Chapter 11 New Year’s Eve
New Year’s Eve
It was a New Year’s Eve I would never forget. Much like everything else that had to do with Vitali Konstantinov. But in these twenty-four hours, everything changed forever.
Mama and I spent the day prior rolling out dough, baking, mixing and cutting.
There were so many ingredients, so many dishes, so many mixing bowls that they spread all the way to the living room table.
Maxim was tasked with running back and forth and retrieving whatever became vital to our cause at the moment that it did.
I knew how to cook; one could even say I excelled at it, but I was no match for Mama, who grew six extra arms for this occasion.
There were supposed to be four people—us and Vitali—but she’d made enough food to feed the whole district.
I watched all the salads and fish dishes and meat come together and mentally calculated how much of it I could eat and still fit in my dress.
I’d already have to suck in my stomach the whole evening—it really did hug me like a glove.
I made it a point to show Mama so she wouldn’t yell at me later.
She wanted to, I could tell, but when I mentioned Vitali she settled on a dramatized disapproving frown and waved me away, muttering that I better wear thick leggings.
I wasn’t going to, of course. I could take being cold if it meant I could show off my legs for him.
When the phone rang, my heart sank because a part of me was almost certain this would be the call where he told me he couldn’t make it—that he had to leave.
I hesitated for long enough that Mama grabbed the phone.
She listened, nodding shrewdly to herself, then hung up.
I made a sweeping-shrug-like questioning motion, but she raised her nose at me and kept going with her tasks. Maybe it wasn’t Vitali who’d called.
But it was.
He arrived shortly after with two bottles of French champagne. I had never seen Maxim so excited to see anyone. I think Vitali was his personal celebrity.
And then, he kissed me.
Not on my lips, but a stiff quick ‘hello’ peck on the cheek. We made eye contact, and I could see his teeth grinding, and it made the moment so much more meaningful because he had done it for me. Whatever it was that kept him away, this was for me.
It was still early, but Mama insisted that Maxim go to bed right after midnight, so all activities had to be hurried. We normally wouldn’t dine until ten, but Mama and I had the table set by eight while Vitali and Maxim watched Soviet cartoons. Maxim could barely sit still.
I took a moment to appreciate Vitali while he wasn’t looking.
Today, the turtleneck was gray with festive bits of silver thread woven through, undoubtedly custom because it looked a little ridiculous to be sold in stores.
Atop it was a black suit jacket and matching pants.
A thin gold chain peeked out between the lapels, not gaudy like I was used to seeing on men around the city, but thin and elegant, almost imperceptible.
He was freshly shaven, and the image of him in his bathroom, shirtless, with that razor, while I watched his muscles move underneath the tattoos, wouldn’t leave my mind.
That’s when it occurred to me that he hadn’t brought presents.
He showered us with gifts from the moment he stepped into our lives, and owed me nothing, but a part of me was disappointed because this was the big day.
I got him something I hoped he didn’t already own, but it was so hard to know with someone like him.
I wasn’t going to spend his own money to get him something expensive that he might not even like. And it was his money.
“Katushka,” Mama called from the kitchen, and I marched my butt back there just to find out all she needed was for me to climb the stool (her bad leg sure chose whenever it was convenient to act up) and grab her special occasion teapot for later when it was time to serve dessert.
When we came out to the living room to start dinner, Vitali was gone.
“Maxim, where’d he—?”
Mama exclaimed something incoherent behind me, and I spun around to face something that remains one of the funniest things I’d ever seen.
Vitali was tall, muscular, and always very, very serious.
That was why seeing him in a Father Frost outfit with the fake beard and star-covered blue robe sent me into fits of laughter.
I laughed until I cried off my mascara and had to dab at my eyes with a napkin to keep from being a complete mess.
Maxim chortled next to me, and Mama appeared very proud of herself, having undoubtedly helped mastermind the entire thing.
So, this muscular, absurdly good-looking Father Frost held out the large blue velvet bag, announcing that we would now receive the presents. I was still giggling when he looked at me. I couldn’t see his mouth, but his eyes squinted with that hidden smile.
Maxim was first, and second, and third. There were so many presents that I began to shoot Vitali reproachful glances.
Some were candy, some toys, and the final one sent a very long, very loud shriek through the apartment.
Wide-eyed, Maxim held out a brand-new Sega. Mama gasped. The shriek continued.
Mama received a shawl, and she and Vitali went through their dance of ‘I couldn’t’ and ‘it’s nothing.’ I was fairly sure that was more fun for her than receiving the gifts. Finally, our tragic martyr accepted it, immediately put it on, and let out another gasp.
I was last. He was unnecessarily close when he reached down to hand it to me. So close that I heard the whisper no one else did.
“I told you, I’ll put one on you myself, Kotik.”
A necklace. A diamond set gold waterfall necklace on a short chain…
Short enough to be a choker.
No. A collar.
He set the bag aside and knelt before me, taking hold of it while I breathlessly held up my hair.
It fell heavily against my chest, and I became so aware of it touching my neck—of him touching my neck, that the world spun, and nothing existed at that moment except his warm hands on me and his light eyes reaching into my soul.
His collar, claiming me as his own. As if I hadn’t already been for months.
“One fit to deserve you,” he said, barely above a whisper.
Of course, Mama was immediately over to examine it and proclaim her praises. Maxim didn’t care; he would not return to us again that evening because his entire life now revolved around Sonic the Hedgehog and would for the next two to three business months.
I didn’t give Vitali his present. I couldn’t, not in front of Mama.
Not that it was inappropriate, but I knew it might make him feel a certain way, and I couldn’t without knowing how.
So, when he went into Mama’s room to change back into a person and not the embodiment of winter and my new kink, I followed him inside.
“Vitali,” I said as he shrugged the blue velvet and silver garland coat off. “I have something for you.”
“Hm?” He raised a brow, moving the beard to the side as he fiddled with the ribbon that held it on at the back of his head.
Flustered, I nervously fingered the small, wrapped present behind my back.
He tossed the beard on the bed as I stepped closer, and rubbed his chin where the cheap plastic irritated his skin.
I didn’t want to look at him, and he probably—definitely—positively either already owned it or I misread the situation and this would be the dumbest gift anyone had ever gotten him.
I held it out before I lost my bravery. His hand purposefully brushed my fingers, as they always did. Almost holding. Almost.
He scraped the corner of the paper with his nail, and peeled it off the flat package.
“I didn’t know if—”
“In Me, In You,” he slowly read off the cover of the Chloé Dae album.
“She just released it,” I said sheepishly, my hands clasped so tightly they were turning white. I couldn’t read his expression; he just stared at it, and it did nothing for my emotional well-being until he looked up.
And his eyes were sadder than ever.
His arms enveloped me with unrestrained strength, one hand holding my head tightly against his chest. The thump-thump-thump of his heart became my own rapid beat.
I couldn’t cry again, I couldn’t, and yet the tears were right there—sitting on the edge of my consciousness because I felt his foundation crack.
Maybe so much that I could reach inside.
“Thank you…” he whispered, stroking my hair. He could have been shaking, but I would never know because I was so nervous I shook too.
I knew he was going to kiss me when he let go.
His hand lingered, tracing my spine. There was a certain look to him, this glass-like reflective quality to his eyes.
His jaw shifted and lips parted with a shallow breath, fingertips pressing on the small of my back and inviting me closer.
I only knew his lips, and could feel the heat of them before they touched mine—
But they never did.
The doorbell vibrated through the apartment with the force of a thousand bombs, because that’s what it would take to ruin that moment and stop me from getting my first kiss. And yet…
He let out an exasperated exhale, the only reassurance I would get that this was the moment he planned on kissing me.
Even if it was ruined.
“Go open it,” he told me. “Before Mama does. It’s important.”
I obeyed, but hesitantly, and made sure to give him every possible opportunity to stop me and continue what we started. He didn’t.
When I swung the bedroom door open, Mama was already on her way and I had to really put my heels to the test outrunning her without twisting an ankle. Even though Vitali explicitly told me to open it, I still looked out the peephole. Out of all things I expected, what I saw wasn’t one of them.
Five men. Five huge men in winter coats and various hats, none of them smiling and none of them looking too thrilled to be at my door.