31. Vasili
VASILI
“ A re you out of your fucking mind, son?”
My firstborn didn’t even flinch. In fact, he was so relaxed his feet were propped up. It felt like déjà vu from decades ago when my brother had kidnapped Branka.
I slammed the office door behind me, causing every fucking glass window of our home to rattle from the force of it, then made my way to the desk to take a seat.
“I’m talking to you, Nikola,” I roared, bringing my fist down onto the wood. The last wooden desk splintered into nothing thanks to my brother’s shenanigans, and at this rate, this one wouldn’t last much longer.
“I hear you,” he said calmly, reaching into his pocket. He fished out a bubblegum, the crinkle of the wrapper loud against the somber silence, grating on my nerves.
He threw the gum into his mouth and started chewing obnoxiously.
“I’m your only son. Of course you’re talking to me, Vasili,” he continued. “I’m pretty sure the whole of New Orleans heard you. Besides, what’s done is done; it’s time to move on.”
I lost my fucking temper and I was fairly certain my blood pressure was in the danger zone.
“Her father saw the fucking tape,” I bellowed.
“It was discreetly done,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You can’t see anything scandalous.”
“You’re missing the point, which is that you are fucking Dante Leone’s only daughter !” Didn’t he realize that in Dante’s book that was enough to start murdering the entire Nikolaev family?
“Hmm, I thought she was Uncle Sasha’s daughter,” he snickered, and I shot him a dark look. I loved my son, but at this moment, I’d fucking love to strangle him. “Relax, it’s not incest. She was adopted, remember?”
“Incest is the least of your worries,” I roared.
For fuck’s sake, why didn’t I get a normal son? Instead, I got a mini replica of Sasha. And that devil of my brother ended up with a saint son. What had I done in my previous life to deserve this?
Nikola leaned back in the chair and picked up the magazine next to him. It was like being taken back to the days when Sasha did the same thing to me, only to egg me on. Were the two fuckers conspiring against me?
“Put the fucking magazine down,” I gritted, barely controlling the last bit of my fury that I was prepared to unleash. My pulse throbbed and my ears rang. At this rate, a heart attack was bound to follow, and I almost wished it’d happen before Dante Leone woke up from his drug-induced sleep.
“Relax, Dad.” He waved his hand nonchalantly. “Honestly, in today’s day and age, sex tapes are everywhere.”
Please, God, give me strength not to kill my only son , I prayed silently, but my prayers were a bit too little too late. The deed was done and out in the world. The war between families—Leones, Marchettis, and Nikolaevs—was bound to start.
Maybe I would keel over and be spared. One could only hope.
“Don’t fucking tell me to relax. This is like déjà vu.” I tugged on my hair, barely holding on to my sanity and temper. “My sister stopped her partying and lunacy. I was so fucking close to saying our family is full of normal human beings?—”
“There’s nothing normal about those two,” Nikola deadpanned, then popped a bubble as if he needed to emphasize it. “Besides, Uncle Sasha and Aunt Tatiana might be unchanged, but their spouses are handling it better than you did.”
“I could strangle you right now, Nikola.”
“Let’s not start the kinky incest talk now,” he drawled.
I gave my head a subtle shake, staring him down. Much like Sasha, my son loved to bait people into reactions. The more you gave him, the more he fought back.
Letting out a deep sigh, I tried to get my anger reined in before I said, “Why didn’t you come to me if there was something between you and Skye? I could have arranged?—”
He lifted his palm and stopped me with his next words. “After the shitstorm your friends Nico and Luciano created for Matteo… No, thank you.”
“It was a simple mistake, and neither you nor Skye have a twin,” I retorted patiently. Honestly, I couldn’t fucking believe I was being compared to those two.
“Maybe, but I wasn’t risking it. This is a sure deal, and now Skye will be mine. Besides, it’s not like our families’ methods in obtaining wives are exactly Jane Austen–worthy.”
“I asked your mother to marry me.”
“More or less,” he quipped. “And let’s not forget Uncle Sasha kidnapped his bride on the day of her wedding. In the church.”
“I just can’t catch a break with all of you.
” He opened his mouth, ready to make a comment to that statement, and I shot him a dark look that told him he was on thin ice.
Nikola knew when it was best to shut the fuck up.
“Your uncle might have kidnapped a bride on her wedding day, but at least he never made a sex tape.”
He shrugged, unimpressed. “What can I say? I’m original.”
I shoved my hand through my hair, ready to rip it out right along with my sanity.
“Original,” I spat through gritted teeth. “Original would have been to go to your uncle Sasha and Dante Leone and ask to date Skye… marry her… or whatever the fuck kids do these days.”
He popped a bubble again, letting it fill the tense silence before he answered, “I asked Uncle Sasha about marrying her, and he said he’d blind me.
Dante wasn’t much better.” Then he proceeded with a somber expression and the most idiotic Italian accent I’d ever heard.
“ Look her way, boy, and I’ll cut you into little pieces and feed your body and soul to the sharks .
Honestly, I didn’t think the man was that poetic. ”
I slammed my fist against my table again, rattling it. “And you didn’t think to heed the man’s advice?”
“Obviously not, considering I look her way all the time.”
“Are you trying to start a war?” I stood up, towering over him, but nothing rattled my son. It might have to do with the fact that he was as tall and broad as me. I was proud of him, but he drove me fucking insane.
“Why? What did you hear?”
The door to my office opened and my wife, Bella, appeared, rushing to me with a soft expression. “Vasili, keep it down. I think the whole city can hear you.”
It was all I needed for my pulse to ease.
“Of course, malyshka .” I’d fucking be a rug under her feet if she asked me. But then I turned my eyes back to my replica and my molars ground before I stated through clenched teeth, “And you, Nikola… you will marry her.”
“Of course,” he drawled lazily with a victorious expression.
“Plan on getting the beating of a lifetime by your uncle though, and I sure as fuck won’t stop him,” I continued.
My wife gasped as my son and I glared at each other.
Then the little shit popped the gum again, watching me with a clear challenge in his eyes.
Who ever said having children was a joyous affair?
More like a constant state of tension, worries, and chest pains, with a sprinkle of occasional happiness.
“I find you cheating on Skye, I’ll cut your dick off myself,” I said, sitting back down. “You’ll treat that girl with reverence and worship the ground she walks on. You hear me?”
“It’s hard not to hear you.” He popped another bubble. My blood pressure spiked again, but my wife stroked my bicep, trying to soothe me. “You’re still shouting.”
Our eyes locked in a battle of wills while I recounted my son’s upbringing in my mind. Maybe I was too demanding? Or maybe not demanding enough? Where in the fuck did I go wrong?
My wife wedged herself onto my lap, causing my son to roll his eyes. Except he couldn’t possibly know it was only thanks to his mother that he had a much better life than my siblings and I had. She was what kept our family glued together.
The door to my office opened again—it was a grand central station today—and Marietta strolled in theatrically.
Fucking lovely. I’d never survive these two together.
It would seem her drunkenness had worn off and she was back to being perky and fresh, dressed in her favorite designer clothes. Physically, our daughter was a replica of my wife, but character-wise, she was just like my sister. God fucking help me.
I’d never prayed as much as I had today.
Marietta flunked herself next to her brother and winked. “I hear you got yourself into some serious fucking shit, brat ?”
“Marietta! Language, please,” Bella scolded.
Marietta rolled her eyes. “We are a family of mobsters who kill people, but you’re worried about my vocabulary. Lovely.”
Nikola patted her on the head affectionately. “Right you are, sestra , but don’t add fucking fuel to the fire. You know if you say bad words, I’ll be to blame.”
She waved her hand. “I did learn most of them from you.”
I glared at my son while he shot her an exasperated look. “If this is you helping, please don’t.”
“Nikola,” I gritted.
“Yes?”
“Put a fucking shirt on,” I thundered.
Bella patted my hand, hoping to calm me down, as she asked, “What’s with that, Nikola? Do we need to order you?—”
Marietta cut her off. “He goes around shirtless because of Skye.”
What. The. Actual. Fuck?
“I’m sure there is some sense in that statement somewhere, but I don’t see it,” I muttered.
Bella sighed. “It must mean we’re getting old.”
“You two are old.” Marietta waved her hand as if she didn’t just insult us. “Skye made an offhand comment a few years ago that she prefers men in suits or no shirt at all. Nikola opted for the no-shirt option.”
“You’re a pain in my fucking ass,” Nikola hissed.
“But you love me.”
“God help me,” I grumbled, tempted to tell them they were both a major pain in the ass, but I was too tired. “I love you both and I’d kill for you both, but some days I’m tempted to strangle you myself.”
“Speaking of, I’m bored. Want me to help you kill someone?” Marietta reached up to her neck, clutching her pearls. “Not our parents, of course.”
Bella and I shared a look before shooting her an exasperated look. “Gee, thanks.”