Chapter Twenty-Nine
In which one of the most vicious criminals in New York becomes a Supreme Court Justice. We all enjoy the irony.
Andrey…
"Trofim, what happened?" Iris stops short outside my new chambers at the sight of my puffy-faced Second. The hives are particularly bad this time, creeping up his neck and a few angry-looking ones on his cheek. He reeks of calamine lotion and resentment.
"It's just a little skin issue, Mrs. Morozova," he says, gazing at me reproachfully.
"I have a really good dermatologist." She gently pats his arm and I'm surprised at how much I don’t like it. "I'll text you his number. And sometimes, you can use hypnosis for chronic flare ups. My friend Frieda did it and it was really-"
"Darling, perhaps we can discuss Trofim's repellent skin issues after my swearing in ceremony." I kiss her temple. "I understand the governor is getting impatient."
"Oh! Sorry." Iris smooths my lapels, the feel of her hands on me is grounding.
"You have a very judicial air about you.
" She goes up on tiptoe, leaning in close.
"But to be really honest? You look like a snack.
" She lightly snaps her teeth at me and I groan.
If I have to do this ceremony with an erection, I'm certain it'll kill half the audience.
The elderly lawmakers can't handle that kind of shock.
We're escorted to the Great Hall in the center of the building.
It's a two-story space, Neoclassical architecture with marble columns lining the front and back of the hall.
There's a raised dais in front where Governor Stone will conduct the ceremony.
Someone, Jessica, I suspect, has gone overboard with flower arrangements, and the stage is covered with them.
The hall echoes with a hundred different conversations, speculative whispers, and everyone turns to stare when I take Iris's hand, helping her up on to the dais.
The swearing-in ceremony has received so much attention that every seat is filled, with guests spilling between the granite pillars and out every exit into the hallway.
The head of the Capitol police is a smart man in his sixties who's seen everything.
He requested a meeting with me regarding security issues and sighed after a couple of minutes when it was clear I wasn't going to address any direct threats because of my position in the Morozov Bratva.
"Can you send over your head of security?
I'll coordinate with him." Smart man. He knew his officers couldn't cover the entire building without backup from my people.
So, standing on the elevated portion of the Great Hall, I see both his guards and my Bratva security roaming around together. Trofim catches my eye and winks. He, too, finds it amusing.
My family is all here, taking up the best seats, of course. Uncle Maksim and Aunt Ella are sitting in the front row. He nods at me and smiles proudly.
Did… Did Uncle Maksim smile? It must be a trick of light. My parents are sitting next to them. Mother is already tearing up and searching her purse for tissues, my father pulls out his handkerchief and hands it to her. Looking back at me, he slowly, deliberately mouths, We are so proud of you.
A Marshall formally calls the ceremony to order and the four sitting judges make their way into the audience, taking their seats on the front row, a solemn murder of crows in their black robes.
It's appropriate, since Elana's entire being shakes with the desire to murder me.
It seems she didn't enjoy our little gift of Ramon's head in a box at all.
Because it was found in her judicial offices, it required a formal investigation, which is the precise opposite of what she wants.
I suspect there was a lot of scrambling on her side to make sure the investigation led to a dead end.
Governor Marian Stone, camera-ready in a pristine white suit, steps forward, making a few short remarks. Then she turns to me with a wry twist to her mouth.
"Here we are, Andrey," she murmurs, an expert on making sure the mics don't pick up her voice. "I did not think I'd ever see the day when a man of your unique qualifications would take this role. But you are ideally suited for it."
I incline my head gracefully and Iris steps next to me, on cue, holding the family Bible. She had been a little insolent when my mother delivered it. "So, this big old thing really is more of a suggestion than a commandment with these guys, huh?" Mother howled with laughter at that.
Placing my hand on the Bible, I give her a quick smile. There's a certain amount of amusement in putting my hand on a collection of leather and paper that is meant to create a sacred bond. The only thing sacred in the Bratva is family. That said, I'll use whatever prop makes me look more judicial.
As Governor Stone recites the oath, I repeat the words in a calm, steady voice.
The words echo in the marble chamber and when we are finished, she steps back.
Iris turns to take my judicial robes, holding them up with a smile.
I slip one arm in, then the other, and she carefully fastens the front hook for me.
This is the moment I knew I'd enjoy. Turning to the other justices, I give a gracious nod.
Half of them are watching me with concern, or curiosity.
The others, with impotent fury. They hate that I know what they are.
They hate that I'm just as bad as they are, but more dangerous.
For the two justices left with some sort of innate decency, I'll treat them well.
Building alliances is crucial at any level of the law, and I fully intend to take advantage of it here.
I turn and look out over the rest of the audience, wearing my standard polite smile. I've perfected it since I was a teenager when I realized people were uncomfortable with my lack of expression. The applause is enormous and sustained, and the governor looks as surprised as I am by the enthusiasm.
Nikandr winks at me.
Power isn't specifically something I've ever felt.
I've felt control. I've felt dominance, and enjoyed it.
But standing here, wearing these robes as a Supreme Court Justice, I feel it.
This is more than just holding men's lives in my hand, or the future of their businesses.
This is something so much more. It takes all my effort to keep a feral grin from spreading across my face.
Finally, I look at Iris. So beautiful, smiling in that regal way that Jessica has drilled into her. Her amber eyes are glistening. My sweet wife is happy for me, even after everything I've put her through.
I get through the obligatory luncheon and cocktails as patiently as I can. This part is nothing new. The glad-handing, enemies shaking your hand when they're longing to drive a knife into your chest. What I want is to get Iris alone, back in my chambers, where no one would dare disturb us.
"How do you feel?" Marian walks over, holding a well-earned glass of scotch and still wearing that wry smile.
"I am looking forward to it," I say. There must be something in my tone, because her eyes narrow slightly. The governor is tough to frighten. She's dealt with every layer of bullshit that higher government could throw at her.
"You know, for some, having a powerful member of an organized crime family on the bench of the State Supreme Court would be unthinkable. Unimaginable." Her eyes are still scanning the crowd.
"And you?" I ask.
She looks at me directly, her dark brown eyes cold.
"You and I already know that answer. There are those so much worse than you on this bench.
" Marian sighs, taking a ladylike sip of her scotch.
"You, Andrey, at least operate by a code.
" Her gaze moves to the Judges Carrington and Brown, another slimy bastard, before moving back to me.
"There are some whose greed is so unimaginable that their limited concept of justice is a twisted one.
I hope you will be able to assist me in removing some of the rot from this bench. "
“I'll be happy to help you in any way I can," I promise. It's a surreal conversation to be having with the governor of the state.
The afternoon is finally ending as I shake hands with my brother and cousins, with a hug from Dasha that nearly knocks us off the dais. I lean down to accept kisses on the cheek from Aunt Ella and my mother. My father rests his hands on my shoulders, squeezing slightly.
"I'm not proud of you merely because you are a State Supreme Court Justice," he says.
"It's because you've achieved something none of us ever could.
The true irony here," he leans closer, "is that you will represent the Bratva's interests, of course.
But I'm also certain you'll be protecting the interests of the people of this state far more than your predecessor ever did.
" He laughs, his white teeth flashing in the afternoon light.
"It's the contradiction that I find so appealing. "
My grin is small, but it's genuine. "You know I've always appreciated your cynical sense of humor, Otets."
"I know, moy syn." He gives my shoulder one last squeeze before he walks away with my mother.
The hall is quieting, and Iris is standing next to Jessica, still politely shaking hands with some of the remaining guests.
When a lazy trust fund fuck shakes her hand and holds onto it a little too long, I stride over.
"Your Honor," he says with a pleasant, fake smile.
"I was just congratulating your beautiful wife.
" His emphasis on the word beautiful does not go unnoticed.
I intend to torch his collection of unimaginably rare and expensive race cars tonight for his insolence.
"Mm-hmm," I smile thinly. "And now you have. Goodbye." He takes the hint and moves on.
"His hand was sweaty," Iris says disapprovingly. "Can I borrow your rare and beautiful handkerchief?"