Chapter Eight #2
"He might not, but I will!" Violet snaps, racing over to pull Iris out of her chair and hug her. Iris buries her face in her big sister's neck and for a moment, my heart twists.
I ignore it.
The elevator door rings again and this time, it’s Dmitri and Nikandr, here to act as his Sovietnik. They're carefully expressionless, both in Bratva mode and ready to pronounce judgement once the arguments are made. Excellent. An extra brother on either side to act as mediators.
"Coffee, gentlemen?" I ask.
"We'll get our own," Dmitri says. Violet and Iris talk softly while the others grab a cup. I notice Roman adds a big splash of whiskey from the bar to his.
"Tell us what happened last night," Dmitri says wearily, sitting next to Roman. Nik moves over to my side of the table.
"Did you not ask me to procure a wife before the judicial hearings?"
"I did," he nods.
"A woman who's bright, charming, and understands our world?" I continue.
"That didn't mean kidnapping and marrying Iris!" Roman cuts in.
Dmitri holds up his hand. "Let him talk."
"I got a call from a detective in the Long Island police division last night, who told me that Iris had been booked into the county jail on four felony charges of receiving stolen goods, one count of a attacking a police officer-"
"I did not!" Iris snarls.
"And," I interrupt, "one count of attempted murder. You do understand that if those charges held, the D.A. would move heaven and earth to put Iris in jail," I say. "Bagging a Morozov is a hell of a win."
"She's not a Morozov- well, she's Morozov adjacent," Violet corrects herself.
"Iris is part of this family. She and Rose were taken in and accepted immediately." My tone hardens a bit. "Nothing has ever been asked of them, has it?"
"If I had known something like this was expected, I would have reconsidered Roman's proposal," Violet spits.
Roman sits back like he's been slapped, and even Dmitri winces.
"This is my worst nightmare." Violet's hands are shaking with fury and Iris scoots closer, squeezing her arm.
"I couldn't save Iris and Rose the first time our stepfather nearly sold us off to those insane old bastards, and now you're trotting out family duty.
" She looks up at a stricken Roman and her eyes flood with tears.
"I'm sorry. I didn’t mean it like that."
"Don't be," he says, sweeping her onto his lap and putting his other arm around Iris's shoulders. "Don't be. We've been in this life forever. You haven't."
"None of this changes the fact that Rose and Iris continued their little crime spree, protected by the Morozov Bratva," I continue, ignoring this sweet little tableau. "You enjoyed the advantages of being a Morozov, did you not?"
Iris wants to spit fire, her eyes are blazing gold and amber, but my words silence her. There's shock there. A little horror. Humiliation.
"I saved Iris from spending twenty years behind bars," I say. "Well, if she'd survive that long. We have quite a list of enemies."
She makes a noise. Not a whimper or a sigh, more pained.
"Iris… fuck." Roman drops his head, staring down into his coffee. "We had this discussion after Violet's and my anniversary party, didn’t we? I told you and Rose that you had to stop. But you didn’t."
"I- I didn't try to kill anyone or attack a police officer!" Iris's eyes are wide now, she's feeling the direction this conversation is taking.
"Putting yourself in any position where the police can pick you up is taking a risk," Dmitri says heavily.
"Someone set me up," Iris says, mutinous. "The police were on us within five minutes, they were waiting."
Nikandr sighs. "So, you were already being targeted. This isn't good. Someone had enough pull to get those bullshit charges added."
"I'll stop- I'm sorry Violet," Iris looks at her sister. "I'm so sorry, V. It was stupid."
Violet's eyes fill with tears. "You and Rose told me you stopped."
"I'll give back all my share, my savings," Iris babbles. "I could pay back some of the money you've spent on us, at least."
Dmitri leans over the granite island, patting Iris's hand. "I know this is overwhelming. But what we know so far is that someone is dedicated to putting you in jail. As much as I disapprove of Andrey's high-handed bullshit -" He glares at me, "There is no safer position than as a Morozov wife."
"Brother- Pakhan," Roman corrects himself. Dmitri is not here as his brother right now. "With all respect, this is still insane. It's manipulative and cruel. Iris is twenty.”
Violet's phone chimes. When she opens the notification, her eyes nearly bulge out of her sockets. "What is this! How do they have this so soon?"
Iris looks over her shoulder before abruptly sitting down again, her hand over her mouth.
"What the hell is this, Andrey?" Violet thrusts her phone at me accusingly.
It's Page Six.
How can this happen? So many gorgeous Morozov men have been taken off the market in just a couple of years!
It's just not right. The last man to fall into matrimony is Andrey Morozov, who is rumored to be taking Judge Kenton Blackburn's position on the New York State Supreme Court.
He'll be a judge, and now, a married man.
Let's admit it, we never thought Andrey would tie the knot but it happened in private last night in Judge Tamara Martinez's chambers.
There are two pictures there, one, with us posing with Tamara in her judge's robes. The other picture is of Iris and me. Her head is tilted up, my finger under her chin and my lips on hers. It looks far more passionate in the photo.
Who's the lucky girl? Word is that she's a close family friend, Iris Monroe, a Marketing major at Columbia University. How did this whirlwind romance begin? Andrey is notoriously private, so we may never know.
Congratulations to the happy couple!
Roman looks up from his wife's phone screen. "Did you leak this to pressure us? Because now I am really going to kill you."