tall trees and I shiver as the temperature seems to drop a few degrees.
I take slow, measured steps, noticing when the ground meets my heels, arch of the foot and toes.
If I pass a tree, I let my hands glide against the rough bark.
The smell in the deep forest is earthy, damp soil mixing with the fresh plants all around me.
It’s layered, and I pause to close my eyes and inhale deeply, focusing on each distinct aroma.
Mina was right, this is exactly what I needed.
Branches split in the distance and I snap my eyes open, a shadow shifting on my right.
My limbs freeze and I wait for the boogeyman to come out from behind the trees and catch me.
I scream when a black bird takes flight just a few steps away from me.
I press a hand to my heart, willing it to slow.
My stomach is in knots. Every breath is laboured and doesn’t give me any of the oxygen I crave.
Flying up to the top branch of a nearby tree, the raven lands and croaks as if mocking me.
Laughter erupts from my chest. Of course, there are animals in the middle of a Scottish forest. I knew that.
Deciding I’ve had enough adventures and near heart attacks for a day, I turn around to take the path back to the house.
And gasp.
He’s here.
In the middle of the forest trail stands my stalker. Tall and all dressed in back, his face is covered by the same helmet that has haunted my dreams since the night of the party. He stands out against the green backdrop. His body is strong, legs slightly apart as if he’s waiting to pounce.
My breaths burst in and out, and I lick my lips, suddenly parched.
He’s not wearing any coat, his arms straining against the cotton of his dark tee-shirt, as though the cold doesn’t affect him. Fear makes me dizzy.
“How did you find me?” I ask, voice wavering.
The helmet tilts to the side. “Did you really think blocking me would stop me?”
No, I didn’t. And if I’m honest with myself, I hoped it wouldn’t. I’ve grown addicted to his presence, to the comfort he provides.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Suddenly, the sounds of the forest are loud in my ears. The buzzing of insects, the nearby stream, far away cars driving along the main road. It all comes to me then disappears around him, as if he exists only in a vacuum. My knees buckle.
I cast a glance behind him, estimating how far from the house I am.
My stalker lifts the visor of his helmet, his eyes piercing me with their intensity.
I can’t make out the colour but I revel in the shiver running along my skin at finally seeing them.
I’ve dreamt of them. In my nightmares, my mind has chosen warm familiar brown eyes.
Toma’s eyes. My stalker has the same built, and wishful thinking makes me hallucinate.
He shakes his head.
“Dont run, Ru?ica moja.”
I disobey.