Chapter 10
Ten
The women around me are being polite. Too polite. I know it is because they are unsure of what to say but also, I’ve gathered that only Vanya, the one married to Adrian Volkov, is familiar with how the mafia operates. The other one, Evaline, is still learning, and her friend Lizzie is strung so tight she is ready to bolt at any given second.
Vitali had all but dragged me out of bed this morning, stuffed me in someone else’s clothes, and dragged me downstairs to sit with the three ladies while he went to chase some kind of lead. I didn’t ask. Not because I am not curious, but because I don’t want to draw his attention to me if I don’t have to.
Not that my sudden demureness didn’t stop him from cuffing one of my hands to a chair in the sitting room.
Every now and then I lean in my chair to grab a few things from the massive charcuterie board the Nakamura’s chef has laid out on the table. I’m still not feeling well enough to eat a full meal, but the ability to graze helps. So does the company. My father never let me have friends he didn’t approve of. The ones he did allow could never be considered friends. They were vultures. Spies. All seeking the favor of the Don’s favorite Capo.
Evaline, Kenzo’s wife, is in the middle of telling Vanya and me about what transpired at their wedding yesterday. It takes some brass balls to shoot up a Yakuza boss’s big day and attempt to kidnap his bride. Even my father doesn’t have that kind of gall.
I’m still not even sure what the hell is going on. Vitali wants my brother. He’s set on finding him, but I don’t know why. What did Elio do to cross Vitali? Not that I think it would take much, but my captor, up until we arrived here, was set on locating him.
Hurt blooms in my chest as I think about Elio abandoning me. He’s alive—Vitali confirmed that much—but he never came for me. The brother who fought to protect me from my father left me to die alone in that godforsaken cabin.
To keep my mind off the unknown, I’ve been regaling the girls with tales of Italian nude beaches. I managed to sneak out once, just for a little while, and it had been worth the punishment.
“Never visit Italian beaches during that time,” I howl with laughter, enjoying that even Lizzie has managed a small smile at my story. “You’ll see more cringeworthy dicks than you ever wanted to.”
Another burst of laughter erupts from the group of women.
“Adrian would never,” Vanya adds with her own laugh, dabbing the corner of her eyes with her finger. “He’d blindfold me before taking me to the beach.”
Evaline sits next to her on the couch, giggling along with her. The two have become fast friends despite only meeting today. These women are strong. Anyone can see that, and it causes a lump to build in my throat. I’m nothing like them. I may seem strong. I may lift my chin in defiance. But the mask I wear is just that. A mask. Underneath it I am nothing more than what my father made me.
A scared little girl.
“What’s that comb in your hair?” Vanya asks Evaline between bites of raspberries. “It’s beautiful.”
Evaline reaches up to gently touch the comb that is holding back the left side of her hair. It is a large, intricate Japanese-style comb littered with emeralds and diamonds. The design is unique, and I wonder where she got it from. You don’t see many combs like that anymore outside of museums.
“Oh,” Evaline smiles, turning slightly so we can see it better. My eyes widen slightly when I see the two dips in the comb that resemble a head of snakes. “It’s a family heirloom from Kenzo’s side. His mother gave it to me.”
Squinting, I lean forward slightly to get a better view as pick up my glass of wine. “That is certainly an interesting heirloom,” I tell her. “It is a Medusa comb.”
“What’s a Medusa comb?” Vanya asks, curiously examining the heirloom herself.
“During World War II, Japanese female spies in other countries used to wear Medusa combs in their hair so that German and Japanese forces could identify them as spies for their homeland.”
Taking a sip of my drink, I tilt my head toward the comb. “If you noticed, the dips have a snake-like appearance. The jewels are their eyes.”
From the way Evaline is mildly startled at its history, she hadn’t been told the heritage of such an heirloom.
“After the war ended, the Japanese government had no more use for these kinds of spies, so most of them were left on their own,” I continue, leaning back. “Abandoned by their government, many of the women joined the ranks of the Yakuza. The combs became a symbol of status for the women. They were married to high-ranking officials within the organization or to government officials for use in spying. The combs were how they were identified.”
The comb appears almost new and one of the snakes is oddly deformed, but I shake the thought away. I wonder if the mother-in-law knows the heritage. Did she receive it from her own mother or grandmother?
Evaline’s face pales at the realization of what the comb truly stands for. She is a sweet soul, and it doesn’t take me knowing much about her to know what she is running through her head. Evaline is wondering if the Yakuza still uses these practices. If they force women into bed with prominent men to spy for them.
“Mrs. Nakamura’s car is here for you,” one of the guards, Niko, informs Evaline. She smiles warmly at her guard and stands from her seat.
“Thank you both so much for spending time with me today,” she says sincerely. “I really appreciate it.” We all smile up at her. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time. Not since my mother was alive.
“We’ll see you when you get back,” Vanya adds softly. “I believe Adrian wanted to stay for dinner and poker tonight. And I thought it would be fun to do a movie night in your impressive theater.”
Evaline laughs. “That sounds great,” she agrees as she grabs her purse and says one last goodbye before following her guard out the door.
“I’m going to get going as well,” Lizzie says softly. Vanya and I nod, barely able to say goodbye before she makes a beeline for the door .
“What is that about?” Vanya asks, scrunching her nose. “That poor girl was so spooked the entire time she was here.”
Shrugging, I take another long sip of my wine. Or what is left of it. “From what I heard about yesterday, she is pretty shaken up about what happened. Especially when Kenzo blamed her initially for the breach in security.”
Vanya lets out a long sigh, her shoulders dropping. “It’s sad. Evaline says Lizzie has been a friend since they were in grade school. I know what it’s like to lose friends to this life.”
That must be nice. Ugh, that is the big green monster talking. It isn’t fair for me to be jealous of the friendship Evaline and Lizzie must share. When I was younger, I used to imagine that I was the most popular girl with so many friends. I’d hold tea parties and fancy balls, all in the comfort and safety of my room.
Where my father couldn’t see.
When I don’t say anything, Vanya glances over at me from behind her wine glass.
“I take it I wasn’t the only one who didn’t have a whole lot of friends.” She takes a sip of her wine.
I huff a mirthless laugh. “The only friends I was allowed to have were one my father handpicked from Italian high society.”
Vanya holds out her glass in solidarity. “Cheers to being out from under that shit.”
Smiling, I hold my own glass out and clink it to hers.
Ping .
Our heads turn toward Vitali’s computer.
The darkened screen flickers to life, casting a pale blue glow in the darkened area. Several windows begin stacking one on top of another before a faint electronic chime pings again along with an apparent error dialogue box .
“What’s that for?” I ask curiously.
Vanya’s fingers nervously trace the rim of her wine glass as she avoids eye contact with me. The silence hangs heavy between us, but I can sense something weighing on her mind. Finally, she takes a deep breath and meets my gaze.
“I don’t know if I should tell you.” She hesitates. I can’t blame her. It’s not like one glass of wine and a shared charcuterie board is a trust builder.
“Listen,” I tell her, setting aside my glass and leaning forward as much as my handcuff allows. “Whatever he was working on looks important. He’s trying to find whoever attempted to kidnap Evaline. I’m good with computers.”
She’s skeptical, and I don’t blame her.
“Very good,” I assure her.
Biting her lower lip, she takes a moment to think it over before nodding her head. I shoot her a smile. Vanya stands up, walks around the coffee table, and kneels next to my chair. Before I can ask what she is doing, she gives me a sly smile and pulls out a handcuff key.
“With how many times I’ve ended up in handcuffs, I find it smart to carry one with me.”
A snort falls past my lips. “I don’t want to know.” Vanya laughs and shoots me a wink. Rubbing my wrist, I let out a small groan. “That feels so much better.”
Standing, I make my way to the computer.
“What was he doing?” Vanya asks as I bring the laptop over to the sofa. It takes me a few moments to sift through the information on the screen to figure out what Vitali was trying to do.
“He seems to be trying to piece together parts of the footage that is missing from the CCTV footage at the wedding venue.” My fingers fly across the keyboard as I begin writing my own algorithm for the missing pieces. “ Vitali’s algorithm is good, but it doesn’t utilize the variations in blank spaces which will help fill everything in faster and with more accuracy.”
“Damn,” Vanya whispers in awe. “Where did you learn to do this?”
Giving a nonchalant shrug, I apply the algorithm to the application and start running everything through.
“One of my governesses went to MIT.” I chuckle at the confusion on Vanya’s face. “I know, weird right? She had been traveling through Italy and needed a temporary job.”
“And she taught you how to code?” Vanya asks in disbelief.
“Yes,” I say, waiting for the laptop to finish running the algorithm. “I think she saw I was lonely. That I needed something to fix my mind on. Out of all the governesses my father hired, she was the only one who bothered to care about anything other than a paycheck.”
My breath escapes my lungs in a slow, drawn-out exhale that feels as if it carries the weight of my past. The tension in my body drains away like water circling a drain. For a moment, I feel lighter, as if some of the weariness has dissipated along with the long exhalation.
Vanya nods her head, the sadness in her eyes mirroring my own.
“She was…”
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” A roaring voice startles the two of us. My gaze shifts to the raging bull that is Vitali De Luca. He’s charging toward us, pissed.
“Your computer pinged,” I scream at him, my body trembling with anger. Vitali’s chest rumbles with a low growl as he snatches the laptop from my grasp.
“This is none of your business,” he sneers down at me, eyes brimming with anger. “You aren’t here to snoop for your fucking brother, principessa .”
The muscles in my lower jaw tremble, and I rear back as if he physically slapped me. His cold words combined with the unrestrained disgust on his face have tears pushing at the back of my eyes. I’m still not sure what my brother did to earn Vitali De Luca’s ire, but I have nothing to do with it. Since he stole me yesterday, I haven’t made one single fuss, and here he is treating me as if I am some kind of rat beneath his feet.
A soft hand envelopes mine. “Don’t be cruel, Vitali,” Vanya scolds the man, the death glare she is aiming at him could melt steel. “The information looked important. You should be glad she was curious because she managed to fix” She turns to me. “What was it again?”
“Your software wasn’t able to fully piece together the missing videos,” I murmur somewhat petulantly. “I wrote a new algorithm that allows for special variations in blank spaces to help put it back together.”
From next to him, Volkov lets out an amused snort while Kenzo is covering his laugh with a cough.
“And it worked,” Vanya points out, her chin tipping up. “So be a good boy and say thank you.”
Eyes wide, I shift my gaze to her, surprised by her outright defiance. I’m trying to decide if she is brave or stupid. I doubt her husband would allow Vitali to punish her, but where I come from, talking to a man that way ends in a beating.
“Vanya” Volkov warns his wife softly. There is a warning in the undercurrent of his gentle tone, but it isn’t chastising.
“No,” Vanya cuts him off. “He was a jerk when all she was trying to do was help. She didn’t have to. Especially since he kidnapped her, but she wanted to because she knows it is for Evaline.”
An awkward silence falls around us at her statement. A rush of warmth spreads through my chest. Her words wrap around me like a protective blanket, dispelling the anxiety and discomfort that lingered moments before. I shoot her a grateful smile, her defense of me igniting a spark of resilience within me at knowing someone finds value in me.
“Thank you.” Vitali responds through gritted teeth and with a glare, like he is being forced to chew on glass. The warmth Vanya ignited inside of me dims, and I shrink back into the sofa, whispering a quiet “You’re welcome.”
Vanya, no doubt sending my distress, grips my hand tighter in reassurance. Her touch is gentle, and I struggle to hold back tears and push away the overwhelming feelings caused by her kindness, something I’ve rarely experienced back home with my own family.
For a brief moment, despite Vitali’s death glare, I feel lighter than I ever have before.
And I don’t want the feeling to end.