Chapter 16 – Eduard
“So snobbish! I wonder if they’re all sisters,” Marielle remarked, scrunching up her face in playful annoyance.
“Really?” I teased.
“Yes!”
I smiled.
“I wish I had an explanation sufficient enough, but I don’t. It seems common because they are all of the same circle, married to the same type of men, same ideals, and whatnot.”
It had been an hour since we got back from the Bratva event, and Marielle had lit up again after her shower. She was clearly still tired but not too tired to stop talking about the women at the event. I had no complaints, and I probably even indulged her; I liked how carefree she sounded.
Besides, I’d rather not talk about our intimate moment.
My dick still thrummed at the memory, and I wasn’t sure I could resist having my way with her now that we were in our bed.
The possessiveness that had overtaken me inflamed the hunger I tried to hold in since I laid my eyes on her in that dress.
I had gone wild, and I would do it again—and that was the problem.
She kept pushing my limits every time I set them.
But, right now, even if I could, I wouldn’t end the conversation.
“Men like you, you mean?”
“It was a Bratva event; most of us are in the same line of business.”
“Maybe. But all of them didn’t look like you, though. You fit right in, yet you stood out.”
Is that a compliment?
“You looked so beautiful in that dress.”
“Thanks.” She turned her head to my side. “It all seems to come naturally to you. Being a boss in your world, I mean. Were you really born into this?”
“My dad and his brothers were in it, so yeah.”
“And your mom has no issues with it?”
“I don’t think she did,” I answered. Then, I added, “She’s no longer here.”
“I’m sorry,” she uttered, her voice softer as she looked back up at the ceiling.
We were like that for a while, silently lying face-up beside each other, before I spoke again.
“Where were you when the attack happened?”
“In the study.”
From her sigh, she was probably reliving the occurrence.
“Were you scared?”
Because I had been.
“What do you think? I thought I was going to die.”
“You didn’t call me,” I pointed out, my voice lower.
“You couldn’t care less,” she answered, chuckling like it was a fact.
It made an unpleasant feeling rush through me.
But she wasn’t wrong. Although it was for my sanity, I had distanced myself from her.
“Of course, I cared.” I swallowed, correcting myself, “I do care.”
“Everyone’s safe. It’s all that matters,” she uttered.
Maybe that was really all that mattered. Not fighting so hard to keep her out. We could just be like this, no feelings, no attachments.
Why doesn’t that sound good to me?
She stretched, a soft, tired moan leaving her lips.
“This would be a good night for milk cookies if only I could wave a magic wand and a fairy would bring it from the kitchen,” she disclosed.
A slow smile crept up my lips.
“I never knew you indulged in late-night snacks. Now, it’s not a wonder you’re so voluptuous.”
“I care more about my snacks than how fat my thighs look.”
“That was a compliment. I didn’t say anything about being fat. Your body is sexy and alluring. A masterpiece,” I divulged. “You like milk cookies a lot?”
“Yes. And these homemade ones are healthier and all.” Then she lowered her voice like she was conspiring. “But I’d still pick store-bought cookies and chocolate-dipped cherries over homemade.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I just like them.”
She yawned.
“I would get those cookies from the kitchen, but you look like you’re about to fall asleep.”
“Right. Sleep beckons.” She pulled the duvet to her chin before turning to the other side. “G’night.”
I turned toward her, supporting my weight with my hand.
I dropped a kiss on her forehead.
“Night, baby,” I breathed.
Judging by the hitch in her breath, she wasn’t asleep yet.
I need to get a hold of myself. Damn!
***
Monday mornings were always busy, but this one was even busier.
There was another Bratva meeting, but this was a more tight-knit one.
Bringing Marielle with me might be more dangerous than making her stay at home; no wise Mafia boss would bring his wife because she’d have to stay outside, far away from the meeting arena.
So I tightened the security at the estate and planted more surveillance devices in the house, which only two of my men knew about.
Harry joined me as I stepped out of the warehouse, ready to leave for the meeting.
“Boss, I delivered it at the house.”
“Did she see you?”
“No, Boss. I dropped it by the bedroom door as you said. Agatha said she hadn’t come down yet.”
“Okay.”
Leonid approached.
“Boss. The car’s ready,” he informed.
“Let’s go,” I instructed.
Leonid went ahead to open the back door while Harry ran into the second car.
***
I was sitting on one of the chairs around the long rectangular table with my Bratva brothers, listening to the reports as the meeting started.
As usual, the agenda comprised border security, shipment control, and any recent attacks or partnerships.
Everything rolled smoothly.
Until Danil mentioned Lucien Navarro.
Danil Yezhov had the air of authority that we all had, but his was more contained; it made it unbelievable sometimes that he was my younger cousin.
Danil rarely got emotional about anything; his stoic face was a signature.
So, when he started talking about Lucien with glances in my direction, I knew he didn’t intend to leave any stone unturned.
“Lucien Navarro is another potential threat,” he had disclosed.
“How so?” I asked.
“He has a friend under your roof, brother.”
“Marielle has no relationship with Lucien. Not anymore.”
“Eduard, she was his lover. They can hardly be strangers to each other.”
“She was never his lover. Not even his girlfriend,” I clarified.
“Come on, brother. You know how loose these terms are to Americans.”
“She’s my wife! She was never his,” I retorted.
“I know. But they could be in touch without you even knowing. Who knows what they might be discussing?” he persisted.
“Are you hard of hearing? I just told you all the valuable information she shared with me. About his skimming off our arms deals and his money laundering in areas close to us. Didn’t I just mention all these in this meeting?”
“Yes, she gave you information that turns out to be helpful. But that doesn’t mean she’s completely loyal, either.”
“What do you mean?” I inquired, not bothering to hide the promise of harm in my voice.
“How do we know she’s not feeding him information about us? For all we know, what she told you might turn out to be untrue,” he replied.
My hand instinctively went to the side of my waist and landed on my holster as I asked, “You question me?”
“No, Eduard,” he answered, lifting both hands in surrender, making me want to shoot his little finger. “Just saying we should look in all directions.”
“Hey.”
“Easy.”
“Cool it.”
The other brothers around the table implored.
“Then look, don’t accuse. Before I shoot those fucking eyes,” I warned.
“I don’t question your judgment, bro. I was just being objective,” he explained.
I didn’t wait till the end of the meeting. I didn’t go to the warehouse, either.
I asked Leonid to drive straight back to the estate.
On the ride home, I thought over what Danil said. Not about Marielle feeding Lucien information, but about Lucien still meaning something to her.
I thought back to how she smiled up at him and touched his arm intimately at his art show when I first met her. I remembered how shocked and heartbroken she had looked when I told her about Lucien being married. He had told her things that even married men didn’t reveal to their wives.
Maybe they really did mean something to each other.
What if she told me all she did about Lucien’s secret dealings just because she was hurt?
Maybe it was not about trusting me or choosing my side. It might very well be about how pained she felt or how angry she was at him.
Or am I just watering the seeds of doubt Danil planted?
“Almost thought you were an intruder,” Marielle revealed when I walked into our bedroom.
She was on the couch, but I didn’t give her a second glance to see her face or what she was doing.
“Of course,” I heard her mutter as I went into the closet.
By the time I stepped out of the closet in casual clothes, she had left the room.
My eyes caught the purple box on the stool beside the couch she formerly occupied.
I opened it.
More than half of the wide box was gone.
She was eating it when I arrived.
And she likes it.
Taking my phone out of my joggers’ pocket, I took a picture of the name on the carton.
She apparently left angrily. Because of me.
I sat at the edge of the bed.
Would she be this sensitive to my ignoring her if she didn’t care?
I found her in the study.
“Hi.”
She looked up from her book with a raised brow before resuming her reading.
“Marielle.”
“What?” she asked, giving me a tired look that made my chest tighter than an angry yell ever could.
“I’m about to have an early dinner. Have you eaten?”
“Now you feel like talking?”
I sighed, having no response to offer. Turning around, I left the study.
Then she walked into the dining room just as Agatha served my food.
My happiness multiplied when she took her seat to my left.
“Oh, I’ll serve you,” Agatha offered as she came back out of the kitchen with water.
“I can serve myself,” Marielle insisted, smirking jokingly at Agatha.
“Did something bad happen at work?” Marielle questioned once Agatha left us.
I paused.
“You’re back early and in a kind of…mood,” she pointed out, shrugging.
“It happens like that sometimes,” I responded.
Not the full truth. Not a lie, either.
“What exactly do you do at the ‘warehouse’?” she asked, ending with air quotes.
I chuckled at her innocent humor.
“Regular warehouses are to store goods to be sold, right? Mafia warehouses are similar to those. Just more of a collaboration of sorts. The warehouse serves as the office, storehouse, meeting ground, and sometimes, detention area.”
“So what do you store? I mean, I know it’s all guns and violence in the Mafia world, but I have no idea what they buy and sell. And look at you, you’re like super rich. People don’t just get paid for shooting a few people.”
“Violence is just a part of the business by default. We engage in trades that are considered too risky for others, even governments.”
“Like hard drugs?” she inquired, amazement crossing her features.
I nodded. “Among other things.”
“Wow.”
“You don’t seem scared or repulsed,” I commented.
“Should I be? My husband is the boss of the organization, after all.”
It had to be the first time she called me her husband. It almost made me giddy.
“True. We should get you started on learning to shoot soon.”
“Wh…what? I never said I was that bold!”
Her shocked retort made me want to laugh.
“Of course, baby. I was joking,” I revealed.
“It’s hard to imagine you joking,” she dropped before asking. “Do you ever do anything for fun?”
“Yes. I play chess. I also do a bit of music whenever I have the time,” I disclosed, my tone casual.
“Chess…that’s fitting. Could a game be more boring? Two people just move plastic dolls around, no scoreboard, no fast movement, no sound. It’s depressing.”
“Nobody ever analyzed chess to me that way.”
“Your men are all like you. I’m sure they like it as much as you do.”
“Valid point.”
“Do you…like this life? I mean, if you could make a choice, if you had a chance to choose, would you still want to be a Mafia boss?”
“It’s quite hard to tell since I’ve never had much of a choice. But what I know is this: I’ve worked so hard to earn my authority and respect. I have brothers who would kill for me. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”
She nodded slowly.
“But I can want more,” I added.
“I guess. Besides, I wasn’t expecting a less profound answer from someone who plays chess for fun.”
“Baby, what do you have against chess?”
Her smile faltered a bit before it reappeared.
“I told you already. It’s boring. And depressing.”
“What do you do for fun?” I questioned.
“Hmm. I read. I’m not much of a kitchen person, but I cook just to feel better, at times. I watch movies, too. A lot.”
I knew she spent time in the study. I also knew she went to the kitchen often, although I was sure Agatha wouldn’t dare make her cook. She wouldn’t be so eager to lose her job and maybe an ear. But I had never seen Marielle watching a movie. I had never seen her in front of the TV.
“I never see you watch movies.”
“There hasn’t been the time or mood to Netflix and chill here.”
“Let’s do it tomorrow,” I suggested.
“What? You’d willingly watch a movie?”
“Yes. Do we have a date?”
“Yes,” she confirmed, smiling.
“On second thought, let’s make it Saturday. I wouldn’t have much to do at the warehouse. I should be back early.”
“Okay.”
***
Later that night, I found it difficult to fall asleep.
I’m doing it again.
I kept getting caught up with Marielle again. I was sabotaging my plan to stay away. The sound of her laughter and her face made me want to never leave her presence.
But this is dangerous.
I didn’t like the feeling that coursed through me whenever she noticed me stepping back. I needed to stop pulling her in and then pushing her away. I shouldn’t pull her in at all. That way, she’d get used to us being on different turf.
It’ll be easier for me that way.
The next morning, I left for the warehouse before she woke up.
I sent for a dress to be delivered to her later in the afternoon, just to have some form of contact with her.
When I got back, I went straight to my office until later in the night.
The days passed in the same fashion: sending her gifts I noticed she liked and barely talking to her.
But there was no denying it; she was leaving a mark on my world—a mark I was hesitant to erase.