2. Lennie
Lennie
FEbrUARY
I ’m exhausted and I haven’t even gotten out of the car yet.
“Man, when the fuck did the Morozov’s start driving a Bugatti?” my sister, Adeline asks. Her face is smushed against the window, fighting to see in the night, especially with the window’s dark tint.
Mom pulls her back but peeks around her youngest daughter, trying to see herself.
There’s a line of cars. Mercedes, Audis, Rolls Royces, and yes, the Morozov’s new Bugatti. They enter the long sweeping driveway up toward the Zimin’s front door.
We’re here to celebrate Max’s recent marriage to someone named Russet.
I watched Max pull his bride’s veil back and unmask a random stranger. A power play by Marissa who promised her daughter.
Dad doesn’t like Marissa. Nobody does. She’s some two-bit wannabe crime mistress, but as Dad says, the best threats are the ones you don’t take seriously. Hence, why the bratva tried to arrange a marriage and bring her into the fold.
She raised a middle finger and now everyone is fascinated to see what Russet is like.
It’s been roughly a month since the marriage at the beginning of the year and as far as everyone knows she’s treated like his wife rather than a spy.
I’m personally not sure I’d like to be married to Max. He’s nice, but not as friendly as his younger twin brother Roman.
But that’s why we’ve been stuffed into a town car and driven over to the Zimin’s estate. It’s tucked onto some land, in a ritzy neighborhood known for sweeping real estate that isn’t too far away from Manhattan.
I should probably mention the Akatovs also live in said neighborhood.
Not that we ever acknowledge our neighbors.
Dad and Lev Zimin grew up together and work closely. You’d think that would make us close family friends, and we are when it comes to things like this, but on a normal day. . . best to not even mention the name Zimin to my mother.
“Oh my God,” Adeline gasps, pressing her face back to the glass. “She got a face lift.”
Mom would never be caught gossiping like this in front of others, but she leans into Adeline’s side peering around.
Natalie, my older sister, rolls her eyes. She’s tall with dark brunette hair, brown eyes, and tits I’m jealous of.
She’s also a bit of the fun police.
I fall somewhere in between like any middle child. I’m not prim and proper and lethally ambitious like my genius of a sister. I’m also not as stunning and wild as Adeline.
I’m a boring introvert homebody who prefers to read rather than go to parties.
Though, it can be said with therapy, I’m trying my best to no longer spiral in a burning flame of nerves every time I go out.
Too bad my anxiety didn’t get the memo for tonight’s event.
Yelena Zimin, Lev’s wife and Mom’s nemesis, pulled out all the stops. Cars wind around the driveway, stopping before the grand front entry allowing people to get out before valet whisks away their cars.
I can tell by Nat’s twitching, she’d rather get out and walk the rest of the way, but the car slowly inches forward.
Dad is texting up front, completely oblivious to us girls. I think this is his defense mechanism, not because he doesn’t love us. It’s just that we terrify him.
I can’t blame him when Adeline shouts, “Holy shit, she actually brought the pool boy as her date!”
“Adeline,” Mom chides, pulling her back from the window with more force. She taps her nose. “Best behavior tonight.”
She points the same threatening finger at Nat.
“What?” she defends.
“No talking politics.”
“My rights as a woman are under constant threat,” Nat mutters.
We all know Mom agrees, but she can’t say it while scolding. Instead, she ignores her oldest and turns to me, waving a finger. “And you. . .”
The car remains silent as she tries to think of something.
She ends up fixing my hair, running a finger through the dark brown locks. My hair isn’t as beautiful as Nat’s or as shiny as Adeline’s. It runs down my back and Mom subtly fixes it, the locks skimming my left cheek.
Covering my scar.
I don’t think my mom even does it on purpose. It’s just the norm after almost twenty years of dealing with the facial scar.
Adeline perks up in her seat. We’re only one car away and she has a clear shot of the open front door. She leans into Mom, whispering conspiratorially, “Last year’s Givenchy.”
I know who she’s referencing without having to look out the window. Yelena.
Just like I know who must be next to her when my mother scoffs under her breath.
Yelena might annoy the shit out of her, but there’s only one person who gets this disgusted reaction from her.
Elijah Zimin.
“That boy,” she bites under her breath. “What’s he doing here?”
Nat sounds bored when she answers, but we all know she’s being careful. “It is a party celebrating his brother’s marriage.”
Mom rolls her eyes again. She hates Marissa too, so the whole affair is a triple whammy.
For the first time, Dad looks up from his phone. “Gia, you know it always does something to me when you wear that dress.”
Adeline gags, her hand fumbling with the door.
Nat agrees. “Absolutely not. No.”
“Girls!” Mom calls after them as they hop out despite not being at the front yet.
I slide to follow them, but not before I hear Mom say, “I’ve never worn this dress before, Boris, so what do you mean it does things to you?”
“Because I know you’re not wearing any underwear.”
I slam the door behind me—more scarred than I was before.
I scurry after my sisters who strut forward not caring about jumping the line.
Adeline barely acknowledges Yelena. Nat only allows a cool nod of the head in greeting.
Get fucked, Yelena.
She’s sucking up to a lady dripping in diamonds, her eyes narrowing as we pass by. Her husband is just inside the doorway and our happiness is genuine when we see him.
“Girls, lovely as always.” Lev hugs each of us.
He might be Dad’s friend, but I can admit he’s handsome. It’s the way his smile brightens his face and the cut of his shoulders in his tailored suit jacket. He’s always treated us like we're extended family; like Dad is his brother.
“Do my eyes deceive me?” Nat mock gasps. “Or is that the Roma Zimin?”
Adeline pokes his cheek while Nat teases his collar.
“All right.” Roma takes her hands, trying to shoo her away. He nods toward someone else and they swap gossip back and forth.
“Max isn’t here yet,” Lev mentions to me while my sisters continue to make fun of Roma. I smile politely but say nothing.
Mainly because I can’t.
I feel his eyes on me.
From the car, I spotted Elijah near the front door. But upon our appearance, he disappeared. Most guests, with the party going, wouldn’t think anything of it.
But I know Lev shooed his son off before we entered the front foyer.
“Is that a chocolate fountain?” Adeline cries out.
“Yes, please go somewhere else.” Roma dramatically rolls his eyes.
Adeline runs her hands through his hair in retaliation.
He ducks and I’m certain Lev is happy when my dad walks through the door. They greet each other like always, with a manly clap on the shoulder and launching right into a conversation in Russian.
With the parents nearby, we take it as our cue to scatter. I follow Adeline toward the chocolate fountain, her eyes nearly as big as her head.
“This is amazing,” she awes.
“Because sugar’s what you need.” Nat sighs, slipping her phone out to start texting.
Both my sisters text a lot. They always have something going on.
I have a reading app on my phone and that’s mainly why I’m on it. Mom would give me hell, though, if she caught me trying to read while the party’s in full swing.
There’s a low level of constant chatter and servers pass around food. We each take a flute of champagne, but I’m already wondering when we can go home.
Especially when there’s a prick on the back of my neck.
He’s here.
The one thing I always know is when Elijah Zimin enters a room.
It’s a gift I’ve had since childhood.
I’m closest in age to the twins, Max and Roma, but as a little kid, I got along better with Elijah. Max normally went off reading, and Nat and Adeline claimed Roma as their pet.
Elijah turned on the TV for us when we came over, changing the channel to whatever show I wanted, while simultaneously explaining why television was bad for us. He took me to the kitchen to steal cookies and boxed Roma’s ears if he and Nat made fun of me.
He’s five years older than me and when the age gap between little kid and teenager grew he remained kind to me.
But then the accident happened and the friendship stopped.
If only because Gia Akatov was mere seconds away from declaring World War III.
Due to business, and because Dad and Lev are such good friends, our families are still close. It means we’re constantly hovering near one another, without actually trying to come into contact.
At least on my part.
Elijah doesn’t give a shit about my mother’s anger. I’m sure in his opinion, the accident was a mere incident. There’s no merit in dwelling over it.
I sort of agree with him, though, I’d die before admitting it. I’m supposed to be angry at the person who caused a lasting physical deformity.
Nat’s got her phone in one hand, but with the other she reaches out to grab mine, gently squeezing.
It hurts my heart, but I don’t know why.
“Ads is about to fall into the chocolate fountain,” I say. Her head snaps toward our younger sister. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
I don’t have to go, but my introverted nature demands I seek shelter in the calmest place I can find.
Or at least try to.
I walk in the direction of where I think the bathroom is when a server almost rams into me.
My back hits the wall. “Sorry!”
“No guests over here!” another girl sternly says, eyes flashing.
Yelena makes her house cold on most days, but right now it’s downright hostile.