Chapter Twenty-Nine
In which there is girl talk and ghost guns. Both are deeply satisfying.
Oksana…
"I can't take this anymore," Anka says. "I'm either coming back to Chicago, or you're returning to Moscow.
Because there is no one here for me. Do you hear me?
" Her tone is desperate, a little strident and I completely understand why.
"Jesus Christ, one of the other girls asked me if I'd had my interview with the Broker yet, and I almost wet myself in fear. "
Brachnyy posrednik may be the old ghoul's official title, but for those of us whose lives could be destroyed by her, she's known as the Broker. She spawns nearly every arranged marriage in Bratva society. I'm still not sure how Vadim and I escaped her.
I'm balancing on one foot, trying to haul my high heeled boots on.
"Oh, I don't blame you," I agree fervently.
"When Mother told me that she'd spoken to the Broker?
I've never known what they meant by the phrase, 'my blood ran cold' until that second.
I thought my blood had congealed in my veins, and I was about to have a stroke.
"Yeah, "Anka says crossly. "I hate it here."
"Your father doesn't seem all that obsessed with marrying you off," I say, trying to sound supportive. "Kirill's coming home after overseeing your South African diamond mines, right?"
"True," Anka says, her tone brightening. "He should keep Dad busy for a while. The mine's output doubled under Kirill's watch. Polina's been walking with a stoop, she can barely keep her neck up."
"Your stepmother?" I ask. "Why?"
"She's weighed down by an enormous diamond necklace and earring set," she chuckles. "I swear it weighs more than your average toddler."
"Speaking of which," I say, "weren't they going to have more kids? I thought Polina was all excited to experience the joys of motherhood for herself."
"Not after she discovered the joys of shopping.
Flying to exciting international cities, and seeing nothing but the inside of every luxury goods shop," Anka says cynically.
"I don't hold it against her. Father can afford it.
She's enjoying herself. And I don't have to compete with extra children. It's a win-win."
"That's very noble of you," I say.
"I know, right?" she preens. "Hey, speaking of Kirill, did you see that weird-ass moment he had with your cousin Rose at the wedding reception?"
"I wasn't really mentally present during most of the wedding reception," I admit. "So, my memory is somewhat spotty. Why?"
"Well, half a dozen of Bratva's finest unattached males tried to get her to dance, and she refused," she says happily.
Anka loves gossip only slightly less than espresso martinis.
"Then, I turned around and she was on the dance floor with Kirill, and he's whispering something in her ear.
She slapped him. I mean, it was a crack you could hear halfway across the room, and then she stormed off. "
"Really?" I'm a little shocked. "I thought your brother was a gentleman. That sounds like pretty douchey behavior."
"You know, he's been gone for so long, first at Cambridge University, and then down in South Africa, that I've rarely seen him in action," she says thoughtfully. "Maybe he's just turned into an asshole in his old age."
"Isn't Kirill thirty?" I ask, laughing. "Not exactly ready for retirement."
"Anyway," she says, moving on. "What are you doing today?"
"I'm very excited," I admit, wrestling my last boot on, and chucking my hair and makeup in the mirror. I'm wearing a dark green sweater dress with brown boots. "Vadim is taking me to see his work project for the first day of production."
"Exciting," she says approvingly. "Do we have any idea yet what the hell it is that he's actually producing?"
"Not a clue," I admit. "I've been making friends with Ivan, his Second.
I swear, he almost slipped the other day, mentioning something about some huge 3D printers.
He stopped mid-sentence when Vadim gave him such a look that it's a miracle Ivan wasn't disassembled back into his elemental parts from it.
I was terrified there would be nothing but chunks of Ivan quivering there on the floor. "
"You do remember that your husband's scary as shit?
" Anka points out. "Did you see how many people at your wedding party were kind of holding back and were then shoved towards your reception line by the crowd behind them?
Half your guests were dying to get a look at the two of you, and half of them were terrified that Vadim might look them in the eye, and they would explode into flame. "
"Yes, that sounds like Vadim," I agree. "If you could come back soon, I'd love it. I think the cousins are coming from New York for a visit. I'll have to ask Rose what Kirill did. Although it is possible Rose did something."
"That seems unlikely," Anka says. "Remember when we had dinner together before your wedding? She said she was swearing off men because every one of her boyfriends had been so skeevy."
"Her track record is not strong," I agree. "At least she gets to select her husband, unlike everyone else we know."
"Well, now I'll have to hold Kirill down and get him to tell me what he said to her," Anka says. "Maybe he's lost any concept of good manners after playing diamond miner for the last two years."
"I have faith that you'll civilize him," I say dryly. "It is your job to humble him with a mix of manipulation and cruelty before he becomes Pakhan and really becomes a dick."
"That is the big switch, isn't it?" she says. "Here in Moscow, Nikolai's been acting sort of statesman-like and responsible-seeming recently. Do you think he's edging towards the crown?"
I let out a bitter snort. "I can't picture Father stepping down until they carry his dead body out from behind his desk."
"Vivid image," Anka says. "I'm willing to support that vision, because your father's an asshole." There's a short pause. "Is it okay if I call your father an asshole?"
"Well, he is," I shrug. When did I stop being afraid of him? Did marrying Vadim help me grow a backbone?
Looking out the window, I can see Vadim's Maserati pull up to the front of the house and I give a little skip of excitement that instantly embarrasses me.
"Hey, I have to go. He's here." I snap a quick selfie.
"Do I look like the well-bred wife of the Turgenev Vor?
I want to look good in front of his employees. "
"Honey, you're capable of faking the well-bred part for as long as it takes," she snickers. "Seriously, you look great. Love you, bye!"
"Bye," I echo.
Hurrying down the stairs, I see Vadim waiting for me in the hallway.
Can any man be more handsome? Now that we're into December, the cold sweeps over Lake Michigan with a vengeance sending polar blasts in every direction.
So, he's wearing his black cashmere overcoat that I love, it makes him look like a gentleman, though he's certainly not one.
He runs a slow visual scan over my outfit and gives me a little crooked smile.
"Do I look okay?" I ask, smoothing my dress down.
"Wife, you look so beautiful that I'm very unhappy that I can't stop to take you on the nearest horizontal surface." Now, the heat in his gaze feels like a sunburn.
"Well, now you're just flattering me," I say, preening a little.
Letting out a sigh, as if he's genuinely unhappy to have to leave the house, Vadim turns me towards the back. "Isn't the Range Rover up front?" I ask.
"We're not taking it today," he says.
"Oh, are we riding the horses?" I laugh. "Your mysterious compound must be closer than I thought."
Then, I hear the sound of blades cutting through the air. The sound of a helicopter, that rapidly escalates into a roar as it hovers before landing on a large section of the grounds opposite the stables.
"We have a helicopter pad?" I ask.
After watching massive Lake Michigan glitter in the winter sun, I check my headset, and turn to Vadim. "Why is it that we're flying today?"
He puts my hand on his thigh. It's warm and firm, and I can feel his muscles flex as he shifts. It's doing things to me.
Everything about my husband does things to me.
"We picked up a tail the last couple of times we left the house, heading for the lab," he says. "I don't want to have to bother with evasion movements today."
We're flying over farmland now, and there's a large, stubbled field coming up. In the center is a long, low building that looks like some sort of processing plant.
"Please tell me you don't have a slaughterhouse!" I plead. "We're not going to watch terrible things happen to cows, are we?"
I can feel his smile against my knuckles as he kisses them before very gently nipping at the tip of my index finger. "No. Nothing to do with farm animals."
Once we're out of the helicopter and walking closer to the facility, I can see the subtle differences. None of the equipment is associated with livestock and up close, the building feels featureless and blank. When we walk inside, though, I get it. Part of it, at least.
"Those 3D printers are massive," I say. The printers, and the production lines that go with them are scrupulously clean and perfectly organized. Three women in lab coats are waiting for us at the door of a computer lab, almost vibrating with excitement.
"Darling, this is my chief engineer Dr. Natalia Gregor, and doctors Clara James and Meg Forsythe. All PhDs and geniuses in their fields," he tells me before turning to the women. "I would like to introduce you to my new wife, Oksana Vasilieva Turgeneva."
"A pleasure." the women chorus. They seem a little startled when I hold out my hand to shake theirs, repeating their names to make sure I've got it right. If these women are important to my husband's project, then they will be important to me, too.
"Dr. Gregor, would you explain the process to my wife?" Vadim asks.
I like how he says that. "My wife." With a certain emphasis that makes me think he enjoys saying it as much as I enjoy hearing it.