Chapter 62
The call with Zeno did more than I hoped it would.
It gave me the push to wipe my tears and leave, slamming the warehouse door shut for good. I throw a quick text to soldiers to have them clean up what remains of Boris’ body.
Without looking back, I head for my bike to go home.
Away from the past.
But to not forget it either.
“Are you serious?” My hiss could be heard from clear across the room, given Dimitri’s raised brows. “What do I pay you for?”
Without a goodbye, I jam my thumb against the red button to hang up and drop my cell onto my desk, wishing I owned an old-fashioned phone all to slam my anger down into it.
“Good call?” Dimitri wanders closer as I rub my face, wanting this entire nightmare over with.
Zeno and I might have had a ceasefire the other night, but it doesn’t change what he’s done—what he continues to do.
“The lawyers are fucking useless,” I all but growl, shoving away from my desk. Veles stays in her dog bed, likely sensing my agitation. “Why didn’t we replace them? They’re from Papa’s days, so they’re probably working against me.”
Dimitri pops his hip against my desk and watches me pace back and forth, walking out my frustration. Trying to anyway, but it’s an attempt as silly as trying to walk on water without a boat.
“They’re not working against you. They have no reason to not break the contract. If anything, your Papa’s wishes would be to ensure it happens.”
I grunt, spinning on my heel. “Stop being logical, it’s annoying. Apparently, the contract is beyond airtight. I don’t get how this highly trained duo can’t write me out of a damn document without giving up my organization. They’ve been in contact with Zeno’s team, trying to come to a middle ground. Something about a percentage of profits in exchange for divorce.”
A percentage of my motherfucking business. My hard work will get gifted to that asshole all because he faked my signature, which apparently there’s no way to actually prove. What I don’t get, is if they can’t prove I didn’t sign it, how can they prove I did? The lawyers are recommending I settle for giving away a “measly”—their words—ten percent, which is ten too much for my liking. It’s all or nothing. Papa would roll over in his grave if he knew the Cosa Nostra was profiting from us.
Dimitri’s expression pinches. “At this point, wouldn’t it be easier to let it go? Be married, live separate lives.”
He didn’t honestly just say— “You’re as crazy as they are.” I gesture to my cell lying upside down on my desk, indicating the lawyers. “You know why I can’t be married.”
“Why’s that?” He crosses his arms, brows lifting with his question. “You’ve known since taking your father’s place that one day you’ll need an heir, which means making a match. Isn’t Mancini the most convenient option?”
“Mancini will never be an option.” Venom drips from my words. “In case you’ve already forgotten, he tricked me. Snuck his way into my life to kill me, kidnapped me, and then forcibly joined me to him. He’s, like, the last option. If all men were gone, he still wouldn’t be my choice.”
Dimitri presses his lips together before conceding with a small shrug. “Alright.”
“Besides, wasn’t it you who wanted to continue battling with them? What happened to that Dimitri?”
Dimitri follows me as I retake my seat behind my desk, needing to return to work if only to distract myself. It’s easier to compartmentalize my emotions and tasks until needing to face them again. The Zeno issue is an ongoing concern that, until my lawyers find me a way out, is a matter for another day.
“Until I saw how useful they could be, and how impossible this is for you.” He turns, dropping into one of the chairs across from me. “And how you’ve been different since returning from Rome.”
God, he sounds like Anastasia.
“I’m not.”
I flip open my laptop and click on the first email, one I tried to read before my lawyers called. It’s from a distributor who invented a new psychedelic drug and is offering us to be the first to sell it on the streets.
“And how,” Dimitri continues, ignoring my point, “every time someone mentions him, you shut down.”
“I don’t.”
I click reply to the email.
“You do. How you continue to hide from your emotions.”
I don’t. “What’s the update on your father?”
He sighs. “You’re making my point. You’ve barely said anything in the past two days.”
Two days since I erased Boris from this planet. Two days since returning home, dressed in blood like I was the main actress in the movie Carrie . No one asked how it went, or anything stupid like that. They knew. They understood. They let it go.
I’ll never forget what he did to me, but like Zeno said, I should now focus on the future. And my future is ending this pointless union.
“Been busy,” I bite out while typing my response to the distributor.
“Don’t hide from your feelings.”
“I’m not. I felt that day more than any other time. Emptiness. Victory. Viciousness. Pick one. I blanked out for most of it, to be honest. The zasranets is gone and that’s all there is to it. Besides, I did talk about it. To Zeno.”
“To Zeno.” Dimitri leans closer. “You called the man you don’t wish to stay married to for emotional support after murdering your rapist. Vanessa, make me understand.”
With a huff, I drag my attention away from the computer. “There’s nothing to understand. He did me a solid by finding Agapov, so talking to him was the least I could do. He gave me some advice, that’s all. I moved on. So will he. You should too. Start by telling me about your search.”
He’s silent for a moment, which gives me time to finish typing my email. When he talks, it’s with resignation. “He’s disappeared. None of your father’s old associates have heard from him. None of our connections could find him. I have the Moscow borders watched, but until he attempts to escape, that’s useless.”
I look up again, catching the fierce determination etched into his expression. He’s been so driven to find his papa, not only for his own revenge, but so he can return to Katya. In the past month since Zeno’s attack, he’s only slipped away once, and only for a day, minus the travel.
“Hm.” I rock back in my chair, staring at my cousin while considering the issue with his father when a possible answer hits. One I hate I never thought about before. “What if he’s not in Russia?”
Dimitri blinks. “What?”
“Think about it. Papa made deals with the Vitales to get a leg up on the Mancinis. The same capo was hiding Boris. Ivan would obviously know about him too, so what if he reached out? Seems Vitale has this weird interest in working with Bratva members. He might have escaped before you stationed people at the border.”
“Shit.” Dimitri leans back, his eyes flicking to the corner of the room. “It makes sense. We’ll need to get through to Vitale. I’m getting the sense he won’t play nice.”
“Or he will. He seems like someone who’ll always take the higher price, which means whatever Ivan offered him, we offer more.”
“Would Zeno help facilitate this?”
Fuck that. “He’s done enough. I can take it from here.” I jot a quick note on the pad permanently affixed to my desk’s surface. “I’ll see if I can find a way to him.”
Dimitri stands, lifting his palms in a conceding action. “Fair enough. I’ll leave you be.” He makes it to the door before stopping and glancing over his shoulder. “You’re lucky you’ll never love your husband.”
“Why’s that?”
“Love makes you vulnerable. Makes it hurt. I love Katya too much to let her go, but I love her enough to honour her request to remain in the past. Which is why I slink through her present among the shadows. I love her enough to watch her design her own happy ending, on her terms, and away from everything this life brings with it. Even if it means watching her with other men, while I love her too much to move on myself. That’s why you’re lucky, Vanessa. It’ll never hurt for you.”
The door shuts behind him, the soft click echoing around the empty room—and my hollow heart.
He’s right. Love does make a person vulnerable, but not in the ways he described.
Love leaves a person vulnerable to others’ control. By mingling one another’s lives, it allows the other to slip into the empty places. But those places were empty for so long before their poison seeps between the edges and pushes the person out, until they’re on the outside of their own life, watching what they had pass by them.
Dimitri’s also right in the ways I’m lucky. I’ll never give myself to another, so no one will have that opening. I’ll never bow to another. Never be a pretty decoration for a man. Even if I entertained Dimitri’s suggestion and gave up trying to end the contract, there will be a time when Zeno will act on his words and try to take my organization for himself.
I didn’t work this hard to hand it to him.
It’s been two days since I’ve spoken to him, and I’ve promised myself it’ll be the final time. Except every night before bed when I do a final check of any important notifications, I find myself staring at his name in the recent calls page.
Not with disdain either, but rather, a wave of memories. One of our run around his property, and the things we talked about. When I ran from him and he was on top of me and kissed?—
“Stop,” I whisper aloud, pushing away from the desk again, this time remaining by the window. The forest around us stretches far, the sun caressing the treetops. It’s the same sun that shone down on us when we kissed. When I let myself go, falling into the sensations that Zeno creates. The sun in which Zeno eclipsed, ensuring he was all I saw.
Fuck. This is why my lawyers need to find an end to this. So this link will shatter between us and I’ll get my mind back. I’ll be able to focus and stop thinking about him. Stop spending energy wondering what he’s doing at any given time of the day.
My fist thumps against the glass, my head resting on it until my breath fogs up the immediate area. With a sigh, I squeeze my eyes shut and try to push it all from my mind.
Push him from my mind.
But every day passing, it becomes more and more difficult.