Chapter 2
Fifteen Years Ago…
E dmundo - Age 10
“Papa, can I stay here,” I whined, not wanting to leave the hotel room.
I didn’t like it here. It wasn’t like back home with the warm sun and bright blue ocean. The sky was grey, and the ground was covered in snow. I hated snow. The last thing I wanted to do was go to some business meeting with a bunch of Russians. I just knew this meeting was going to be boring, and I liked the people less than the weather. Papa said that they were always looking for ways to hurt our family. I hated anyone who wanted to hurt us.
“Edmundo, what did I say to you before we left home?”
I stuffed my hands in my jacket and looked at his shoes. “That this trip was non-negotiable.”
“And why did I say that?”
“Because I wouldn’t listen to Mama, and it was time I learned what it was like to be the man of the house.”
“And do you think whining about attending your first dinner meeting is very manly?” I shook my head. “Then let’s get going. We don’t want to be late for dinner.”
“Do I have to eat their food if I don’t like it?”
“I don’t care if you like it or not. You will eat whatever is served. You never disrespect a family or another culture by not eating a meal. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Papa.”
It was so cold outside that even in the car, I felt the chill coming off the window. The trip was shorter than I thought it would be, but it seemed like we were driving into the middle of nowhere. Other than the constantly falling snow, there was nothing but darkness. We slowed and pulled into a driveway barred by massive gates. The windows lowered, and our driver spoke to the guards. Armed soldiers, wearing matching grey coats and hats, walked around and looked in at me and Papa before checking the trunk.
“It’s fine, Edmundo. They’re just doing their job.”
“I’m not scared,” I said, which was a lie, but Papa didn’t call me out. His lip twitched up as the tinted windows closed, and a second later, the gates opened.
The driveway was long and winding. I leaned forward on the seat, and my jaw dropped as the house came into view. It was the biggest home I’d ever seen—much more like a palace. Little white lights decorated trees, while stone statues glittered with the blanket of snow that coated everything. Windows stretched as far as I could see, and they all glowed brightly.
“One day, son, you will be rich enough to afford a place like this. I see ambition in your eyes, and you’re far smarter than I was at your age. You can have whatever you want as long as you’re willing to work and sacrifice for it,” Papa said.
“Really?” I puffed out my chest. “I want to be a Don of Dons,” I declared.
He nodded, a smile on his face.
“Then aim to be the most powerful Don of Dons who has ever lived, and I promise that you’ll get there.”
I sucked in a deep breath and rolled my shoulders as I pictured living in a home like this and being in control of an area larger than what Papa had now.
The car pulled up in front of steps that led to large black and gold doors with a fancy M on each of them. Our driver came around to let us out.
“Does a king live here,” I asked quietly, staring at the castle before me. Papa chuckled.
“No, Edmundo. This is Mr. Mikhailov’s home,” Papa said. “Now remember, you are representing the Genovese name as much as I am. You behave, listen, and learn. Above all else, do not disrespect Mr. Mikhailov.”
“Yes, Papa.”
We climbed the stairs to the front doors, and I eyed the guards who stood on either side like statues. They swung open before we reached the top and we stepped into what felt like a totally different world. Everything around us looked expensive, from the furniture to the lights.
“Right this way, sir,” the man who had opened the door said. It was the first time I’d heard a Russian accent since we landed, and it was strange to my ears, like he was mad at us.
We walked down a hallway to an open door revealing a man sitting at his desk in the middle of the room.
“Sir, the last of your guests has arrived,” the servant said before he bowed and left.
“Alessandro, it is good to see you.” The man stood and approached us, smiling. My papa shook his hand and for all the bad things I’d heard him say, they greeted one another like best friends.
“Vadin, the feeling is mutual. Although, I would’ve preferred to have this meeting in the summer.”
Vadin laughed. “The cold toughens you.” He clenched his hand into a fist.
“I’m sure it does. But doesn’t a stiff drink by the pool sound better for a meeting? Next time you come my way. You’ll never want to leave paradise.”
“Deal. And who is this?” Vadin looked down at me.
Papa nudged my back, and I stepped forward, extending my hand.
“Mr. Mikhailov, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Edmundo,” I said, proud that I hadn’t stumbled over the practiced words.
Vadin’s eyebrow rose as we shook. “It is good to meet you, Edmundo.”
Running footsteps echoed down the hallway before someone dashed into the room behind us. Turning, I stared wide-eyed at a girl around my age who was busy smoothing her blonde hair away from her face. She curtsied, holding her blue dress out to the side.
“Father, dinner is served,” she said and twirled to run off.
“Yulianna.” She stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Do not be rude. Introduce yourself to our company.”
My heart ran full speed in my chest as she floated toward us as if she was on a cloud. Her blue eyes were as bright as a clear summer day.
“My apologies. I’m Yulianna,” she said, holding out her gloved hand to my papa. I had no idea why she was wearing the little white gloves when it was warm in here, but I watched as Papa introduced himself.
She turned those crystal blue eyes on me and pressed her lips together while looking me up and down. Was there something on my clothes?
“I’m Edmundo,” I said to stop her inspection and held out my hand.
She tapped her chin as she stared at me.
“You look like an Eddie. That is what I’ll call you,” she said like it was final, and I didn’t get a say about it before she shook my hand. “If you want something to eat, follow me.”
She walked away, but I didn’t move. Yulianna looked back. “Are you coming?”
I shook off the surprise, and caught up to her, my papa forgotten.
“Can I call you Ana?”
“No.”
“But you’re calling me Eddie.”
“Yes, but that’s because Eddie suits you. Ana doesn’t suit me.”
“Yes, it does.”
She lifted her nose in the air and glared at me. “No, it doesn’t. Don’t call me that again unless you want me to break your nose,” she threatened before walking into a massive room.
The table looked like it could fit a hundred people it was so long. People I didn’t know sat at one end. I smiled politely as I followed Ana to her seat. She gave me the same disapproving look as she sat down.
“Why are you sitting beside me?”
I shrugged.
“Why not?”
“Fine, I guess you can sit there,” Ana said.
There was something magical about Ana. I’d never met anyone like her.
Sitting down, I couldn’t stop staring. Even as the food was served and I ate, my eyes remained on Ana’s face. Her skin was so pale that she looked like one of the statues in the hallway and just as smooth. She glanced at me and then looked away, her bright blue eyes a color I’d never seen. Her blonde hair was deep gold, and I wanted to reach out to see if it was as soft as it looked.
Ana leaned close to me as the adults talked.
“Why are you staring at me like that? It’s creepy.”
“I wasn’t staring,” I said and forced myself to turn away. I poked at the food on my plate and wished I knew what it was.
“Yes, you were.”
“No, I wasn’t. I was just looking in your direction, not at you.”
Ana rolled her eyes. “Sure.” She looked at my plate and then pointed. “That’s roast goose. It’s really good. That’s a deviled egg. You’ll like those if you like eggs. That’s called pirozhki.”
“Pir…oz…hki,” I tried to pronounce it the way she had and failed. She smiled, making me feel stupid.
“That was close. It’s a pastry with stuff in it. This is potato and mushroom.”
“Oh…thanks,” I said and ate whatever she did. I was surprised when it tasted good, but it wasn’t like home.
For the rest of the meal, I made sure to only look at my plate or straight ahead. But I felt Ana watching me. As soon as dinner was done, she tapped my hand and smiled. My heart stopped completely.
“Want to sneak out?”
I glanced over at Papa, who was laughing at something her father had said. “Yes.”
“Follow me, but be quiet,” she said, sliding out of her seat and under the table.
None of the adults were paying attention to us. She touched my knee, and I jumped, my cheeks hot with embarrassment. No one seemed to notice my sudden movement. Setting my napkin down, I slowly slipped under the table, and Ana smiled wide. Holding a finger over her lips, she started to crawl away. What was I even doing? I was too old for this sort of thing. Yet here I was on my hands and knees, trailing after a girl I hardly knew like we were little kids.
Even after we reached the end of the table, Ana continued to crawl until we were out of the room and away from the open door. She giggled as we stood and reached out, snatching my hand to run.
Laughing, I looked down at our hands and then at Ana’s smiling face. Her long hair bobbed behind her, and something told me that this was the girl I was going to marry.
Yulianna – Age 9
We raced through my home, playing tag until we were out of breath. I led Eddie into the library, and his mouth dropped open.
“Wow, I’ve never seen so many books in one place,” he said as we walked through the room where I spent most of my time.
Father was always working, and Mama was busy looking after the house so the warm fire and the stories in the books had become my escape. Worlds filled with more than pretty smiles, curtsying for my father’s friends, and learning how to be a good wife. I didn’t want to get married.
Boys were so goofy and weird, but Eddie…seemed different. His hair was as dark as the night sky, and his eyes were grey like a stormy day, but his skin was tanned as if he spent all of his time out in the sun.
“Why are you staring at me now?”
“I’m not,” I growled, embarassed that he caught me looking at him.
“Sure, Ana,” he said, and I jerked my hand away from his.
“Don’t call me that.”
He smirked. “Ana, Ana, Ana.”
“I’m going to punch you,” I said, balling my hands into fists.
He laughed and ran up the stairs to the top floor of the library, but I was right behind him.
“Ana, Ana, Ana,” he yelled again, running behind the furniture and keeping it between us as he made faces at me.
I jumped onto the chair, and he sprinted away again, all the way around the room. As he started down the stairs, I climbed onto the wooden railing like I’d done a thousand times—even though my father hated it—and slid down right past Eddie.
He stopped and stared at me and then looked up at the top of the stairs.
“Can I do that?”
I shrugged and crossed my arms. “You still going to call me Ana?”
“Yes.”
I stomped my foot. “Then, no.”
“Too bad.”
He ran back up the stairs, making me angry. No one ignored me. I was Daddy’s princess.
“Stop, you can’t do that,” I said as he got on the railing and slid down with a happy yell.
“Then come stop me, Ana,” he said and ran across the library to the other set of stairs.
Sulking, I marched up to the second floor and glared at him as he ran up and slid down four more times.
“Come on, Ana, don’t be like that.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“No, I like it. It’s pretty like you,” he said. I pressed my lips together and walked toward him. He lifted a brow at me, and I didn’t like that he was taller and could look down on me like that.
“No, I’m not,” I said, and before he could run away again, I punched him right in the middle of his stupid face.
“Ouch.” Eddie stumbled back and fell on the floor, holding his nose. I covered my mouth as blood dripped through his fingers.
“Take that,” I said, but I felt terrible and ran to the box of tissues sitting on a table. Pulling a bunch out, I handed them to him. I expected him to be angry and nibbled my bottom lip. If he told my father, I’d be grounded for sure.
He moved his hands to take the tissues, and I saw two red lines coming from his nose. Guilt took over my annoyance. I’d never punched anyone before.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have hit you.”
“It’s okay,” he said and swung his legs over the side of the stairs, holding the tissue to his nose.
Sitting down beside him, I put my hand on his arm. He glanced at me but looked away, and my stomach rolled around.
“What’s it like where you’re from?”
He lifted his shoulder. “It’s beautiful. Warm, with really blue water. We live on a vineyard, so it is always busy with people. I love it, but my home is not as nice as yours.”
I looked around the library. “It’s not that nice. No one is ever here. I wish it was busy like that. What’s a vineyard?”
“It’s where grapes are grown.”
“You grow grapes? I love grapes,” I said, smiling.
Eddie nodded and pulled the tissue away from his face. It was bright red, and his skin was stained, but his nose had stopped bleeding.
“Yeah, we grow them for wine.”
I crinkled my nose. “I don’t like wine.”
Eddie smiled. “That’s because you’ve never had good wine.”
“Yulianna?” I sucked in a deep breath as our fathers walked into the room.
“Here,” I said and stood, panic making my heart race.
Eddie stood with me, and we walked down the stairs. It felt like we were walking the plank like in the pirate stories I read.
“What happened to Edmundo,” my father asked, and I swallowed hard. I opened my mouth to answer, but Eddie jumped in.
“It’s my fault, sir. We were playing tag, and I wasn’t paying attention and ran into a wall.”
Father narrowed his eyes, but Eddie stood tall, his face not giving anything away.
“Are you sure that’s what happened? My daughter has been known to act unladylike,” Father growled, and I shook.
“No, it was all me, sir, I swear. Yulianna was nice enough to get me tissues,” he said, holding out the evidence.
“Very well. Dessert is served and maybe no more running in the house,” Father said.
Eddie’s father looked at him and then at me, one eyebrow rising. I could tell that he thought Eddie was lying, but he didn’t say anything.
As we walked out, following our fathers, I glanced at Eddie.
“Why did you do that,” I asked. “You could’ve gotten me in trouble for hitting you.”
His lip pulled up as he touched his pinky finger to mine, but he didn’t answer. Smiling, I linked our fingers together, and the little butterflies that had been fluttering around in my chest soared. He really wasn’t like any of the other boys.