Chapter 19
NIKA
“Igo back to Moscow for a few months and it’s like you’ve lost your mind.” Aunt Yelena waves a big spoon at me, shaking her head. “Honestly Veronika, running out into a storm like that?”
“I know, it was stupid.”
“A childish temper tantrum. You haven’t acted like that since you were little.
” She rolls her eyes and flips the kotlety.
Her cooking smells amazing. Nostalgia threatens to drown me as I sit at the table, now changed into dry clothes and drinking black tea.
She used to cook these for me when I was little, these flat Russian meatball things, and I’d scarf them down by the dozen, eating them on top of fluffy beds of mashed potatoes.
“It’s been a really tough couple of weeks.”
“Yes, well, I heard.” She gets more serious as she begins to serve the food, moving briskly. “You look skinny. Don’t tell me Gabriel isn’t feeding you.”
“He’s fine, Tyotya.”
“Don’t you tyotya me.” She drops a plate in front of me and scowls. “I know that man is difficult sometimes, but he better have been taking care of you.”
I soften under her hard glare. “He’s been good to me, I promise.”
“Eat then.” She gets another couple plates and brings them out to Hulk and Daniel as I dig in. The kotlety is delicious and the potatoes are velvety and incredible. I’m instantly transported back to my childhood. I can’t help but feel warm and relaxed.
She sits across from me when she comes back and takes a cigarette from a pack. She puts it in her mouth but doesn’t light it. I raise my eyebrows in surprise as her nose wrinkles.
“Since when did you smoke?”
“I know, I know. I quit when I started to take care of you. Going back to Moscow—“ She shakes her head. “Old habits.”
“What have you been doing back in Russia?”
“Business.” She scowls and puts the cigarette away. But seconds later, it's back in her mouth. “Ugly business. I hear you met your cousin?”
“Artyom. He seems nice.”
She laughs sharply. “Artyom is a psychotic piece of shit. That boy is missing some key ingredients for a normal human being.”
“I kind of figured that one out. How are we related?”
“Your father’s sister married this real piece of work, Pyotr Volkov, a little oil magnate with an ego bigger than his stupid yachts, and together they begat the devil spawn Artyom.”
“I didn’t know my dad had a sister.”
“She’s gone now. Pyotr too.”
I stop eating for a moment. “A lot of bad stuff happens in my family, doesn’t it?”
Yelena softens and leans forward, the cigarette clutched between her fingers. “I did my best to shield you, Nikusha. I’m sorry it came to this.”
“It isn’t your fault.” I look down at my hands, blinking away tears.
“Oh, sweetie, I think it might be. I think if I had been stronger, I would have been able to prepare you for all this better. But you were so sweet, I—“ She takes a deep breath and blows it out. “Ah, screw it, don’t judge me.” She lights the cigarette and takes a drag.
I burst out laughing, unable to help myself. Aunt Yelena scowls at me, but she’s smiling too. “I can’t believe you’re seriously smoking inside right now.”
“What, you think Gabe’s going to give me trouble?” She makes a face and waves her hand. “I can take care of him, I promise you that.” Her smirk fades as she takes another drag.
“Why didn’t you tell me? About my family?”
“I wanted you to be normal. We lived here in America and all of that with Medvedev and your father was so far away, back in Russia, most days it was easy to forget them. It was easy to convince myself that you didn’t need to know, that it was better if you could be… a regular girl.”
“But I wasn’t.” I place my fork down with a soft clatter. “That was never going to happen.”
“I know.” She wilts a touch. “Your father wouldn’t let it.”
“Did you know about the money?”
“Not at first.”
“But eventually?”
“It wasn’t hard to figure it out.”
“It was for me.”
She blows smoke at the ceiling and shrugs. “Like I said, you were a normal girl.”
“All this time, you knew I was rich.”
“No, not you. It was still your father’s money, and believe me, you don’t want to steal from that man, or you didn’t at least. Even his own daughter, he would have happily—“ She drags a thumb across her throat.
I curl into myself, tucking my legs under me and hunching forward. Yelena frowns, disapproving at my bad posture. “What was he like? My father?”
“You really want to know?”
“You never talked about him when I was growing up. Whenever I asked, you said he was a powerful man and changed the subject.”
She stubs out the cigarette, curses to herself in Russian, and lights another. “The truth is, your father was a bastard. I hated him for sending me off to raise you, and then I came to despise him for still drawing breath. I’m glad he’s gone. I wish I had killed him myself. Is that honest enough?”
A thousand questions hit me all at once. Yelena seems tired and older than I remember. I open my mouth to speak, but she gestures firmly at my plate and narrows her eyebrows. I know what that means. Eat first, talk after.
Reluctantly, I obey, since I know better than to argue when it comes to dinner.
“Why didn’t you want to raise me?” I ask once my plate is nearly cleared.
She gets up and refills our tea. “I never wanted children. I love you now more than life itself, but back then I was a mess. I was a member of your father’s Bratva, but I was never an insider because I was a woman.
I wanted respect and power, and instead I got shipped off to play mommy to a baby I didn’t even know.
It took me time to get used to my situation. ”
“What changed?”
“You did, Nikusha. Don’t look at me with those big, sad eyes, little girl.
You mean more to me than anything and I thank God your father sent me with you back then.
Otherwise, I’d probably be dead by now, at the rate I was going.
” She grins ruefully. “Raising you was the best thing I did with my life. I mean that.”
I nod, unable to speak, and quickly start eating again. When I calm down, I sit back and sip tea, my plate clear.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t hate Gabriel for what he did.” I whisper it, watching the only person in this whole world I trust. She nods to herself and lights another cigarette.
“He told me where things stand with you two. And believe me, I didn’t let him off easy. He should have said something from the start. He should have been clear with you. That’s what I wanted.”
“But he wasn’t.”
“No, he wasn’t, and I’m sorry for that.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“But it is, because I’m the one who told him about you. I’m the one who told him to do what he did. I’m the one who told him to marry you, to take care of you. I put all this—“ She gestures around her. “Into motion and now it’s like the wheels have come off.”
I take that in, coldness seeping into my bones. I put down my teacup. “Why would you do that?”
“Gabriel is going to be the next Dragon. Your cousin will fight him, but I believe Gabe will win. When that happens, you will be one of the most powerful people in the world, but more than that, Gabriel will have a wife who can ground him. He needs you, Nikusha, the same way you need him.”
“He killed my dad. He lied to me about it.”
“And he better make that right somehow. But the truth is, if he hadn’t killed your father, I would have.
Your father was a sick man, a vicious, violent gangster.
He was a murderer, a rapist, and a thief.
He deserved what Gabriel did to him and likely much worse.
I’m sorry, but that’s the truth. Gabriel’s only real sin is keeping it from you. ”
I let her words roll over me. I’m not sure how I feel. If my father really was that bad, is it such a bad thing that he’s dead? If even Aunt Yelena thinks Gabe did the right thing in killing my father, can I really hold it against him?
Even now, I’m torn in half. One part of me wishes I could’ve known my father, while the other knows I would’ve hated him, even based entirely on the men he sent to control me.
My father gave me barely enough to survive and used me for legal cover.
I was tossed aside, hidden away, and treated like a rubber stamp.
“What am I going to do, Tyotya? I don’t know what I’m going to do. I feel so angry.”
“That’s good. You should be angry. But know, Gabriel is a man, flawed like any other, but I’m behind him because I believe in him.
Since we met, he has done nothing but treat me with respect.
His word is iron and he lives up to all his promises.
He has made mistakes, Lord knows, but he’s a good man.
He’s nothing like your father ever was.”
“Gabe’s a bad man though. He’s doing bad things. He’s a killer like my father.”
Yelena considers me. “You’re right, Gabe’s a bad man, but not all bad men are the same.
Your father was the kind of man who would cross any line to get what he wants.
He was the kind of man who would kill and slaughter and maim for his own personal gain.
But Gabe’s the kind of bad man who would wade through blood to keep his word and to protect those he swore to keep safe.
That’s the difference between them. Your father would burn the world for himself. Gabe would burn it for you.”
Everything she’s saying makes sense. My father’s death aside, Gabe’s been straightforward with me about our relationship.
He has risked himself to keep me safe more than once, in the forest, at the motel, and again down at the beach.
I’ve seen the way he treats his men, not necessarily with kindness, but with respect. Even Daniel said the same thing.
“Why haven’t you been here? And why are you back now?” My voice is small and quiet. My head’s a conflicted mess. My heart feels like it wants to break.
She puts out her cigarette and pushes the pack away. “I’ve been stabilizing our power base back in Moscow. But Gabe told me what happened, and I knew you’d need me.”
I blink away tears. “That’s why you flew all the way here? Just because I might be upset?”
“Nikusha, of course. I told you already. You’re the only good thing I’ve ever done.”
I bury my face and cry into my hands. Aunt Yelena comes around and wraps her arms around me, hugging me tightly. The tears are hot and thick, and I feel like a child again, desperate for Tyotya to keep me safe.
“I’ll talk to him,” I whisper when I’ve calmed down. I wipe my eyes with my napkin as Yelena kisses my hair.
“Good. You should. Work this out between the two of you.”
“Artyom’s still out there. The fight’s not over, is it?”
“No, Nikusha, it’s not even close to done.” She smiles sadly and squeezes my shoulder. “Now, go wash your face. You look like you’ve been crying. It’s not the prettiest in the world.”
I laugh despite myself. “I’m happy you’re here.”
“Only for a bit though, then it’s back to the gulag with me.”
“But you will stay? For a few more days?”
“Of course.” She pats me one more time before clearing the dishes. “You think I want to get back on a plane already? That flight was brutal! Tell your husband to pay for first class next time, the cheap bastard!”
I help her clean up, not sure what I can say to my husband, not sure what words can fix this thing that’s broken between us, but for the first time in days I’m willing to try.