Chapter Thirty-Three
Ava
I blink my eyes awake, straining as the sunshine filters across my face. I reach behind me to find Roman but only the cold empty comforter meets my hand. I am not sure what time it was or how long I was awake. His pillow divots from where he was as I roll over with a sigh. I smile, thinking about what he said last night and how I never expected those words to ever come out of his mouth.
I can’t understand it completely and maybe I will never understand it.
He told you what you wanted to hear.
I kick the covers away from me and look at the tiny cuts from the thorns creating various patterns across my thighs and knees. I touch my forehead, grazing my fingers over the cut from Shawn, hoping it isn’t too bad. It was almost healed but a sliver of a scab remains, nothing makeup can’t fix. The cuts on my arm, from the brick wall, was another story.
I lift my arm to examine the damage, imagining how I will cover them up. I had a black dress in my closet and the red satin dress, I wore the day I met Roman, but none of them would ever cover this monstrosity. I wonder which one was grabbed when they packed my things.
Fuck I don’t want to go and be around all of these people.
I just want to be around Roman and back in bed with his arm around me. I turn my wrist, looking at the damage once more and a clothing bag hanging on the door catches my eye. I lower my arm to my side, focusing on a note safety pinned to the bag. Hurrying to the door, I open the cream note.
Cottontail,
A dress made for such a sweet creature and a mask to match your beauty inward and outward.
Meet me in the Library at 2 O’Clock
Don’t be late.
Love,
Roman
I smile when I read the word love but my heart aches at the match outward part. The way I wear my kindness is the only thing I truly know and understand about myself most of the time, but the other masks I tuck away. Depending on the person, the day and mood, I morph. But with Roman, it’s as if they blur and fade together. Though, I am sure once I am in reality, away from all of this chaos, it will be just the same as it always has been.
Roman
Nikolai hands me a list, “These are the people that are on the list before we take out Stepan.”
Alexei, Sergey, Nikolai and I stand in the office I swore I would never go in again. It has a vintage glow from the stained glass lamps as they sit around on various side tables. The air was sweet like I could almost smell my mothers perfume lingering. The burgundy and gold swirls in the carpet intersect with each other as I stare at the spot where I found her cold and unresponsive. The leather couch next to the spot was just as I remembered, not a crack in sight on its perfect, leather upholstery.
I blink and read the list, “Shawn is not on here Nikolai.”
“Roman…”
“I only see Stepan’s men and the shit-bag himself, but if Shawn is coming, then why is his name not on here? Actually, it doesn’t matter. I have been waiting for this moment for weeks so, he will be the first to go. Understood?” I say evenly. I have discussed this with him, and I can’t have Shawn alive after what he did to Ava.
Alexei sinks down into the chair at the wooden desk, centering the oval window behind him. He shuffles old papers to avoid me. Sergey stares out the window with his back to me, holding his hands behind him.
Nikolai steps towards me, “Roman, we have to finish what we started first, then we can figure out what to do with Shawn. He isn’t working our case, he is just in the pockets of the FBI and Italians. They will come, but we can’t risk you dying because of some revenge you have for— ”
“ —For who Nikolai?” I wait for his response, narrowing my eyes, “Who Nikolai, tell me who it is?” I clench my jaw as he stands there quietly and unsure how to respond. “You know so please tell me who?”
Nikolai is quiet, like he was trying to whisper but his low voice wouldn’t allow it, “Do you Roman? Do you really know who she is?” He shakes his head slowly as he takes a pipe from his suit pocket and strikes a match. Lighting the vanilla tobacco, he inhales the sweet smoke. He exhales a smoke ring, “She is the only one who does. Silly girl took a bite out of you and I don’t want to watch everything we have, you have, ever wanted for the past two decades, to go to shit.”
I fold the paper and place it in the inner pocket of my suit as I shake my head with a grin of disbelief, “Everyone on this list will be taken care of, including Shawn. Now with Ava I am not sure what is to come or if she is working with Sarah and you don’t either.” I grumble as I walk toward the door, “Meet me here at 2:30 with Sarah, and don’t be late.” I open the door and as I exit, shut it with a slam. I reach for my chain and swing the pocket watch to my palm.
1:27 p.m.
The chatter of the catering team has been in and out in the downstairs ballroom all morning, but I am not sure if Stepan will show up before the party. I doubt it with everything he has at stake with sealing the deal. Tonight was the biggest deal of his life and probably the last. I pull a rabbit card from my pocket, lifting my suit open slightly as I reach for the white paint marker. The card settles in my palm as I illustrate the white rabbit. Today Shawn will die, along with the immediate evil that has stained these walls for years.
I flip the card and write:
My Sweet Rabbit,
The spiral of the key,
The unlocking of a door,
The uncovering of what is true,
Don’t waiver from me, you know you are sure.
Know that I watch you enter the house, lose yourself, and find your way out
But always know you will always be mine,
No matter the day, no matter the time.
I am not sure she will connect this poem to me or if she will block out that I'm the one who has sent them all this time. Even if she found out, I am not sure if she would forgive me for letting her think it was Shawn. But the truth always has to come to light sooner or later.
Last night, I held her like today was her last as I watched her sleep. Her naked body is beautiful and every imperfection she thinks is a flaw, is the complete opposite. The way she pulls herself into her sweaters, the way her skin rises from my touch, how she stares at paintings like she is ready to jump in or the way she musters the confidence to be bold and is comfortable enough to do so around me.
Ava
I slip the dress over my head and look at myself, admiring the full face of makeup I spent creating, as I zip the back of my dress to the middle of my back. The mirror in the bathroom doesn’t show anything past my waist but I am astonished about how I look.
The cream dress has long sleeves but scoops around my shoulders, dragging to a V between my breasts. It has tiny black and red beads weaving with each other into a fluid design. It was tight, elegant and probably costs more than what I make in a year.
I take my glasses off and set them in the matching wringlet purse and clasp it shut. I brush my hair over my shoulder as I pick up the matching lace mask.
I walk to the bedroom door and step into the hall. I take slow steps down as I listen to the chatter from downstairs. Guests will arrive soon, but I was happy I could at least wear a mask to hide myself. I focus on the memories I have here as I smile.
“Miss.” I hear someone call out and turn to see Igor.
“Hi Igor?” He looks worried, and as am I as my smile fades.
He holds out a small envelope, “I usually check the mail and this was in there for you.”
“Oh…uh…” I take the envelope but not sure how anyone would know I have been here, unless Roman forwarded my mail somehow.
“Thank you Igor,” I smile, “I hope you will be coming to the party today.”
He shakes his head, “Oh, no. But you look beautiful.” He nods and walks away.
I fold the flap open and see there is something written on it.
You thought you could hide from me.
My stomach sinks as I reach for a little white index card.
I always knew where you have been but do you?
The hall suddenly starts to feel like it was closing in with a sway. How would he know? Unless he followed us, which makes sense, but it doesn’t take away the fact he was still around no matter how far I thought I had gotten. I grab the rabbit card and read the back carefully over and over.
I am not yours you fucking psycho. I am… I am…
“Ava?” Roman’s familiar voice says. I turn toward him as I hide the card behind my back. This is all too much. I fidget my purse open behind my back and plop it in, “Hi,” I reply as I clasp it closed.
He is standing in the doorway of the Library with yet another handsome suit that is tight in all the right places. “You look beautiful, Ava.” He grabs my hand and I follow him. He turns to face me and shuts the door. His slight mischievous smirk and dark eyes almost make me break down and tell him about everything. Shawn, why I am here, my feelings for him, all of it but there is a confusion of a tiny voice telling me not to.
He pulls me into him, stroking the back of his hand down my face and over my breasts. I inhale as the pulse of electricity ignites in my lower abdomen. I wanted to go back to that first night here. He leans to my ear and takes a long breath in my hair, nuzzling his nose toward my neck. With a slight exhale he kisses my neck slowly, too slow, trailing over my jawline until he meets my mouth as I wrap my arms up over his shoulders.
He groans out needly, “I fucking want you right here,” he keeps his lips close to mine as he looks at my eyes, “but there is something we have to do.”
I smile into his mouth, “What can be as important than… how would you put it? Wanting your cum dripping from me?”
He groans again, “Sweet girl, you are driving me mad.” He bites down on my neck and leans his hard cock against my hip.
I giggle, “What is it we have to do?” I look over his shoulder and I see the album open on the desk. He stops his hands around my waist when he realizes my distraction.
He grabs my hand leading me to the desk, “I want to tell you something not many know about me.” He stops at the desk as I stare down at who I am assuming is his mother and him at a young age sitting on a stone well. “This is my mother, and she was the best mother to me. She was kind, funny and loved to make everyone see the good in everything,” he explains as he closes the album, “She married my father in Russia and when they moved here with my brother and I, everything was perfect. But my father became something that is common in the Bratva, soulless.” He sits on the desk and grabs my hands, leading me between his legs. My eyes watch his fade from the happy Roman, that was just kissing me, to the dark Roman I met. “This was her library she created for herself, to lose herself and find herself again. The terrariums were crafted by her and are the only things left living of her. As a kid I would bring flowers and I would set them on top to remember her. Until I was sent away,” his jaw tightened, “She was the only person who accepted me for who I was. She was my biggest fan when all I ever wanted was truth and justice. My father killed her with his bare hands and it was never the same again.” His voice was emotionless and cold like if he showed any strife it would dissolve the memories of her.
He is a monster but I can’t help to think he is not and will never be like his father. I would hope he could never because I am still here. Well for now at least.
He brushes the tear on my lower lid away with his thumb, “It’s okay, Cottontail. I wanted you to know why this place is special to me, especially this album with pictures of her.”
I press my lips together, as I fight my tears, from the thought of him having someone we all dreamed we had as children. How it was taken from him.
I can’t take that from him either.
He kisses my hand, “We also have one more thing to do before the party. Follow me.” I step back as he hops off the table.
His eyes don’t switch back to the happy Roman as he grabs my hand and it makes me wonder what the last thing is.