12. Irina
12
IRINA
A fter I left the building, rushing away from that hot moment I was sharing with Professor Remi, I sought out my guards. They kept their distance, but I was never lost from them. I could always locate them nearby.
“What’s going on?” I demanded of the first man I saw. They were usually around in twos, a pair. That was a standard for security details. Never alone, a backup on call and within reach.
He shrugged. “What do you mean?”
“Where’s the other?” I asked. “Peter.” I seldom referred to them by name. There was never any need to because we didn’t speak to each other. Part of their reasoning to stay back from me was to eliminate anyone thinking we were together so I could look approachable. Asking why this guard was alone didn’t fit into this urgent need to know what was going on near my brother, but it struck me as odd so I blurted the question.
“Following up on the latest incident,” he said, arching his brows as if questioning why I’d ask and make contact with him directly and also surprise that he’d answered me at all.
“The attacks near Maxim?” I shoved my hands into my coat pockets, cold and unhappy about it. Summer felt so far away with this snow falling.
He furrowed his brow. “What attacks?”
“What incident are you talking about?” I asked instead. What else was going on?
“The Ilyins.” He glanced around, as if someone were listening in. It was just the two of us out here in the cold near the building. “They’re rumored to be behind all the new drugs on campus. Spreading them and raping women.”
Again? Another piece of my heart chipped off and shriveled. I hated that my father was instigating this drug war, that he was a perpetrator and cause of any woman being abused or raped. It was all the more reason for me to kill him, to end him and his plans. It was a small part I could do to help. In the back of my mind, I knew that someone else would step into his place and do the same thing, though.
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
It was ironic that the guards could double as spies here. If they could manage that job, why did my father insist on using me here?
“I received a message that attacks were happening near my brother’s building.”
He shrugged, still looking out for anyone approaching us. “So?”
So? I wished I could hit him and get away with it. Fury lanced through me, heating me up and making me want to scream at the injustice of it all.
“I want to make sure he’s okay.” He couldn’t have received the same text I had been sent, not if he was clueless about it happening. That had to mean he hadn’t received the text that said to stay away from that area.
“No.” He narrowed his eyes. “You can’t decide when you visit him. I was told you wouldn’t be seeing him until the end of the month.”
Dammit! There was no way I could wait that long, not with news of violence near him in that crappy part of town.
“I insist,” I said coolly.
He laughed once, as if he were dealing with a pesky irritation, not a valid request. “I don’t think so.”
“Then take me to my father.”
That wouldn’t solve anything, either. He wouldn’t bend and let me visit Maxim just because I asked or demanded. But maybe he’d slip and tell me what was going on.
To my surprise, the guard agreed to arrange for my driver to come and collect me. He joined the driver in the front seat, and they discussed the possibility of Ilyin men causing trouble on campus. Causing trouble was what the Mafia did. They used power and danger and violence as tokens of business, but they had to be on top of it all in this dog-eat-dog world.
On the drive to my father’s, I tried not to panic and get sucked into too much worry about Maxim. The guard there would keep him safe. He wouldn’t let him be harmed unnecessarily.
My father rolled his eyes at me when I arrived, almost as if he’d counted on me to show up, worried.
“I don’t know why you waste your time thinking about that worthless boy.”
He’s my brother!
I bit my tongue and tried to remain patient. “Is he all right?”
He dismissed me with a wave. “Yes. He’s alive.”
Alive? That’s it? “Was he hurt?”
“No. He’s been temporarily relocated, and no, I’m not telling you where. He’s safe there.”
I crossed my arms. “You expect me to spy and snoop on those politicians while you hide him from me?”
Igor Petrov played hardball, but even he could respect when he was pushing me too hard. “He’s safe where he is. Another apartment. Near the docks.”
I gaped at him. “What? In those moldy apartments?” I knew just the ones he was talking about. They were disgusting, often used as torture cells for anyone they’d captured.
“It’ll do for now until the Ilyins stop fighting near his usual place.”
That was a clue I’d save for later. The Ilyins are behind whatever violence is going on. They were a number-one enemy and rival at the time. Since my father hadn’t succeeded in getting to the Baranovs at all, and Lev had escaped, that Family had retreated. I still saw Rurik on campus now and then, but the Baranovs had all but retreated from the drug and turf war in and around the college area. I couldn’t blame Oleg Baranov for backing out from this mess. He wasn’t stupid, and he was familiar with how my father would screw over anyone and everyone to get ahead.
Something was brewing with the Ilyins. They were rumored to be behind the recent increase of drugs and rapes on campus. This danger out in the rougher part of town… What weren’t they up to?
“Find him a better place,” I told my father. “Maxim can’t live in those conditions. Not with his risk for infections.” His difficult experience at childbirth had resulted in his being weak and immunocompromised. He’d become deaf from the strong medications and treatments they’d used on him in the NICU to keep him alive.
“He’ll live wherever I put him.”
I bit my tongue, watching my temper. I had to negotiate, not lash out. “He deserves a life. Not to be a prisoner.”
“Maybe if he weren’t such a weak waste of space,” my father argued, “he might.”
Staring at him with all the hatred my soul could contain, I vowed it again.
I’m going to kill you. I will rid the world of your evil and I will enjoy every second of killing you.
Maxim was an innocent victim. So was I. And one day, I would right those wrongs.
“Maxim isn’t a priority,” he reminded me.
Not to you. But he most certainly was to me. I was the only one rooting for him.
“ Your priority is staying on campus and doing as you're told. Find out what you can about who was raped last night. Look into James and Benson. Have something to fucking report to me for once.”
I was dismissed. Like a tool, a discarded thing , he sent me away.
All night, I couldn’t avoid worrying about my brother. This anxiety was nothing new, but the more that it gnawed on me, the worse I felt. It was a consuming, relentless beast, taking my every thought and stealing my ability to function in any other way.
If I were to lose Maxim, I would have nothing. I would have no one. He was the only source of anything good in my life, and I couldn’t stomach losing him or knowing he could suffer any further.
Because of this stress, I slept terribly. Nothing helped. Not a jog on the treadmill at the apartment’s gym. Not a snack. Not TV, even the lamest documentary I could find. Reading was a no-go as well, since I couldn’t focus enough to actually absorb a single word of what my gaze swept over. Homework preoccupied me a little bit, but it wasn’t until very late that my eyes closed and I attempted to sleep. I ended up oversleeping, setting a very lousy mood for the rest of the day.
Getting up hours late had me rushing to reach campus on time, but despite my best hurried efforts, I felt not like myself. Exhaustion nipped at me as I walked toward the building my first class was in. I didn’t stop for coffee first, which was so unlike me. I needed caffeine in the morning like a plant needed water.
Knowing I’d be seeing Professor Remi should’ve put a little extra pep in my step and encouraged me to look forward to this class, but I was too tired and stressed to let anything cut through my mood.
I arrived late, something that I loathed with a passion. Punctuality was an elemental feature of success, no matter the situation. It was especially annoying in the classroom. My time here was a joke. I wasn’t here to study for a career, but at times, it was interesting. It was fun to sometimes pretend I was here as an intellectual, living an ordinary life like all the other students who had a bright future ahead of them. My future would only begin once I killed my father, so I supposed I couldn’t get far in wanting to be like everyone else outside the Mafia circles.
When a professor or instructor was late, it held the whole class back, as though our time wasn’t valuable or respected. When a student arrived late, sneaking in after the lesson or class had begun, it was a frustrating distraction.
This time, I was the one sneaking in, closing the door behind me as quietly as I could.
Without the usual ample morning downtime to get myself dressed and ready today, I felt sloppier than usual, not put together like I preferred. And it showed.
I turned from closing the door, feeling everyone’s eyes on me as I entered. I was in the spotlight now, and I hated it when I didn’t look my best.
Worst of all, though, was the sensation of Professor Remi’s eyes on me. Viktor’s gaze. He paused mid-sentence at my arrival, and he stared at me with something between contempt and curiosity, a bizarre range that triggered me to feel self-conscious. With how I’d last spent time near him, I was on edge.
Had he been leaning in to kiss me?
Was his talking dirty like that a prank?
I couldn’t decipher his expression as he watched me walk into the room and take a seat. He was even better at masking his emotions than I was—cool and blank-faced but with a low-lying burn of anger hinted at in his steely glare.
“Ms. Petrov,” he said loudly.
Dammit. I loathed hearing my name. I couldn’t stand the reminder that I was my father’s daughter. But I knew better than to wish for him to call me Irina in front of the class. Hearing my name roll off his tongue was a private treat I wanted to treasure and keep to myself.
“Nice of you to join us.” He lowered his gaze toward the podium, returning to what he had been reviewing. “You will come to my office this evening for the material you’ve missed.”
Shit. I nodded, though, not in the mood to make a scene or argue. I was late, and I had missed a lot today. His announcement wasn’t an offer or request, but an order. Regardless of how he conveyed the message, it was one more thing for me to deal with.
I was anxious about Maxim being near violence or being cooped up in low-quality housing. I was furious with my father’s treatment of me and my brother, wishing I could just kill him now or run away. And now I had to deal with Viktor being on my ass about classwork.
I sighed heavily, regretting that I hadn’t stopped for coffee. Being here in college was a ruse. It was a big game of pretend, but I couldn’t fail. I refused to be that much of a slacker because in the back of my mind, when I logically thought ahead to what life could be like after I killed my father and escaped, I knew I would need a job. Obtaining a useful degree now could benefit me in the long run. Whenever I could have the freedom to work for a living and provide for Maxim, to make a life on my own terms, I would be able to use my college experience.
So pay attention and stop whining. I blinked and rubbed my eyes that were so irritated from the cold walk and lousy sleep. Buckling in to listen to Viktor’s lecture, I forced myself to remain alert and do my work.
By the time he would speak to me this evening in his office about my makeup work, I would be prepared, confident, and put-together again.