Chapter Twenty-Three #2
"Twin!" I scream back because we're both idiots and we still scream like we're in seventh grade if we haven't seen each other in a while. We both know it's utterly mortifying behavior but neither one of us can stop ourselves.
"You fucking married Nikandr," she says. "You getting kidnapped, then married, then nearly shot to pieces was not on my bingo card this month."
"Yeah, I'm a married woman and this is fucking insane." I sink down on the chair behind my desk. Opening my snack drawer, I pull out a bag of Cheetos.
"I think I heard most of the story," she says. "We both know Alexsey's version and yours will be completely different so let's hear it, start to finish."
Two bags of Cheetos later, I finish with my broken wind chimes and sleeping in the guest room. And she whistles. "Well, damn. I thought my introduction to a Morozov marriage was a little abrupt but yours is fucking ridiculous."
"Right?" I say, ripping open a new bag. Yes, this is going to be a three-bag morning.
I need the Flaming Hot Cheetos now that I've told her about our hate sex in the elevator and the bathroom.
My fingers are already coated in orange and at some point, I'm going to have to stand up and brush the crumbs off my suit.
"He wanted a kiss on the cheek this morning before I left for work! It was freakish, and unnatural."
"I think the first thing that is required," she says, "is lunch with Ava and Violet. If there's coping devices that I don't have, they certainly will. We're gonna talk this through. I love you."
"I love you," I say, "but I've got so much work to do."
"We're going to talk this through, Caroline!" she snaps. "It's not like you're going to be able to concentrate on anything feeling the way you do and didn't you come home from this trip early because of the whole shooting thing? Your staff will be fine. The hotel will be fine."
"Have I ever mentioned how cute it is when you steamroll me into submission?" I ask.
"Noon. My place," she says sternly before ending the call.
***
We all show up at Liria's, bodyguards in tow.
The twins are asleep, but I get a blissful moment of rolling around on the floor with Ava's adorable baby Lev before he's carried off for a nap.
It's a warm day and Liria has a big lunch laid out on the table on their terrace.
There's a bucket of champagne there, and another ice bucket holding a bottle of sparkling water.
"Okay, who are we toasting?" I look around sternly and Violet caves instantly.
"No, this is your day! We don't need to talk about me."
"You need to know that is such a feeble attempt at misdirection," I look at her with my "I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed" look. "Spit it out!"
A huge grin spreads over Violet's face and I see why Roman adores her.
When she's joyful, she is incandescently beautiful.
"I'm pregnant!" she says happily. "I was hoping I could get pregnant in time to have babies the same age as Liria's twins, but…
" She gives me a sly smile, "Maybe you and I can produce some adorable little cousins around the same time. "
"Oh, sweet Lady Gaga no!" I gasp, eyes wide with horror.
"Relax," she laughs. "I totally understand not wanting to get knocked up in the first week of your marriage to Nikandr."
"Let's all have a toast," Liria says as Ava opens the two bottles. "Then we'll get down to business. We're gonna talk this left turn of yours into What the Hell Just Happened-Ville all the way through."
***
Everyone's plates and champagne glasses are empty by the time I finish re-telling the whole tragic episode in Moscow.
"These men are very good about convincing you to marry them," Ava says. "Dmitri and I got married in St. Petersburg."
"Speak for yourself," Violet laughs. "Roman tricked me into signing a marriage license when I thought it was some grant paperwork. I didn't know we were husband and wife until a month later."
"I didn't even get convincing," Liria says sourly, and I squeeze her hand. "I got signed over with the rest of Dritan's assets. Admittedly, Alexsey has more than made up for it since, so I can't really hold a grudge."
"Oh, no," Ava says seriously. "You can hold a grudge as long as you like. Dmitri gives me shit about my Crisper of Hate-"
"Your what?" I'm laughing, clutching my champagne glass.
"My Crisper of Hate," she says. "I like to keep my grudges in there so they're nice and fresh. That way, I can be outraged all over again every time I take them out." Now, we're all howling as she takes a haughty sniff before finishing her cake.
"Okay, back to Caroline, here," Violet says.
"Did anyone see this coming? I get the whole proud history of the Moscow Six and their sinister influence and blah, blah, blah, but Nikandr?
He's such a smooth bastard. I refuse to believe he couldn't have found another way.
Which means, he wants you. Really wants you. "
"What the hell are you talking about?" Despite the warmth of the sun on my back, I've got goosebumps going up my arms. "This is- this is a sham to keep those Moscow Bratva guys happy!"
"Uh-huh," Ava says doubtfully. "I just talked to Dmitri before lunch. He said he'd checked in with Nikandr to give him crap about the hasty wedding and he said that Nikandr looked happy."
"Oh, that can't be right," Liria says, "Alexsey claims that the only times he's seen Nikandr happy are when he's torturing someone or eating cake."
I flash back to him taking those little marzipan cakes away from me before I shoved the whole dessert box in Vasilisa's arms.
"Torture or cake?" I shake my head. "He's even more of a psychopath than I thought. I thought it was disturbing enough when he thought my folded underwear was normal."
"Who the hell folds their underwear?" Ava says. "Also, I suspect Nikandr's correct diagnosis would be a sociopath."
"Wait," Violet says. "Who did he say moved your things?"
"Someone named Delores," I say, still stuck on torture, or cake.
She pats my hand. "Oh, honey. I'm sorry. She's in her mid-thirties, he made it sound like she's a sweet, grandmotherly type. She's crazy about him. And he sent her to move your things? I'm relieved she didn't lace your bras with poison."
I lightly touch my bra strap. "What?"
"That's a bad joke," Liria says sternly. "But I think you need to address this with Nikandr. I know how important those windchimes are to you. It's cruel that she broke them."
"My windchimes aside," I say, arranging and rearranging my silverware. "How am I going to survive this bizarre excuse for a marriage?"
Liria smiles malevolently. "Exactly the way you have been. Keep beating him at poker."
"What?"
"No, she's right," Ava says. "Nikandr's used to getting what he wants. You took something away from him that night and I'm guessing that's when he became fascinated with you. Don't make it easy for him. Stand your ground."
"Exactly!" Liria slaps the table. "You're no pushover. Insist on continuing to do what's important to you while you figure out… uh…" she looks at the others before waving her hands awkwardly. "While you and Nikandr figure out what this is."
"Also," Violet gets up and comes back with a dessert box.
"Feed him cake. I'm not kidding. He wanted the marzipan wedding cake at our wedding so badly that he told my sister Iris that he was going to throw a grenade into the woods to distract everyone so he could take a chunk of the cake.
I think he ate one of the layers all by himself. "
I look down at the box, filled with little cupcakes covered in green marzipan. "Do I want to give him cake? I don't think I like him."
"The elevator and the safe house bathroom say differently," Liria grins as I flush a painful red.
***
Author’s note: I really do have a Crisper of Hate, a phrase my husband came up with for my ability to hold a grudge longer than an angry llama. And those furry bastards can really hold a grudge.