Chapter Nineteen - Emily
We’re getting along well enough to be newlyweds, but I’m not completely at ease. Folding my jeans, I slide them into the spacious drawer of my huge walk-in closet. Willy Dee a traitor. I frown, exhaling loudly. I can’t reconcile it. But now… I’m in too deep, and I can’t resist Ryurik, no matter how hard I try. What was harder was when I got my phone back, but calls where only coming from Jackson, Milton, Brady, and Jeff. They wrongly assumed I was working from home.
When are you coming in?
How’s the Bratva case? Jackson’s having a meltdown. Did you get moved?
Yo. You good? I hope you haven’t been shot at. Call me—Brady.
Check in, Wilson. I expect you to do that. I’m going to have to wipe the databases from your phone if you don’t. Jackson.
I hated making the call to him. And there’s a chunk that doesn’t exist in my heart anymore. It’s been broken off, never to return. I could barely hold the phone to my ear I was so upset about it.
“What’s happening?”
“Sorry. I’ve been dealing with some serious issues.”
“Sorry to hear. Anything that might affect you, your safety or the case?”
“Yes and yes. My adopted mother’s in care right now, and I don’t have the headspace to be at work with her so sick. Also, I’m pregnant, and I’ve decided to take a leave of absence for a while.” I coughed. “Immediately.”
A long tense pause hung suspended in the air as Jackson spoke slowly in a type of code I recognized, but I had no way of telling him the truth because the Bratva tapped my phone.
“Okay. Well. That’s a quick turnaround, and if you need some time off it’s your prerogative. I’m going to have to see you in office of course.”
“Sure. I understand, and I’m sorry for letting you down.” I’d folded my bottom lip in, trying not to sob my heart out. Letting go of the job was like a slow ego death, and one I didn’t want.
“Don’t be sorry. You ah—come in and we can talk in person.”
That’s when Ryurik stepped into the room. “Did you resign?”
“Not exactly,” I told him, holding back tears. “I took a leave of absence. It’s going to look better and be a better transition,” I told him.
“You’re ending it. Willy Dee was dirtier and scummier than you can imagine. Sorry to burst your perfect little cop bubble.”
“And you’re going to have to prove it. I don’t believe you! You’ve taken everything from me; what next?” I punched back at him, wanting him to feel guilty for his actions, but given he’s a Bratva man, I didn’t think he would care.
“Listen,” he said carefully. “Fuck Willy Dee. Half the department is on our payroll. This is about us now. I can give you and our child you’re carrying a better life than you can. There’s no point struggling as a single parent.”
“Who said I would be struggling? We could have co-parented just fine,” I flipped back to him, surprised that he sounded angry at my alternative parenting arrangement suggestion.
A boyish smirk crossed his mouth as we sat out on the patio eating breakfast together overlooking the gardens. From outside appearances, I should have been happy, but to me, I hated being trapped in a gilded cage of horrors and lies.
“I think our current arrangement is working pretty well. We’re adjusting together.”
Recalling the conversation bothers me, but what really stuck in my head, besides the surveillance footage of Willy Dee taking money, was the lack of a phone call from Jeff. Neatly dropping my jeans in the drawer, I question his motives. Why wouldn’t he have reported when he saw me being yanked away by Ryurik? He heard him threaten me! I add a sweater into the drawer, shutting it, thinking about how different my life looks.
Being a part of the Chicago Police Department has been a part of my life for so long, and it’s crazy not to be messing around with Brady and Milton.
I’ve leveled up by marrying Ryurik, of course, and everyday life is easier. I don’t think I’ve scratched the surface of how big the place is. It’s nothing like his bland placeholder apartment in the city. No. This place is decorated with thought, and there’s something interesting to look at on both floors. There’s two guest cabins on the grounds that the security team occupy, and there’s sculptures, and paintings on the walls that spell “expensive.”
This is going to take some getting used to. I want to call my girlfriends so bad. If I can hear their voices, maybe I’ll feel normal and whole again. The door creaks open as I pick out a pair of sneakers to wear around the grounds, just to get some fresh air.
She’s an older woman, time etched on her weathered face, but she’s light on her feet with a sparkle in her eye. She moves quicker than I do, and I wonder how long she’s been working for the Utkins. “Hello, dear. Are you decent?”
“Yes, Olga, I’m good. Come in.”
“Oh good, good. I come bearing a gift for the upcoming evening.” Ryurik and his tricks. I don’t want any special gifts other than to put my old life back together and pretend this didn’t happen, but no such luck.
Olga enters with an Aubree dress that begins purple from the neck down, graduating to blue and then a lovely shade of emerald, green at its floor-length hem. Whatever event Ryurik and I are going to attend is probably high profile. Automatically dry mouth hits.
“Why do I need this dress?”
Olga smiles affectionately, patting my hand. “Don’t be afraid. There’s a gala event Ryurik wants you to attend as husband and wife. He personally picked out the dress for you.” A twinkle dances in her blue eyes as I stare at the dress, baffled by all the fanfare.
“A gala event. Are there going to be a lot of people at the event?”
Olga shrugs. “I assume so. Are you not excited? This will be your first event together. What a great thing. I never expected Ryurik to get to this place,” she remarks wistfully, touching the dress.
Curious more than I should be, I ask more questions. “Why?”
“He’s ah, an interesting character. Very devoted to the Bratva brotherhood. Never giving himself enough time to entertain a nice woman. He was born into a family that is strict with its rules, and he’s upheld them. I think he has a soft spot for you. It’s here.” Olga touches her heart as I throw her words out the window, wanting to deny it. Sure, we’ve got serious heat in the bedroom together, but outside of that, then what?
“Maybe. He’s Mafia and I’m a cop.” As much as I’m reminding her out loud, I’m reminding myself.
“That doesn’t matter when it comes to love. It can transcend things. Ryurik might be fooling you, but he’s not fooling me.” I take the dress from her, looking at the sequins on it, knowing there wouldn’t be any other time I’d wear this. Her words are sinking in as much as I want to block them out. I’m married to the guy, and I’ve made the ultimate sacrifice to save Laura’s life, so at some point, I’ll have to come to terms with what that means, living day-to-day with him.
“Right.” I spread the dress out on the bed, contemplating what shoes might be right for it.
“You should try more,” Olga adds, capturing my attention, her pushiness is grating on my nerves a little, but I’m willing to hear her out.
“Try what more?”
“Try to communicate with him. Spend time.”
Is this old woman gaslighting me? I’m under no illusions that she works for Ryurik and might even be reporting back to him what I’m saying. But there’s a small flip-flop in my stomach.
Am I in high school? Caring about if a man who kidnapped and forced me into marriage likes me? Shit. Things are worse than predicted.
Wanting to appease Olga, I reluctantly agree. “Okay. I guess it’s worth something.” A satisfied smile creeps up on her face.
“That’s all you can do, and then you can take it from there.” She leaves as I sigh, letting out a groan, staring at the dress, but finding a nice emerald, green pump. I don’t think I’ll ever have to worry about shoes again. This time, I pick a shoe with a round toe, not pointy. I learned my lesson from the charity event.
God. Even then he was hunting me, I think, slipping into the dress, happy that Ryurik pays attention to details, knowing my size and what might look best on me. I study myself in the mirror, impressed, giving myself the seal of approval.
The shoes elevate the look as I twirl around, feeling like the belle of the ball we haven’t gone to yet. I slide my feet into the pumps, complete my makeup, and smack my lips together to seal the lipstick. After splashing on a puff of perfume, I head into the living room, finding Ryurik in a charcoal suit, sexy and handsome with his hair slicked back again.
God those are eyes to swim in. And why am I nervous around him?
Ryurik grins, his face lighting up. “Let’s go.”
No compliments whatsoever. Just a “let’s go”? Irritated and a little disappointed about his lack of appreciation, even though I see it on his face, I clutch onto my small purse, tilting my head high. Maybe Olga made me believe a little in Ryurik a little too much, too quickly.
Olga doesn’t realize, I’m not the one who needs to brush up on their communication skills.