Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Natalia
My week back at the hospital passes without a glitch, thankfully.
No one at work or in my family, such as it is, questions why I was suddenly married, or why I have returned to the hospital to complete my residency. They’re all too busy with their own lives to worry very much about mine.
My supervisor knows, but to everyone else, I just lucked into a short-term assignment with the FBI because of my background and interest in Forensic Psychiatry.
They’re all thinking about which hospital they want to work in and have their own personal dramas to keep their minds occupied.
In other words, no one except Michelle peppers me with questions about my time off and how things are going.
My father is actually happy when I tell him about my pregnancy over the phone.
“Natalia, I am so happy for you and Harrison. Please, bring your new husband to our home on Sunday for dinner. We will celebrate together.”
“Thank you, Father,” I say, glad that he’s willing to invite us into his life. It will make things both harder and easier in the end.
Sunday arrives, and since I have already accepted my father’s invitation for dinner, I’m preparing myself both physically and mentally for my evening performance.
“You could call him and say you’re not feeling well,” Harrison says while we stand at the bathroom vanity and prepare.
“I need to do this,” I say with a sigh and apply one last coating of lip gloss. “Besides, you need to get in good with my father if we hope for this to work. Tonight, you have to be on your best behavior and put on a good performance as my new loving husband.”
Harrison smiles and pulls me into his arms. “I am your new loving husband for real, so that shouldn’t be too hard.”
He bends down to kiss me, and I try to pull away. “Hey, I just put on my lip gloss. You’re going to mess up all my hard work.”
“Mmm,” he says and pulls me closer despite my playful resistance. “I love messing up your hard work. You look so desirable when you’re all messed up…”
We kiss despite my protests, and when the kiss ends, he wipes my bottom lip and then his own. “How do I look? Does the color look good on me?”
He wags his eyebrows playfully and lets me go back to my makeup.
I can’t help but smile. “No more delays, husband. My father doesn’t like it when people are late for dinner.”
After we’re finished, we slip on our coats and take the elevator down to the basement, where our car is parked.
Even now, I feel a sense of danger as we walk through the vehicles.
The lights come on as we pass, and I feel that at any moment, some Russian thug — or Italian or Irish — could jump out and attack either of us.
Luckily, no one does, and so we get to our car safely.
I sigh and fasten my seat belt, watching the garage in case someone leaves the elevator.
Beside me, Harrison starts the car, and we drive off, leaving through the exit and into the early evening.
It’s now six o’clock. The lights are coming on in the city around us as the days get shorter and night falls earlier.
I love driving through Manhattan at night.
The city is so magical with all the lights and tall buildings.
Central Park is beautiful, even though the leaves have fallen and the green is gone.
Harrison takes my hand and squeezes. “Nervous?”
I nod. “Always. I barely know my father. He’s a mafia kingpin. Why wouldn’t I be nervous?”
“I think he cares about you, regardless of his business dealings. In fact, I know it. He’s genuinely happy that you’re back in the fold. Or he thinks you are.”
I exhale and close my eyes, leaning my head back against the headrest. “I’m so sick of pretending, Harrison. I want a real life. I want a real relationship with a family. I don’t want to get too close to him and my half-brothers only to see them all go to jail.”
“I know the feeling all too well,” he says and holds my hand up to his lips for a kiss.
Of course, he knows the feeling. We’re two peas in a pod.
“We’ll get through this, and hopefully, on the other end, we’ll be in our new place. The bad guys will be in jail, and we’ll finally be free of them. For good this time.”
I nod and watch him as we drive through the streets. I’m so lucky to have him. Of all the men I could have met and fallen in love with, he is the one who understands me the most.
But something he says bothers me at the same time.
As much as I want the ‘bad guys’ to be put away, I feel conflicted about my father.
Yes, he’s one of the bad guys by anyone’s definition, but I still don’t want to be the one putting him in prison.
He’s been so nice to me since I returned to the fold.
So warm. He seems genuinely happy that I have asked to be back in his life.
Maybe he’s changed. Still, he’s probably done a lot that would make him deserving of being put in prison for the rest of his life.
I sigh and look out the window as the scenery passes by.
We drive across the Brooklyn Bridge to the area where my father’s mansion is located. When we arrive, we stop at the tall black wrought-iron gate. Security cameras focus on the gate, and Harrison speaks into the intercom.
“Harrison and Natalia,” he says. The intercom buzzes, and the gate opens.
We drive up to the mansion, and my mind goes back to my childhood when I lived here.
It’s so strange for me to be back, visiting, after being so dead set against my father and anything to do with him.
Now, here I am attending Sunday dinner. Part of me is disgusted that I’m back, but another part, the one that remembers the happy times of my childhood, is glad to be back.
If only we could wipe away all the bad that my father has done… For that matter, if only we could do the same for Harrison’s family, and he could keep O’Connor Enterprises running and escape the clutches of the Mafia. Maybe then, we could keep our family legacies alive.
Not everything my father did was bad. The same applies to Harrison’s father.
How I hate the Mafia…
We drive up to the entrance, and a valet comes out to open the door for us. Harrison hands him the keys. Harrison takes my hand, and together, we walk up the stairs to the entrance.
“Aren’t you worried that the valet will put listening devices in our car? Tracking devices?”
Harrison bends down and kisses me quickly. “I imagine they already have the last time we were here. I imagine that the FBI removed them and put its own in. Who knows? Do you like being a pawn in a very large and dangerous game?”
“No, I don’t. I can’t wait until we’re free.”
Harrison nods.
As we arrive at the doors, my father opens them to greet us.
“Natalia,” he says, pulling me into an embrace, kissing my cheeks one after the other. “So happy to have you and Harrison over to share our Sunday meal. Come in, come in. Everyone is waiting in the study.”
He pulls me inside and then turns and shakes Harrison’s hand. “Harrison, so glad to have you as a son-in-law now. Thank you for coming.”
“My pleasure,” Harrison says, smiling, his smile seeming totally authentic. “Thank you for allowing us back into your life. I know that Natalia is so happy to get to know everyone again. Especially because her mother and stepfather are dead. Family is everything.”
We walk down the hallway to the study.
“Yes, yes. Family.” My father nods, his expression serious. “Is everything. Without family, what are you? Nothing. Come in, come in.” He points to the open door to his study, and we enter. Inside, my stepbrothers and his new wife are waiting.
We spend the first fifteen minutes saying hello and catching up on everyone’s news.
“Congratulations,” my stepbrother Ivan says, turning to us. “Father tells us that you two are now married. Why did you skip the big wedding?”
I turn to Harrison, who squeezes my hand. “We want a reception for everyone to help celebrate, but given what happened, we wanted to marry as soon as possible.”
He nods in understanding. “We heard about what happened.” He makes a face. “News about things like what happened to you travels fast in the Russian community.”
“I understand,” I say and exhale. “What about you? What’s new with you?”
For the next half hour, my half-brothers regale me with their stories about their families, football games, and business dealings — the ones you can talk about, of course. It’s all very nice, friendly and truly warm.
Maybe they really do want to reconnect. Part of me always worried that they were as instrumental as I was — reconnecting to accomplish their own goals. But now, I see that they really do have ordinary lives outside of my father’s business. They are real people, with loves, lives and dreams.
In the corner of my father’s study is his baby grand piano — a memory of it is still vivid in my mind.
My father can play. He studied music and genuinely hoped to be a performer, but the family troubles forced him to drop out of music school and become part of the business.
I realize when I see it that the fact that Harrison also plays is part of what attracted me to him.
Anyone who can feel music, really feel it and understand the emotions can’t be all bad.
At least, that’s what I always told myself about my father, despite everything my mother told me about him and his business dealings.
“Father,” I say and point to the piano. “Do you still play? I remember listening to you play Chopin as a child.”
“Does he still play?” Ivan says with a laugh. “When doesn’t he play? Play something for us, Papa.”
My father shrugs and looks up at the ceiling. “If you insist.” He laughs and then goes over to the piano and sits down, opening the cover. “What would you like to hear?”
I remember one piece he used to play that is burned into my childhood memory. “Rachmaninov. Prelude in C Sharp Minor.”
He laughs and smiles at me. “Just the Prelude. Nothing difficult.”
“You used to play it,” I protest. “My mother said you could have been a concert pianist.”
“Ah, yes. I could have. But maybe I will only play the first part. The easy part. I’m too old and too rusty to play the whole piece.”
But of course, he does play the whole piece. His face is almost euphoric as he plays, the emotions playing over his features showing how much he loves the piece.
It brings tears to my eyes.
When he finishes, he glances over at me and sees that I’m wiping my eyes. Right away, he comes over and pulls me into an embrace.
“Oh, my dear Natalia,” he whispers.
“Papa,” I say, and bite my cheek to keep from weeping.
I know that whatever happens, I will do my best to spare my father if I can. It’s only then that I understand Harrison’s desire to keep the family business from being destroyed completely.
I glance over at him, and he is nodding.
He understands.