Chapter 12 #3
“Let’s go have tea at the house,” Elif suggested as we walked toward the exit.
Maria gently shook her head, stopping once more in front of her son’s grave, “I’m going to stay a little longer before heading back.
Alina is waiting for me,” she declined softly as Elif’s smile widened at the mention of her friend’s daughter.
“That’s right! Her birthday is coming up soon, isn’t it?
” she exclaimed, clasping Maria’s hands and Maria nodded.
“Yes. We’re preparing a small celebration for her.
Already sixteen, can you believe it?” she sighed, shaking her head nostalgically.
Elif laughed, rubbing her arm, “they grow up so fast. Look at this one,” she said, jerking her chin toward me as I raised an amused eyebrow.
“He barely reached my hip, and now he’s twice my height,” she chuckled, making Maria laugh as well.
“Call me if you need anything at all for the birthday,” Elif told her before pulling her into a hug and Maria nodded again, “I’m warning you, I’ll take you at your word.
With all the contacts you have, everything will be sorted in no time,” she teased.
They said their goodbyes and I stepped aside to let Elif pass and nodded to Maria, who smiled back.
I followed my sister toward the exit as I scanned our surroundings, making sure everything was in order.
Marcus, standing near the car with Samy, gave me a sign that it was.
“Elif!” Maria suddenly called out and my sister-in-law turned back to look at her friend, now a few meters away.
“Don’t forget the list of caterers for…” a loud crack tore through the air, birds perched in the trees took flight as two more sharp sounds followed the first. Gunshots.
The unmistakable sound of a sniper rifle.
The shots were fast, too fast but Maria Vasilkova’s body collapsed to the ground almost in slow motion before our eyes.
I tried to grab Elif’s arm to pull her behind me until the threat was neutralized, but she was already running toward her friend.
“Maria!” she screamed, her voice tearing from her throat and I followed, weapon in hand.
The bodyguards rushed toward the direction of the shots while others surrounded us, forming a security perimeter.
Marcus and Samy closed in as Elif dropped to the ground, lifting her friend’s body.
“Maria! Maria, I’m here, it’s going to be okay,” she pleaded as Maria gasped in her arms. My sister-in-law gently turned her friend’s body, searching for the wounds, and I grimaced when I saw the three holes torn through her dress.
She was losing an alarming amount of blood.
“Elif…” Maria whispered, Elif screamed for an ambulance one had already been called.
“It’s going to be okay, moya sestra, hold on,” Elif said, stroking her friend’s face, her eyes shining with tears.
“Is this… is this what my Vlad felt before he died?” Maria murmured, blood beginning to spread across the stone tiles as her gaze drifted to her son’s grave just at our feet.
“It’s… it’s horrible,” she sobbed and Elif sobbed with her, shaking her head.
“You’re not going to die, Maria. You’re not going to die!
” she cried, kissing her friend’s forehead, her hand gripping Maria’s tightly.
My jaw clenched as I saw Maria’s body twitch.
That wasn’t good, not good at all. “Where’s the fucking ambulance?
!” I barked, rising to my feet and two guards ran toward the exit.
“Elif…” Maria breathed, weaker now as I knelt beside my sister-in-law, placing a hand on her back.
If Maria died, nothing would ever be the same again, not for Elif, not for the Bratva.
“I’m here. I’m here, my friend,” Elif whispered, tightening her hold around Maria’s shoulders as blood stained her white dress.
“Pro… promise me you’ll watch over my daughter. Protect my Alina,” Maria murmured.
Elif shook her head, crying, and I closed my eyes, unable to bear the sight. “No… you’ll take care…” Elif began, her voice breaking. “Promise me,” Maria insisted, squeezing Elif’s hand.
They exchanged a long look, one that perhaps reflected eighteen years of friendship, eighteen years of war endured side by side, eighteen years of a shared destiny.
“As if she were my own,” Elif promised firmly, her dark gaze locked onto her friend’s.
“Thank you, moya sestra. Thank you for everything,” Maria smiled as a thin line of blood slipped from the corner of her mouth, as the ambulance sirens wailed in the distance.
“I’m going to hold Vlad and Elena close to me now.
” Elif sobbed “Maria, no…” she cried but her friend closed her eyes, defeated.
—
I draped my jacket over Elif’s shoulders as we waited outside the operating room.
My jaw clenched again at the sight of the blood stains on her dress, her ashen complexion, her vacant eyes.
She didn’t react to my gesture either, her hands, freshly scrubbed clean of her friend’s blood, were folded on her lap, her gaze fixed on the wall in front of her.
I had stopped her from getting into the ambulance, pulling her back toward the car.
There was no way I was letting her out of my sight.
And she hadn’t spoken a single word since we arrived at the hospital.
Rapid footsteps made me lift my head, and relief washed over me when I saw my brothers arriving.
“Elif,” Grigori murmured as he dropped to his knees in front of her, his eyes lingered for a brief second on the dried blood before he cupped her face in his large hands.
“Elif,” he repeated and at last, his wife’s gaze detached itself from that damned wall and settled on her husband.
“Oh, Grigori…” she suddenly sobbed, throwing herself into his arms and he held her tightly as she collapsed against him.
“They… they shot her in the back, Grigori! Three bullets in the back! Those cowards!” she cried, pouring her rage into his chest. He kissed the top of her head, stroking her hair.
“She’s going to make it, isn’t she?” she sniffled.
Grigori looked over her shoulder at me and I pressed my lips together and slowly shook my head.
Maria’s chances of survival were slim. She had lost far too much blood; one bullet had punctured her lung, another had struck her liver.
Roman sat down beside Elif, gently rubbing her back, his eyes reflecting our sister-in-law’s pain.
When Grigori didn’t answer her question, Elif broke down completely in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
Which, in itself, was an answer. Nikolai joined me, his dark gaze fixed on Elif.
“Did you corner the shooter?” he asked quietly and I shook my head.
“He was gone by the time our men reached the apartment where he was positioned,” I replied, my hatred growing by the second.
“The target was Maria. If it had been Elif or me…” I didn’t finish the sentence.
The rest was obvious. If we had been the targets, they would have killed us.
We hadn’t expected a long-range attack in a cemetery.
The topography didn’t allow it, especially with the density of the vegetation.
I didn’t know how that son of a bitch had managed it but we would find out soon enough, once we got our hands on him.
One of those bullets could just as easily have hit Elif.
She could have bled out in my arms in that cemetery.
She could have been the one fighting for her life in the operating room right now.
“Mama!” a voice suddenly echoed down the hallway as Alina Vasilkova appeared at the far end, followed by her father.
Elif stood up quickly, wiping her tears as Maria’s daughter hurried toward us.
Her red hair, braided down her back, swayed as she moved.
Her pale eyes widened at the sight of blood on Elif’s dress.
“Is… is that my mother’s blood?” she asked, her lips trembling and Elif didn’t answer.
She simply pulled the girl into her arms, holding her tightly as they both began to cry.
“Is there any news?” Yaroslav Vasilkova asked, Maria’s husband stared anxiously at the bloodstained dress.
“They took her into emergency surgery,” I told him.
“She lost a lot of blood, and vital organs were hit.” My tone was enough for him to understand that he should prepare for the worst. His gaze shifted to his daughter in Elif’s arms, and I saw pure despair in his eyes.
Yaroslav was a strict but good man. He knew exactly what awaited his daughter if Maria didn’t survive.
A Vasilkova had to represent the family at the council, regardless of age.
And Alina was the only woman of that name after her mother.
A child at the council. A child among lionesses.
An hour later, the doors to the operating room opened, and a doctor stepped out. “How is my mom?” Alina asked, rushing toward him, Elif right behind her and the doctor looked at them both, then at us, his face dark, lips pressed tightly together and I understood immediately.
Maria was dead.
And nothing would ever be the same again.
Sienna
A heavy atmosphere had settled over the house for two days now, since the death of Elif’s closest friend.
I had met Maria a few times. We had even had lunch together once when Elif invited her over.
She was a woman of great kindness and intelligence, and the way she spoke with Elif revealed years of deep friendship.
A friendship that had ended in a cowardly attack, the most cowardly way possible, in one of the most cowardly places imaginable.
A mother standing at her child’s grave, shot three times in the back, before her friend’s eyes.