25. Nona
NONA
Last night was a whirlwind of sorts. One minute, I’m about to completely come apart after trying to explain my whole pregnancy deal and the next, I’m in his arms. And then the next, we’re making love in the parlor, then after, we’re taking a bath together, and then…
Sex with Alex has always felt like a marathon. We both have insatiable appetites. This time, however, I couldn’t even imagine it ending. I lost track of space and time and all I wanted was to be in his arms, to feel his breath on my skin and my fingers running through his hair.
And now as my eyes open, the sunlight coming in through the curtains, I’m more content than I’ve ever been in my life.
His warm breath caresses the back of my neck, one arm is draped over my hips.
The comforter is half on and half off our bodies, but the chill of morning doesn’t touch me.
I’m warm and toasty with my body pressed against his.
He stirs and I feel his lips pressing against my skin as he pulls me closer.
“Good morning,” he whispers in my ear.
“Good morning,” I whisper back.
His hips press against my ass and his cock stirs. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs. He brushes some of my hair over my ear and says, “The sunlight makes your hair look like fire… and your skin like embers in ash.”
I smile. “You’re a poet, now?”
“I’ve always been a poet,” he says. “I just haven’t had a reason to recite anything in some time.” He kisses my neck again. “No one’s moved me this way in years.”
I turn around and face him, looking into his sleepy eyes. “I move you?”
He nods, his hand absently caressing my hair. “That’s no small feat, you know. I’m a king in this life. I move for no one.”
I’m speechless. I think this might be the first time I’ve ever felt bigger than I ever was. I’ve spent so much of my life shrinking in the shadow of my father…
My father. I can’t believe that he ever loved me. Not anymore. My child is probably the size of a grape and I can’t imagine ever making the decision to murder it for my own political gain.
I lift my mouth to his and kiss him. He reciprocates as I press myself to him, feeling his cock grow even harder against my thigh.
He smiles against my lips and says, “I have to meet with Kostya and the others today.”
“Can’t it wait?”
I bite his lip and he growls lustily. “You’re making this very hard.”
I snicker. “I know. I can feel it against my leg.”
“Yeah?” It presses against my though again, sliding between my legs. “Can you feel that?”
My thighs are already moist just from being so close to him. I open my legs a little, allowing him a little more access. “Sir,” I whisper against his lips. “Stay with me a little longer?
As if my words cast a spell on him, he leans into me his hands moving down to my thigh, lifting it up and around his waist. He slides himself inside me without question and our moans mix on the breath between us.
My heart is full with him. My love. My Alex.
“You know… I’m going to have to kill him. You get that, right?”
At the time that Alex said it, he had just gotten out of the shower and I was getting dressed in the bedroom. He was standing at the bathroom sink in just his towel and the sentence had just popped out, completely apropos of nothing.
I’m thinking about that statement now as I make coffee. He, Kostya, and Rikki are talking on the back stoop and I can hear pieces of the conversation through the screen door.
I know… I’ve known that my father’s actions were going to lead to something like this. I guess I haven’t really thought too hard about it before now. Before he said it out loud.
It’s logical that this is the action that has to be taken. He’s declared war on the Bratva and threatened my life, and apparently, the life of this baby. Alex is doing what needs to be done to keep us safe.
And yet… I don’t know. I feel responsible for all this.
Listening to them talk about what happened has pieced together a few dots for me.
It’s also become clear that if I hadn’t been so careless as to toss out the pregnancy test in the trash outside, his spies might never have found out about this baby.
The coffee’s made and I pour cups for everyone and put them on a tray to take out to them. My job here is to bring my husband and his men coffee then make myself scarce. That’s what I’m supposed to do, leave the men to the planning.
I take the tray out to the stoop and get part of the current track of conversation. The three of them are sitting on chairs with a small card table near the door.
“The bottom line is that we don’t know where he is now,” Kostya says. Rikki, who’s got a bruise under one of his eyes, shakes his head.
“Should have drawn and quartered that piece of shit for lying,” he mutters in Russian.
“It only means we’ll have to draw him out,” Alex says.
Kostya laughs. “Easier said than done. He’s an experienced Pakhan. He’s not going to stick his neck out knowing we’re looking for him.”
Alex glances at me, then the coffee. He takes two cups and passes them to Kostya and Rikki with a “Thank you” before grabbing his own mug and taking a sip.
“The trick,” Kostya continues, “is finding something to come out for. Something he would never say no to.”
“Maybe something like his daughter?” I say without thinking.
They all stop talking and look at me. Alex immediately says, “Not a chance.”
“He tried to set me up as a spy,” I say. “If I texted him with some fake information, he could be convinced that I’m still working for him.”
“Nona,” Alex says with a slightly impatient sigh, “he wants to end my bloodline. He knows that you’re carrying the next generation of Molotovs. It would be insane to use you as bait.”
“Hang on,” Kostya says. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s insane. I mean, in the grand scheme of things, you’re actually a bigger prize to him than this baby is.”
“How do you figure that?”
Kostya and Rikki exchange a glance and Rikki says, “Because you’re a Pakhan. A brand-new one at that. He has to know that with you gone, this Bratva will fall into chaos.”
“And a headless Bratva is one that can be destroyed or even taken over,” Kostya adds. “He may want to wipe you all out, but the most important thing to him has got to killing you any way he can.”
Alex’s brows knit together. “By that logic, I should be the one playing as bait, not Nona.”
Rikki scoffs. “Would you come out of hiding if the Pakhan hunting you asked to meet up after you tried to kill him? Slavik is a lot of things, but dumb isn’t one of them.”
“Which is why,” Kostya says, continuing the train of thought, “if we’re seriously talking about luring him out, then we’d be fools not to at least consider using the one person he might actually come out for.”
Alex shakes his head, ready to reject the idea once more. “Also,” I say, “this is kind of my fault, anyway. This whole rampage he’s on might not have happened if he hadn’t found out I was pregnant.”
He looks at me with large, sorrowful eyes, then he looks away. “Don’t talk like that. None of this is your fault.”
“But it is. And I’m not putting myself down by acknowledging that.
That’s just the facts of what happened.” I can see he’s getting more and more uncomfortable, so I touch his arm gently and kneel down next to his chair.
“I’d never even suggest doing this if I didn’t know for a fact that it would work.
I can convince him to meet with me. Somewhere out in the open where you can take him out. ”
“Nona, he could decide to kill you the moment he lays eyes on you.”
“That’s not going to happen because you’re not going to let it happen,” I tell him in as measured a tone as I can muster. “You and your men will be watching me, keeping me safe.”
He looks down at me, his eyes darting over my face. “Are you sure that you can do it? Because if there’s any chance of him being suspicious—”
“I can do this, Alex. I’m the only one who can.”
He looks away, down at the cup of coffee in his hands. Kostya says, “If she can lure him out, we’ll never have a better chance at him.”
Alex regards Kostya, then looks back at his coffee and takes a drink. “Set it up,” is all he says.
I stand and pull out my phone.
“That’s… valuable information. How did you come across it?”
“He’s been so busy, he didn’t realize he left some notes out on his desk. I took them, but I don’t know how long it’ll be until he notices. Can we meet?”
I’ve been reading over the texts over and over, going over the plan in my mind again and again. Kostya had been the one to suggest that I tell him that I have the locations of all of the Molotov stash houses and apparently, that got Papa’s attention. He texted back immediately and before I knew it…
I look up from my phone and around Central Park, observing people as they walk past me on the wide paved walkway. A couple of joggers, a man on a bike, a young couple walking hand in hand…
I’ve heard that nighttime in Central Park is dangerous. More dangerous than a lot of places in New York. And yet, there are still people here, living their lives as if it were noon on a Monday. Maybe when all this is over, Alex and I can take this walk with our newborn. In the daytime, of course.
I try not to think too hard about it. I have to focus for this conversation I’m about to have. I don’t know where any of them are. Before I walked out here, Alex assured me that he would be nearby, watching and waiting for his opening.
A sniper shot was Kostya’s suggestion. As soon as they were clear, they’d take him.
One shot to the forehead. Kostya assured me that it would be quick and quiet and chances would be good that no one would even notice—at least not right away.
He would slump over and I could guide him down to lie on the bench, then I could slip away.
At the time that he explained it to me, it sounded like a solid plan. At the moment, my nerves are starting to get the better of me. If he doesn’t show…
I feel someone sit down next to me and I look over, ready to shoo them away.
The man sitting next to me is wearing a soft gray jacket, appropriate for the mild spring weather this afternoon.
He’s also wearing a matching gray hat with a curved brim.
It hangs over his eyes, blocking his face from me partially.
“Excuse me,” I say to him, “but I’m waiting for someone.”
“I’m aware, Dochurka.” He brushes some lint from his shoulder.
I lean in, recognizing his voice… and the salt and pepper gray of his beard. “Papa?” He nods simply. “What are you doing? I barely recognized you.”
He scoffs slightly. “I’m surprised you’re not aware. Your ‘husband’ is tracking my movements. I have to be very careful when I move around.”
My heart jumps a little in my chest and I ask, “Did you come alone?”
“Of course not,” he says. “Do you have the notes?”
This is moving too fast. I glance around, wondering if he can be recognized from afar. “Papa, we haven’t seen one another in so long. Can’t we talk for just a moment?”
He looks at me from under his brim. “Nona, we are in war times. I cannot stay here for very long. Do you have the notes?”
I nod. No gunshots have rung out and there’s no indication that anyone knows this man is really Slavik Sokolov under his hat and jacket.
I turn and reach into my purse for the folded up manila envelope that I’ve put fake papers in.
I have to think fast to keep him here a little longer.
“I’m just… I miss you. I feel so alone in that house.
I was going stir crazy.” I pause as a crazy thought enters my head. “You should know… I’m pregnant.”
I see his hands freeze and he looks away from me. “That wasn’t your assignment.”
“It just happened. You can’t have expected me to get close to Alex without sleeping with him.” I pause as he continues to look away from me. “I thought you’d be pleased. You have someone to continue your legacy now.”
That makes him turn his head, a slightly surprised look in his eyes. I don’t think that angle has even occurred to him before this moment. He looks away from me again. “Pakhans often choose others to carry on after they’ve passed, Nona. Heirs are not exclusive to blood relations.”
“I know,” I say. “But… but maybe once this war is over, I can come back home and you can raise this baby as your own. He won’t ever have to know who his real father is.”
At that, he lowers his head and maybe for the first time ever, I see a little sadness in his eyes. After a few seconds, he turns to me. “Nona…” he starts, then stops, his eyes drifting over my shoulder.
And just like, that the air changes around us. His eyes dart back to me, and he says, “Does he know? About the baby?”
“No,” I lie. “There’s no telling what he might do if he knows.”
“I see. Then I think that the wise thing to do is for you to come home. Now.”
“W-What?”
“I understand how hard this has to have been on you,” he goes on. “You must think that I’m so cruel to have made you a party to this. I think that now that you’re pregnant, your duty to this Bratva is over. You’ve gone above and beyond what I have asked of you.”
He reaches for me and I instinctively flinch away. “What about the notes?”
“We can talk that over later.” He reaches again, this time grabbing my arm as he stands. “Come on, Nona. It’s time to come back home to where you belong—”
A poof of smoke and he jerks back. His hand releases me, and I stumble away from him. In his right shoulder is a dark, smoking hole. He looks down at it and it starts to bleed as if the very action of his acknowledging it caused it.
“That,” he says, “was a big mistake, Dochurka.”