22. Konstantin
22
KONSTANTIN
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Emily asks me as I take the steps into the private jet two at a time.
She’s sitting at the back in a window seat. Her head rests on the glass, the red smear of dawn chasing away what’s left of the inky night outside. A separate plane of boeviki has already left for New York, and they’ll be there to greet us as soon as we land.
I would’ve preferred more men, but if I bring too many, it’ll only invite trouble.
I have no intention of sending any more mixed signals to the Americans than I already have. I know that even this small number will cause a stir once their presence becomes known.
“I told you already, Kitty Cat,” I say. “For you, I’ll do anything.”
“I know you would,” she replies. “But this just feels … I don’t know. Risky. You were the one who told me about protocol the last time I asked you about going to New York. What’s changed?”
“Nothing, to tell you the truth.” I take her hand in mine, and then look at her belly. “But also, everything.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Domenico suffered a setback on Capri,” I explain. “Sima is still trying to figure out the full extent of everything since that night. But the fact that he hasn’t given me a full report for all these weeks, tells me that the Ferrata Mafia is probably in an advanced state of disarray and collapse already. For that reason, they’re not likely to be a threat.” I give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Especially not in New York with if just a few boeviki to keep an eye out.”
“But he’s still a threat.” Emily points out.
“That will always be the case.” I concede. “But we can’t keep hiding from him, Kitty Cat. And you can’t just give up your connections in America. It’s your home, after all.”
“Home.” She snorts, a sad smile curving on her irresistible face. “Other than Nadia, there’s not much that’s waiting for me back there. You’re taking a big risk for me.”
“Nonsense.” I look at her, wishing that she might stop thinking about how she seems to be inconveniencing me.
There was a time when that thought might’ve crossed my mind. But not anymore.
Not after I saw her outside of our bedroom a few hours earlier.
“How do you feel about this?” I ask, changing the subject away from me to her. “About going back and facing your parents?”
Despite all of the things I know about her, there is an embarrassingly few details I know about her relationship with her parents. All I know is that she would prefer not talk to or about them.
But if they’re coming to New York, then I need to know at least a little bit .
I don’t want to walk blindly into this situation, not if I want to support her.
“I’m not too happy about the fact that they’re coming to New York, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I know,” I say. “But why?”
Emily turns her face away from me to glance out the window as the jet starts moving. Her reflection seems to stare at me as the sky outside turns lighter and lighter with every passing second, making her dazzling blue eyes seem more sapphire like.
“Do you remember when you asked me what was waiting for me in America?”
“Yes.” I nod. “Reality.”
The jet engine roars, gravity shifts, and soon the ground falls away from us. Emily nods, but doesn’t say anything else.
“After I learned about your sister, I always thought that the reality you were talking about was about her death. But that’s not true, is it?”
She sighs. “It’s not.”
“Then what was that reality?” I ask softly. “Your parents?
“In a manner of speaking,” she says. “I was expelled from vet school, and I never got around to telling them.”
Vet school. I wrack my brains for answers, and a second later, the memory resurfaces. She told me she went to vet school when she had quickly laid out a course of treatment for Hamlet’s leg. But when I asked for more information, she told me that it wasn’t her plan anymore.
And I never pressed further.
“I don’t understand.”
“I was expelled because I took the blame for my ex-boyfriend’s drug dealing,” she says in a small voice. “All without knowing just how serious it was.” She shakes her head and looks back outside. “It had been like that for our entire relationship. Not the drug dealing, but the never-ending requests that I do him one more favor, or make one more sacrifice for him. Each request was supposed to be the last.” She scoffs, laughing bitterly. “Well, that was certainly the last.”
My free hand ball into fists in both anger and self-loathing. He had no right to user her like that.
Yet just like him, I did the same thing to her.
“But that wasn’t the worst part.” She blinks fiercely as the jet breaches the clouds, shooting west as we race the sunset. “The worst part was that once I found out, all I could think about was how I was going to explain it to my parents. I was more worried about disappointing them than I was at the fact that I burned my own future down to the ground.”
“Kitty Cat …” I unclench my fist, reach forward, and close it around our locked fingers.
“I’m not finished.” She looks at our clasped hands. “When you stepped away, that was when my mom called me to tell me my sister died. But she didn’t say ‘your sister died’ or ‘Olivia died.’ Do you know what she said?”
Her fingers tighten around mine, as if she’s trying to draw my own strength into herself. I stay silent, and urge her on with my eyes.
“That junkie is dead.” Emily whispers, her voice low and bitter. “Because that was all Olivia ever was to them. A junkie.”
I blink in shock. I’ve faced callousness from family members, but this cruelty is something I didn’t think was possible. Not even Alla could be this cruel.
“And before I can even react, she told me that I needed to find out if Olivia had a life insurance policy, and that I had to go to New York for that. Not to find out how she died, but for her money. ”
“This isn’t just callousness,” I can’t help myself anymore. “This is evil.”
She pulls in a breath that lifts her chest. When she lets it out, she remains silent, as if she needs more time to prepare to talk. “It gets worse. Believe me.”
“How can this possibly get any worse?”
“Before I called Nadia,” she says. “I got a call from Mom, and she said that I was the designated recipient of Olivia’s life insurance policy. It turns out Mom only called me to talk about sending the money over to them.”
My jaw drops at this revelation. Every word Emily saysrakes my heart. But at the same time, I feel like something isn’t adding up. Something that I can’t quite place my finger on.
Frowning, I ask. “How did your parents find out that you were the designated recipient?”
“I—” Emily starts to answer but stops herself. “I never thought about that. And to tell you the truth, I was a little bit confused about this as well. I suppose I still am.”
“There’s no point speculating,” I tell her. “Not until we arrive. But what do you want to do with the money?”
“I don’t want it,” she says quickly. “Not after I learned how Olivia died. I don’t want a single penny of that money. But …”
“You don’t want to give it to your parents either.” I finish the thought for her.
She sits up straighter and her frown tears my heart in two. She nods. “It just feels wrong to give them that money.”
“It’s because you know they’ll be profiting off her death,” I say.
This is something that I’m intimately familiar with in this violent life of mine. Death and misery can be sources of great wealth and opportunities, but these are supposed to be reserved for your enemies.
Not your own children!
This is one of the most fucked-up things that a parent can do.
My eyes drift over towards Emily’s belly where our child is growing, and I feel fresh waves of anger crashing against my soul. I can’t possibly imagine doing something like what Emily’s parents are doing to her.
If my child died … I shudder at the thought. I would burn down the entire world to avenge them. And then I would throw myself onto the fire so that I might be with them again.
“Konstantin?” Emily’s voice snaps me out of the dark thoughts spiraling in my head. “You’re crying.”
“Am I?” I ask, and realize that my voice is choking with emotion and my vision is burry.
Slowly releasing Emily’s hand, I reach up and wipe away the tears from my eyes. Looking down at the salty wetness on my fingertips, I let out a long breath.
“I suppose I am.”
“You were thinking the same thing, weren’t you?” she asks as her hand moves to her belly.
“Yes …” I choke out. “How can your parents be so cruel? So heartless? Olivia was their daughter , their first daughter! Whatever her faults were, she was once a part of them both.”
“They always loved their money more than they loved either of their daughters.” Her voice gets tighter, as if she’s fighting down a wave of anger.
“I’m sorry, Kitty Cat.” I get up and make my way over to her .
She tilts toward me. It’s subtle, but I take the hint, and wrap my arm around her shoulder. She leans her weight into me. As much as I love this feeling of her body pushed against mine, I hate the reason it’s happening.
“Was this too much to tell you?”
“No,” I tell her as I cup her face. “You needed to say it. And I needed to hear it.”
Relief washes over her face. She slumps against me, the tension leaving her body. I reach for her hand and she meets me, our fingers hugging in my lap. “Thank you,” she whispers and sinks further against me, breathing softly.
She snuggles closer, more relaxed than before her cathartic release. We continue the flight like this in silence.
Pressing my lips to her forehead, I change the topic. “Are you excited to see Nadia?”
“I am.” Emily’s eyes flutter open. “She’s probably going to lose her mind when we show up. Did I ever tell you that when she first saw you walk out of that hotel room, she thought we were hooking up?”
“I can imagine that, yeah.”
“And then before we went out to Zebra Club, she told me that she was ordering me to find you and thank you properly.”
I can’t help myself from laughing when I hear this. “Should I thank her for you being my wife?”
“Please don’t.” Emily smiles for the first time since we got on the plane. “I don’t need her ego getting any bigger than it already is. Especially this weekend.”
“She’ll be happy to have you there,” I tell her.
“I know,” she says. “And now that we’re going, it kind of feels surreal. I can’t even believe that this is all happening right now. There will probably also be a ridiculous number of lavender-colored decorations, by the way.”
The mention of lavender-colored decorations gets my attention and I can’t help the smile curving on my face. “Funny you should mention that.”
“What?” Emily tilts her head quizzically. “The decorations? What’s so important about them?”
“It’s probably easier to show you.”
I reach over, unbuckle her seatbelt and offer my hand to her. After she rises, I walk her back towards the bedroom at the rear of the jet. A brief flush passes over her face when she sees the familiar bed that we had slept in the last time she was on this jet.
But unlike last time, we’ll be totally alone for the next nine hours.
“I had Ivica pack a few things that we might need when we arrive.” I walk over to the luggage rack at the rear and pull out a familiar black bag with a bright pink Hello Kitty bag tag on it.
When I turn to look at Emily, she has a bemused expression on her face. “Are you sure you have the right bag this time?”
I chuckle. “I checked, Kitty Cat. Twice.”
“So …” she walks over, and her soft fingertips dance across the back of my neck. “What is it that you’re trying to show me?”
I lay the bag down, and open it up to reveal a beautiful lavender dress with material as soft and silky as flowing water. Emily gasps when she sees it.
“Is that the dress you had Buric made for me?”
“The exact one.” I nod. “I know you didn’t get a chance to wear it other thanthe night I brought it back. And I figure, why not now?”
“I’m not even sure if it’ll still fit.” Biting her lips, she picks up the dress and holds it up in front of her.
“There’s only one way to find out, Kitty Cat.” I take her hands in mine and lower them slightly until our eyes lock on each other.
Her pupils widen. Her breathing quickens, sending her chest rising and falling as the space between us suddenly grows almost stifling. She looks at me, seemingly frozen in place as she considers.
Then, she gives me a slight nod, smirking. “You just want an excuse to see me naked.”
“Believe me, Kitty Cat,” I reply, matching her expression with my own. “If I wanted to see you naked, I wouldn’t need an excuse.”
Her smile widens. “Fair enough. But if this dress doesn’t fit …”
“Then I’ll buy you another one.” I shrug. “I’ll buy you a hundred, a thousand, as many as you could ever want. You just have to tell me.”
She looks down, her cheeks flushing, as strands of her chestnut hair falls over her eyes like a curtain. Then, she hands the dress out for me to hold as she slowly pulls her shirt over her head. Her belly has started to show a bulge, and there’s a new rosiness to her pale skin.
Her breasts—now noticeably larger and heavier with milk—bounces as she gives the shirt one final tug over her head. Smiling, she throws it to the side carelessly as the jet drones around us.
Keeping her eyes locked on mine, she reaches down with her delicate fingers, hooks under the elastic waistband of her yoga pants, and rolls them down to expose her milky thighs.
My heart hammers in my throat and I feel my pants growing tighter and tighter as I watch.
She’s breathtaking. A work of art.
And she’s mine.
“What?” she asks once she’s in her underwear, and her cheeks flush again. The redness spreads down her neck to her upper chest, and the freckles dotting her shoulder seem to grow more prominent with every breath.
“I just like to look at you,” I reply. “Have I told you today how stunningly gorgeous you are? But you are more than just beautiful. You’re adventurous. Fearless. Equal parts reckless and stubborn.”
She giggles. “Just hand me the dress.”
I do as she asks, and she steps into the watery material, pulls it up, and slips her arms through the sleeves. Like the yellow sundress she wore the other day, this dress is also somewhat tight, but not enough that she looks uncomfortable in it.
If anything, she looks even more beautiful in it. The watery material clings to her curves, complementing them rather than showing them off. It complements her elegance and grace. And though it showcases her natural sensuality, it doesn’t emphasize it for others.
Only for me.
“Take it off, Kitty Cat.”
“Why?” she asks. “You don’t like it?”
“It’s because I like it so much that I need you to take it off.” I stand up, and her eyes immediately dart towards the bulge in my pants. “Because I can’t ruin that dress. Not yet.”