Chapter Forty-Six
In which Justice is dealt.
Andrey…
It's been hours since we went into Elana’s grotesque baby factory. Perhaps she hasn't yet received the news yet that the girls didn't make it to their destinations. Perhaps she has.
She's arrogant enough that, either way, she’s hosting a dinner party at her Scarsdale mansion.
I allow the guests to leave before moving in. Many are drunk, and several insist on driving. The blissful arrogance of wealth. Elana spends a little time shouting abuse at her staff before ascending her sweeping staircase.
Her husband sleeps on the opposite side of the mansion in a separate wing. Of course. Elana strolls to her suite, humming as she takes out her earrings. When she turns on the light, I'm waiting in a chair by the window.
"I believe we have something to discuss."
Her scream is shrill. For a woman who is involved in profoundly evil activities her security was surprisingly light. And now they’re dead. The arrogance of being a Supreme Court Justice has made her think that she's invulnerable.
"You hurt my wife," I say, calmly, mildly.
She's frozen, shaking in her glittering dress, like any cornered vermin.
"I don't know what you're talking about." It's an impressive attempt at sounding innocent, but she knows she's cooked. In fact, cooking might become part of my plan for her.
Standing, I stroll towards her, hands in my pockets.
"You hid your tracks well," I say conversationally.
"I had thought you were selling women as domestics.
I just couldn't find the proof. Not enough, anyway.
But a baby factory… That is the height of depravity.
" I whistle long and low. "Then you truly fucked up by kidnapping my wife and her sister.
By gloating over her pregnancy. If Iris suffers any complications, I cannot begin to tell you how you will suffer. "
Elana's red lipsticked mouth, garish against her pale skin, is slack and trembling. "I didn't. I - no, you’re wrong!"
"Shut up. It is past time for talking. You have been judged. Your sentence will be a long one."
Sedating her would be practical, but less fun. I hook my arm around her throat, tracking her pulse and pupil response carefully. She doesn’t get to die before she suffers every second of pain and fear that can be drawn out of her.
She collapses like a bag of wet cement. I let her lay at my feet for a moment and consider throwing her out of the window, into the gleaming, neon blue of her pool. If she woke, I could keep pushing her back under for a long time before she drowned. But that would be too fast.
Tossing her over my shoulder, I jog down her stone terrace steps, ensuring she will wake in pain as well as in terror.
When Elana regains consciousness, she's not alone. Carlisle Sinclair snores, handcuffed in the chair next to hers, drooling. We moved them to one of our family summer homes, in an area that is very quiet this time of year.
"Release me!" she screams, her bravado back.
"I am curious," I say. "At what point in your life do you become so arrogant that you can't contemplate anything less than absolute immunity for anything you do?
When you were elected to the bench? When you started selling girls and babies?
Those days are over, but don't worry, you're not dying yet. "
She screams again, her heels drumming frantically. “Get me out of these cuffs!"
The noise wakes up Carlisle. His head snaps back with a jerk, "Huh." Awkwardly wiping his face on his shoulder, he blearily looks around.
"I had to sedate him," Nikandr says sourly. "Why did you get to kidnap the skinny one? I had to knock him out and then pick his giant ass up and drag him down the stairs."
"Sorry, brother." My apology is insincere, and he knows it. "I'll make it up to you."
"How?" he demands.
"I'm certain you'll fuck up somehow, quite soon. And it will be left to me to clean it up, just like our childhood."
Nikandr makes a noise of disgust, sourly folding his arms.
Trofim opens the door, "Excuse me gentlemen, the Pakhan… I mean, the Pakhans are here."
Dmitri walks in, perfectly suited despite the hour, with a look on his face that could freeze lava. Uncle Maksim enters after him. A terrifying pair.
Oddly, Carlisle perks up. "Maksim!" he shouts. "Your family has gotten completely out of hand. In the old days when we did business, there was none of this bullshit. Tell them to let me go, eh?" His face is red, and he's leaning forward as far as his bonds will allow him. "We’ll make a deal."
"You misunderstand," Uncle Maksim says, picking a bit of lint off his suit and flicking it away. "I’m merely here to enjoy the show. You were always an avaricious piece of shit, Sinclair. Nothing more."
"Are you confident in the arrangements?" Dmitri asks. He knows I'm confident. He knows I'm meticulous.
"Yes, Pakhan.”
"Do you feel that you are recompensed for this crime?" I hear the intensity in his low tone, knowing that he feels the same rage I do. I smile, broadly. Even in ice-cold Pakhan mode, Dmitri looks unsettled.
"Oh, yes."
Both of them plead, alternating with each other, demanding their release, frantically offering money, or power, anything. We endure it for a full three minutes until there is another knock on the door.
"Your guests are here," Trofim intones. He's stiff, not liking the variables of two potentially explosive crime families being here.
Valentin and Sofia Kuznetsov enter first. Fortunately, they were vacationing in the States and could arrive quickly.
When I called Valentin and told him what we'd discovered, he told me no power on Earth would keep them from being here.
They're a beautiful couple, though remote.
Sofia has a blankness in her eyes that can only come from the loss of a child.
Elana catches sight of them. She lets out an involuntary whimper, and I suspect she's beginning to understand her fate.
Three men walk in after the Kuznetsovs. They're not nearly as welcome, but I'm willing to tolerate them for now.
"Good evening, Mr. Morozov." The speaker steps forward with his hand out. He's dignified, wearing an impeccable suit. He shakes our hands politely. "I am Yǔxuān, Liu Lìxīn’s representative this evening."
The other two are boorish, Damyan Naydenov's sons, both fond of donning mobster chic; two-thousand-dollar cashmere tracksuits and excessive gold chains. But the sight of them packs an extra punch for Carlisle, and he shrinks in his seat.
"I'm sure you all know each other, but allow me to make introductions in case you may not," I say courteously.
"Georgi and Dimitar Naydenov, of the Naydenov Mob, and our new associate Yǔxuān from the Lìxīn Triad.
You can imagine how eager they were to meet you personally after you'd stolen seven hundred and fifty million from them, as well as failing to keep your promises about the data center.
Your estate and your life will repay them. "
"No! No, no, I have a family, you know that." He's shaking his head frantically. "You can't -"
I like the associate from the Triad. He lands a quick, crisp backhand on Carlisle's face, shutting him up. "Hush," Yǔxuān says. "Your betters are speaking."
"Now, Elana, I'm certain that you are quite familiar with Valentin and Sofia Kuznetsov.
You stole their daughter Yelina, five years ago.
You forced her to give birth. After tearing through your records, we know who you sold the child to.
Yelina took her life when she was rescued, but you knew that, didn't you? "
Sofia's hands shake. Her husband puts his arm around her, and she leans against him like her knees are about to give out.
"Do you know one of the things that our Bratva is known for?
" Valentin asks. "Geriatric medicine. We have found ways to expand life far beyond what you think an aging body can endure.
" He smiles, as if he's been waiting his whole life for this moment.
It stretches wide across his face, showing all his teeth.
For a moment, he looks more like a bear than a man.
"We will save our grandson. For you, there is no salvation." Sofia's emotionless voice is as terrifying as her husband’s smile.
Elana shakes her head. "No, you have the wrong woman. I- I would never do such a terrible thing." She ends with a squawk when Sofia grabs her chin, fingernails digging deep, and spits in her face.
"I believe negotiations are done?" I look at both groups, who nod. Elana and Carlisle’s protests are ignored, of course. "The level of suffering you two are about to face will be unparalleled in the history of organized crime."
Dmitri shakes hands with the grace of a seasoned Pakhan, already talking about future partnerships, the sly bastard. To the Kuznetsovs he only says, "It would be our honor to assist you in any way we can in safely retrieving your grandson."
The guards drag Elana and Carlisle from the room, as they scream, bargaining, still thinking they can save themselves.
"A pleasure to meet you, Andrey Morozov," Yǔxuān says, shaking my hand. "We must meet again to discuss business."
"It would be an honor," I say courteously. "Now I must return to my wife."
"I hope she is well," he says. I sense he knows exactly what happened earlier. He's smooth. I wouldn't mind working with him again. If I'm fortunate, he'll be high up in the Lìxīn Triad.
Before leaving, Sofia grasps my arm. I freeze. The contact is unwelcome, but I endure it. "Thank you. We cannot have our daughter back, but we'll have our grandson."
"I wish you a happy life," I respond, hoping that she'll take her hand off my arm. Her husband guides her away with a nod.
The room is silent, with only family left. I step out onto the balcony, taking a deep breath, letting the salt-tinged air fill my lungs. Surprisingly, Uncle Maksim follows. We watch the waves crash against the shore.
"Your Aunt Ella was kidnapped," he finally says. "It was one of the Sokolovs. She tortured my wife. I know what you felt tonight, what Iris and Rose went through. Allow yourself to move past this. It is not your fault."
"With respect, Uncle, it is," I say tightly. "My first responsibility as her husband, even above caring for her, is to protect her."
He turns his head, regarding me sternly.
Even now, as an adult, I can feel my shoulders curl in slightly.
"In this life, there will always be risk.
And you will protect her to the best of your ability.
If I were your father, I would wrap my arms around you now and pat you on the back.
" His thin mouth twists with distaste. "I would find that deeply uncomfortable. No offense."
"None taken.”
"Instead, I will tell you that I am proud of you, that we are all proud of you. That you are both a principled man and a vicious criminal." A ghost of a smile flits across his lips again. "In this life? It is the best of all things that a man can be. Good night."
"Good night, Uncle," I echo, watching him disappear through the door.