Chapter 12 #4
Elif hadn’t left her bedroom since returning from the hospital, her clothes stained with blood, her face haunted. I never would have imagined seeing Elif like this.
“You have to eat, Solnychko,” Nikolai insisted as my sister stared at her plate without appetite, “I’m not hungry,” she murmured and she wasn’t the only one.
Aside from Grigori and Elif, we were all seated at the table for breakfast, but no one managed to swallow a single bite.
Suddenly, the front door opened and we all turned toward the archway leading to the hall as footsteps approached.
“Tarik?” Roman said, standing up as Grigori and Elif’s eldest son entered the room.
Barely seventeen, he already had a man’s build despite his youthful face.
He was practically Roman’s double, the Ivanov genes at work.
“Uncle Roman,” he said, dropping his bag to the floor before hugging him.
“What are you doing here?” Sasha asked, embracing him next, followed by Nikolai, while I helped my sister to her feet.
“I heard about Maria,” he sighed, stepping closer.
“How are you, tiotouchka?” (auntie) he asked Selina, hugging her carefully as if afraid she might break.
It made me smile, he was adorable. “I’m fine, thank you, Tarik,” she replied, rubbing his back.
“And you did well to come. Your mother needs you,” she added, stepping back.
“And Alina too,” I murmured as he raised an eyebrow at me.
“Still as perceptive as ever, Aunt Sienna,” he muttered and I smiled, nudging his shoulder, which made him smile too.
I had seen the way he and Maria’s daughter looked at each other on the occasions they were in the same room, young love, quietly blooming.
“I didn’t want to miss Maria’s funeral,” he said softly, running a hand through his hair.
I recognized Sasha in that gesture, it was uncanny how much the Ivanov children resembled the adults. “She was like a second mother to me.”
“Where is Mom?” he asked, worry creeping into his voice.
“Still in her room?” Selina nodded sadly.
“Do you think she’ll be able to go to the funeral?
” he asked, referring to the ceremony scheduled for that afternoon, “I don’t know,” Nikolai sighed.
“She’s devastated. The last time I saw her like this was when…
when…” he stopped, closing his eyes. “My sister,” Tarik finished quietly, Nikolai nodded.
“I’m going to see her,” Tarik said at last, picking up his bag before heading down the hallway. I crossed my fingers, hoping he’d manage to pull his mother back from the edge. Because if he didn’t…
We were in serious trouble.
—
I draped the light black shawl over my sister’s shoulders, and she thanked me.
We were all gathered in the hall, dressed entirely in black, ready to leave for Maria’s funeral.
Everyone was there, except Elif. “I don’t think she’s coming,” Tarik said as he loosened his tie, his face dark.
“Give her a little more time,” Grigori replied, running a hand over his tired face.
Seeing his wife like this had to be just as painful for him.
Suddenly, the sound of heels echoed down the staircase.
Elif Ivanov descended in all her splendor, her hair perfectly waved down her back, her makeup concealing the dark circles beneath her eyes, her black dress impeccably pressed.
“Prepare and send the dishes I told you about to Ma…, Alina’s house.
Make sure they lack for nothing during the reception after the funeral,” she ordered Velma, who followed close behind.
Velma handed her sunglasses, which Elif put on.
“Selina stays home. Sienna doesn’t leave my side,” she added, her voice brooking no argument.
She lifted her hair as Velma placed a black coat over her shoulders.
“Let’s go,” she said, slipping her arm through her husband’s before walking out the front door.
I glanced at my sister, who looked at me in confusion and shrugged, Nikolai kissed her forehead before stepping outside. I followed, passing Sasha as he closed the door behind us.
“What’s going to happen?” I asked as we headed toward the second SUV, which we were sharing with Roman.
I knew something was coming, something dangerous enough for Elif to insist that my sister stay behind.
“I don’t know,” Sasha replied, opening the rear door for me as Roman slid into the driver’s seat.
“The only danger I see here is Elif,” he added once I was seated, his gaze locking onto mine.
“And we need to watch her back.” He closed the door.
Elif stood staring at the freshly piled earth that now marked her friend’s resting place, right beside her son’s grave.
My gaze drifted a few steps away, where a dark stain marred the pavement, the spot where Maria had fallen, shot three times in the back, at the foot of her child’s grave.
Alina’s sobs grew louder in Tarik’s arms as the guests began to leave one by one, offering condolences to Yaroslav.
Family and close friends started making their way toward the Vasilkova residence.
I ignored the sidelong glance Vassili cast at me as he headed for the exit.
I ignored him the same way I had ignored his presence throughout the entire ceremony.
He would never dare come at me in front of the Ivanovs, I had plenty to say myself if he opened the filth he called a mouth and he had far more to lose than I did.
The Ivanovs were the last to leave, alongside the Vasilkovas.
Nikolai spoke quietly with Yaroslav, while Tarik walked ahead, holding a visibly exhausted Alina against him.
Suddenly, my attention caught on a small group farther away, Vassili’s family, gathered in the shade of a tree.
I tensed slightly and to my surprise, Sasha’s hand settled against my lower back, as if he had sensed it.
I glanced at him and saw his gaze fixed straight ahead, so I mirrored him and said nothing.
Our group passed the small family and I noticed husband and wife locked in a heated exchange when Ksenia suddenly shoved Vassili aside and turned toward us.
“Elif,” she called out and Elif stopped.
Her head turned slowly toward Ksenia, and I swallowed hard.
The woman standing before me was nothing like the mother who cooked breakfasts for her children, nothing like the wife who seduced her husband at every opportunity, nothing like the sister who teased the Ivanov brothers.
Standing there was the queen of the Bratva.
And it was terrifying. She was fascinating and frightening all at once, like something irresistibly alluring, yet lethal to the touch.
“My condolences for your friend,” Ksenia said softly, a false compassion pasted onto her face, Vassili tried to grab her arm, but she shook him off and stepped closer to us.
My gaze flicked briefly to her daughter, barely twenty-two, and my blood began to boil when I saw the hatred blazing in her eyes as she stared at Elif.
“What a shame,” Ksenia continued, her hollow sympathy ringing false.
“She was so young” she stopped in front of Elif as I felt the tension spike.
My eyes met Vassili’s, and I saw how helpless he was in the face of his wife’s behavior. Fool.
Elif said nothing, she listened to the demon’s monologue with such calm that it was as if she didn’t hear a word.
I saw Ksenia clench her fists, clearly enraged by the lack of reaction.
I slipped away from Sasha’s hand at my back and moved discreetly to Elif’s side, he said nothing, but I felt his gaze on me.
“Look on the bright side,” Ksenia went on with an exaggerated smile stretching her lips. “At least little Vlad didn’t have to wait very long for her-” everything happened fast.
Elif’s hand wrapped around Ksenia’s throat, her coat slipped from her shoulders and fell to the ground as she slammed Ksenia back against the tree behind her.
Ksenia’s back hit the trunk violently as Elif pressed the gun she had drawn from her thigh against Ksenia’s temple.
The smile vanished instantly. “Mother!” Daria cried, throwing herself toward Elif but my hand was already tangled in her hair, yanking her backward as my foot kicked the back of her knee, forcing her to the ground.
The blade slid from my sleeve and pressed against her throat, pinning her in place. Of course I was armed. I always was.
All the men around us drew their weapons, pointing them at one another.
I felt Sasha press against my back, his arm raised, his gun visible beside my face, entering my field of vision.
Roman forced Vassili’s bodyguards back while positioning himself at one of Elif’s flanks.
Grigori did the same with Vassili, taking position on the other side of his wife.
“Grigori,” Vassili snarled through clenched teeth but he did nothing more as his wife whimpered under Elif’s grip.
“Don’t forget, your son is waiting too, Ksenia,” Elif whispered cruelly and I saw the words hit home as Ksenia’s face twisted with hatred. “Don’t be in such a hurry to join him,” Elif went on as Ksenia shook her head violently. “Not before you join your daugh…”