Chiara
CHIARA
D inner is delicious but it passes in an uncomfortable silence and as soon as it’s over, I’m filled with nerves. What did I walk into when I stepped off that plane nearly two hours ago?
Dmitri gets to his feet and gestures for us to follow him into a different room. While there, he pours a glass of wine each for me and my mom, and his son pours what looks like bourbon for the two of them.
My mother sits next to me on the leather sofa, while Dmitri takes a seat opposite me and Nikolai remains standing. When he hands the glass to his father, I can see a signet ring glinting on his left forefinger.
“Now, , I apologize for how confused you must be right now. I realize nothing has made sense since you stepped off that plane today,” Dmitri starts and I can do nothing but nod.
My mom places a hand on my knee, and it makes me face her. “You mentioned wanting to study further when you came back from Europe. Are you still interested in it? ”
I can’t help but frown at the direction she’s steering this. “Of course. RISD accepted me a few months ago and I’m due to start in the fall.”
Nikolai scoffs. “Rhode Island School of Design? There are better places,” he says and I glare at him.
“Well I don’t exactly have thousands of dollars laying around. I have a full ride waiting for me, and won’t have the likes of you looking down on me just because you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth.”
This seems to wipe the smirk from his face and he returns my glare just as Dmitri chuckles.
“As much as I love to hear that you have an interest in studying further, I don’t think RISD will be a good fit for you,” he says and I’m about to protest, when he holds up a hand. “My family has shares in a prestigious Academy called Willow Bridge. It’s situated in Scotland and will have everything you need to study further. Everything will be paid for, your board, lodging, whatever textbooks you may need and art supplies. All you need to do is attend from September.”
I nearly drop the wineglass I’m holding and stare at Dmitri, then back at my mom. The look on both of their faces tell me that this isn’t some elaborate hoax.
“Excuse me?!” I exclaim, eventually coming to my senses and putting the wineglass down before I throw it at someone’s face. “Are you being serious right now?”
“Why wouldn’t I be serious?” he asks as he leans back on the leather sofa, crossing one leg over the other. “You’re Annamarie’s daughter, and we both want what’s best for you. Willow Bridge is the best out there and you’ll be safe.”
“As opposed to Rhode Island?” I ask, completely confused. “What is that supposed to mean? Of course I’ll be safe there!”
I don’t understand it. RISD is one of the best, why would this Willow Bridge Academy be any better? Not only that, he, this man I had just met, wants to pay for my entire tuition when I already have a full ride?
I hear Nikolai chuckling. “You wouldn’t last a fucking day in Sergei’s territory?—”
“Nikolai, you are not helping,” Dmitri says in an honest to God growl and my eyes widen at the silent conversation that seems to be happening between them. Nikolai backs off with a sigh and finishes his drink in one swig.
My mother places her hand on my thigh and when I turn to look at her, she shakes her head.
“Why don’t I speak with in private, Amore ,” she says, then she gets to her feet and pulls me up with her.
I’m about to protest when she shoots me a look that shuts me up immediately, then she pulls me out of the room by my arm. Deciding to just let her lead me, I seethe quietly and wait for her to explain what the hell is going on.
We make our way up a flight of stairs and what feels like an eternity later, she opens a door and we walk inside. It’s only when I spot my luggage by the bed that I realize this must be my bedroom.
You can literally fit my London flat in this bedroom. What the hell. How has my mother gotten used to all this wealth? It feels like too much of everything and it makes no sense to me.
“This will be your bedroom, if you’d like,” she says with her back to me before she turns around. “I know you have questions?—”
“Mom, what the hell is going on? Where did you meet this man? Who is he and why … What is all this?” I ask, waving around the room to emphasize. “I don’t understand!”
I watch her, the woman I got my dark, unruly curls and green eyes from, and I see her resolve settle. A part of me knows she was worried about what I would say when I saw how she has been living. She sighs and gestures for us to sit down on the bed, and yet again, I follow her.
“,” she starts and takes my hand. “You need to keep an open mind with what I’m about to tell you, okay? You need to understand that this was the last thing I wanted, but Dmitri and I do love each other very much.”
I nod slowly. “Okay, this is freaking me out even more, but I’ll keep an open mind,” I say and give her hand a squeeze.
God, I’m scared. What the hell is my mom hiding?
“Dmitri and I met at a function for the hospital where he was one of the donors to a specific fund I was overseeing. I knew he was an important man back then, I just didn’t realize how powerful he actually was. When I found out later on that he was Pakhan of the Bratva and I tried to call it off between us, he gave me the space I needed to come to terms with everything. He didn’t push me at all, and after a while I realized that despite knowing what and who he was, that I still loved him.”
I frown at her words. “I don’t understand?—”
“Dmitri is a powerful man, . A powerful man many would love to see brought down by any means possible. It’s the main reason he wants to send you to a school where he knows you’d be safe from those who want to do him harm. They all know that he’s married to me and will definitely try to get to him by using you.”
The urgency in her voice does nothing to quell my worry, but nothing she’s saying is making sense to me. Dmitri is a powerful man? Wait, what did she say he was, a Pakhan? What the hell is that, anyway?
“Mom, what exactly are you trying to tell me? What makes him so powerful that people would use someone like me?”
“Not someone like you; his step-daughter,” she explains, then she places her hands on my shoulders. “ … Dmitri is a Pakhan?—”
“Yes, you’ve said that but I have no idea what that is!” I interject, getting completely annoyed with her being so vague. What could possibly be so bad that she can’t spit out what’s going on?
She bites her bottom lip again, then she breathes out a sigh of resignation. “He’s the head of the Russian Mafia, .”