Chapter Thirty-Five
Ava
The laughter of people torrent to the top of the stairs as Roman and me stand at the landing. I drift my hand to Roman’s inner elbow as he bends it, pressing it to his body. His mask for the party is the complete opposite of my cream and lace. It’s black, matte and covers half of his upper face over his brow line. He tightens his jaw as he watches the people scatter around in their elegance. He is so handsome, as always, but especially with his suits hugging him in all the right places. He lowers his chin to me, tipping the corner of his mouth up and leads the way.
Each step is meticulous and precise, like we knew what was to come. I don’t think Roman would make a spectacle tonight but it’s hard to tell what he will do. The best thing we should do is act like we didn’t know anything about… well anything. I like to think I understand this world but it is becoming more and more clear that I don’t understand anything or the dynamics between families. I do know what is at stake though, and that is Roman’s life.
We reach the hardwood floor and we do not stop walking. Guests meander past, ignoring us, as we keep our attention toward the entrance of the ballroom.
The floor is black and white-checkered with a gloss finish on the top like it was a layer of glass. Beautiful quartz chandeliers warm the room with their dim lights as they hang at various lengths, spanning across the vaulted ceiling.
I close my eyes briefly to the string quartet’s classical music, playing the melodies you can feel in your bones. For a moment, I shut myself out from the world as Roman guides me across the room. He lets go of me as I open my eyes to him standing, with his back to the gray wall.
I swivel slightly to look over my shoulder as his hand catches my jaw and gently pulls my gaze at him. “You are absolutely gorgeous in every way, always. I knew this dress would complement your sweetness—”
A deep rumble of a voice interrupts, “—Ahem. Excuse the interruption.” I glance at Roman, whose eyes went to stone, and turn to find a tall man behind me. He steps closer, placing his hand around mine, lifting it to a kiss, “I am Massimo Gallo Stravani and you are?” His lowbrow bounces up as he glances at Roman with a smug smile.
“I’m Ava. Nice to meet you,” I reply, forcing a smirk. My shoulders start to ache, shooting anxiety across me. This has to be the Don.
Roman extends his hand past me and shakes his, “Hello, Massimo. Long time no see.” His voice was even, but I could tell this was everything he knew was going to happen.
He shakes Roman’s hand and drops it to his side, “May I interrupt for a dance with your exquisite date?” Massimo keeps his eyes on me like he wouldn’t care if Roman said no.
Please say no. Please say no.
Roman grips his fingers around my waist, “Absolutely, but I want her back soon, so we can have a dance.”
Fucker.
I look over my shoulder as Roman watches me. I can’t believe he would let me go with him, but I understand he was trying to not cause any waves tonight. He is going with the flow and playing the game.
Massimo grabs my hand, leading me to the center, “Now, what is such a beautiful lady doing with Roman Volokhov?” He laughs as he turns, embracing my waist as he props my hand in the air with his. He smelt of cigars and old money, and his beard is dark and trimmed to accentuate his square jaw.
Do they all wear the same cut suits?
“Oh, um…” I fake laugh as I place my hand on his shoulder.
His blue suit hugs his muscular body, matching his plain navy mask. I look past him at the champagne and the groups of people watching as we shuffle our feet to “ Dark Fur Elise ”. Other dancing couples revolve around us as I wish to be invisible, but that is out of the picture. Everyone is wearing dark colors, but me. I hope I didn't miss a color theme, or Roman purposely bought me practically a white dress to stand out.
We motion in a semicircle as he leans into my ear, “You need to be with someone who will take care of you, not a weirdo my dear.”
I keep my head still as I search for Roman. He isn't standing at the wall anymore or tucking between the others. Though the room is ginormous, everything seems to be closing in around me.
He left me.
The next song starts as I try to pull away, but he presses his fingers into me, "One more dance," he says through his teeth.
I gulp, "You are hurting me."
He ignores me as he smiles. I keep my chin level, scouring the crowd for Roman again. Or Nikolai or Sarah or anyone I know at this point. I shuffle my feet to face the entrance, and the ache of the anxiety amplifies, causing a bead of sweat to form on my forehead. Stepan is wearing all white and so is the beautiful woman on his arm. I look down at my dress.
Oh my fucking god. I'm going to kill him.
It's a bridal ball and here I am in white, no thanks to Roman. Stepan is talking with a man as they walk to the champagne table. I watch him turn his back on me as multiple people flock to their sides for conversation. Massimo shuffles again as he turns, gripping my ribs. I wince, looking over his shoulder and I see two men walking toward us. Their faces scrunch as their mouths frown like they smell something foul in the air.
I pull away slightly, but he slams me into the front of him. The men approach behind Massimo and tap on his shoulder. I was hoping for my escape from him, but he held on tight. He faces them and drops his leading hand, squeezing my ribs to his side as we face them.
"What is it?" Massimo asks.
One of the men stutters, "Uh… Th… That psychopath is here, sir."
Massimo trumpets a cackle, "Which one? There are plenty here tonight." He waves his hand around, flashing his gold rings.
"No, the psychopath. You know the one that…" He waits for Massimo to understand as I bite my lip nervously.
Massimo's happy-go-lucky laugh falters, "Spit it the fuck out."
The man nods, "The one that carves into people. You know the one," he whispers, cupping his hand to the corner of his mouth, "The Rabbit."
The room suddenly doesn't feel like it is closing in; it is crushing me at this point. My heart starts to race.
Shawn is here. But wouldn't Massimo be the one telling him who to kill if he was working for them? Unless he wants his men dead.
By the way Massimo's face frowns, he wasn't in on these kills, “Where is he?”
The other man steps forward, "I saw a man in a rabbit mask carrying a bloody blade.”
“And you didn't think to shoot the fucker?” Massimo grits his teeth as the men lower their heads to their chests, "Find him. Now." He lets go of my side, and I slowly walk backward, afraid he will grab me by my throat next. I keep my eyes on him, but as I step to turn, I see something white in the corner of my eye.
I look back as I swiftly walk for the side door.
Run, Ava, run.
Stepan is stomping into a trot to me, and his face is boiling red like the red rose he wore in his suit pocket. He pumps his arms as he grows closer. I lift my dress and wrist-purse as I start to run. I barrel through the push door into a hallway of caterers and wait staff, and they watch as I run down the unfamiliar hall.
The door flies open behind me as Stepan screams, “Stop! Stop her!” He is alone, but the staff stays still, ignoring him.
I reach the end of the hall when I start to hear gunshots. I look down, checking to see if I was hit, and realize he isn't the one shooting; they are coming from inside the ballroom. Multiple more go off as I turn left, looking back at Stepan. He stops and looks toward the party.
I keep running as fast as these heels will let me. I bounce my steps as I pull down the back of my straps, one by one, and hold them with my purse. I run past a dark hallway and veer right down the next one.
I freeze at the sight as my hair waves forward. Squinting my eyes in the dimly lit hall, I adjust them to what I think I see.
You have to be fucking kidding me .
A man crouches over a sprawled body with their back to me. I can't tell who it is because they are fully clothed, with a hood over their head and gloves on their hands, but it has to be Shawn. Blood outlines the supine man, trailing in between the top of his foot and the blue runner carpet. My eyes stare into the back of his head as I start to quietly back away, so Shawn can’t hear me. The pit of my soul feels like it dissipates into a black hole when he turns to me. He strains his neck, cocking it to the side. He is wearing a black rabbit mask, but it is frayed, almost tattered like it is well-used and loved. I outline the ears as I stop midstep, watching his silhouette.
Shawn is going to kill me.
I step my feet together, “Shawn…” I plead as my voice cracks. My body feels like it is out of control, though I'm frozen, stuck to my own mind, my own sanity.
What did I do to deserve this? Any of this…
I contemplate running toward gunfire or take my chances and run past him. I lean slightly to the side and see a door with a small window at the end of the hall. The evening dusk and trees sway outside of the window, giving me the courage to take a step forward. I can't go back. I exhale as I try to ease my shaking hands.
The man stands with a knife and turns. I squint at the blade and handle, exposing under the man's black gloves.
The same knife Roman practically fucked me with.
I stop when I realize it's Roman. My stomach burns to my throat as I look down at the body. He starts to walk to me, and I gulp down the fire as best as I can when I see who he killed.
The man in the mask is my stalker. Roman is The Rabbit.
It was hard to tell at first because his eyes are gone, and all that remains is blood on his face. His shirt is bunched up over his shoulder, and a half circle with one rabbit ear is carved into his back.
Roman blocks my view as he stands in front of me, “My…Sweet… Rabbit…” his voice rumbles, shaking from his chest, "I told you what I was, and just like how you watched last night, you can watch me carve into Shawn." He wipes away a tear from my cheek.
I am frozen as he towers over me, "You… you are my stalker?" I think about all the notes left for me, the fear I had always looking over my shoulder, and the morning I woke up to the news about Leo. “You… are a… you made me…” I struggle to find my breath.
He groans into a grin, “I didn't make you do anything, Cottontail. You begged for it.” He takes a step closer, placing his hand on my hip, “I couldn’t keep myself away, not after I met you in the Cafe. Not when I heard from my brother that he beat you to a pulp, not when I watched that fuck-face Leo drug you and try to rape you, not when I saw you smile, not when I heard your sweet voice, not when you are everything that is pure, and definitely not when you decided to challenge this world, tumbling in to just find a way out. I am doing what I know and what the times call for,” he lowers himself to my ear as I close my eyes, “and you, My Sweet Rabbit, are the force behind it. For everyone to know the work of art, like yourself, of the rabbit head. But instead of your sunshine, they get a black spot for their soul, slashed into them forever. I'm coming for all of them, and I'll think of you when I do.” He kisses my ear, and walks toward Shawn.
I don't know what to do; I am so infuriated and feel like I should have known.
You stupid girl.
He is obsessed. The Rabbit Cafe is where he met me… the way he calls me Cottontail, Sweet Rabbit.
He crouches down and looks at me and back to Shawn as he sticks the blade with precision into his upper back. It is like watching a painter lose themselves in their canvas.
The rabbit mask, the rabbit on the card, the cotton balls, the rabbit head he mutilates onto his victims. Everything.
Hands yank my hair, and I fly onto my back. Stepan drags me as he looks down at me, “I have been standing here long enough to hear what I need to know. Also, you should have been long gone by now.”
I cry out as I claw at his hands as I try to make myself dead weight. I look up at Stepan, facing away from Roman as he lounges a step, shouting, “Pavel, he's down here. Shoot the fucker. I will have fun with this one before I kill her.”
The tears keep flowing as I scream, "Stop. Plea—"
Shink
Roman’s blade stuck out of Stepan’s arm, freeing me. He runs past me toward Stepan and yanks the knife out as he punches his face, “Don’t you ever fucking touch her.”
I stumble slightly backward as I turn and run. I see Roman running toward me as Pavel comes into view around the corner. He stands in front of Stepan with his gun as he points it at Roman.
I push the door open and hurdle myself into a right turn. The sound of a gunshot fires as the door closes, and it feels like the world shatters around me. I stop midway on the sidewalk, heaving for my breath as I cry, hunching over.
I can't; this can't be.
The pain of a possible truth surfaces as the world seems to echo around me, pulsing me back into its spiral.
The door opens, and I lift my gaze from the pavement. Roman is running toward me, holding his shoulder as blood pours into his hand.
He says in a soothing tone, "Keep going, sweet girl." The whirl of the world around me becomes clear again as I watch him grow closer.
The guests sprint across the grounds as I look over my shoulder toward the sound of a loud car. An SUV is speeding over the walkway toward us. I squint my eyes to see if it was someone to the fucking rescue or if we would be fighting for our lives again.
Sarah is driving as Nikolai waves his hand out, laughing in frustration at her like an old married couple arguing about directions. I gasp when I feel an arm wrap around my waist, nudging me to run. His smell can’t be mistaken, and when I look up, he has a big smile plastering across his face.
Fucker is crazy.
Sarah breaks hard, veering Nikolai almost onto the dash. She is laughing at him now as she points. We reach the side of the car and Roman flings the door open and practically throws me onto the backseat. He jumps in, barely making it as Sarah shifts the gear into reverse, bouncing the door shut behind him.
Stepan was closer than I thought. I lean over the center console, watching him through the windshield. Raising his fists, he stops running. Spit flys out of his mouth as he screams, “I will fucking cut your fucking heads off!" His face flushes beet red, raging into a fit as we drive away.
Roman situates himself, taking off his clothes until his chest is bare as I sit back.
Nikolai squeezes over the console to the back with a small black bag, “Thank god we stole the bigger one, huh? Where to?” He looks up at Roman and waits.
Roman doesn’t acknowledge him as he focuses on the windshield without blinking, “Russia.”