47. Anastasia
ANASTASIA
March
Grey sky.
Grey clouds.
Grey mood.
All so…grey.
It’s appropriate to be grey, though. A colour right in the middle. Not too light and not too dark. Not implying happiness nor depression. Not good nor bad.
Middle. Average.
It suits the setting. The day Lev picked to deal with our father’s body happened to be the same as an early spring storm, with the sky a mix of rain and snow and a blanket of dark clouds that hid the area’s obscurity.
Ironically, it’s the patch of land where Papa always insisted he’d be buried. He was determined to be with Ursin and Ivan Volkov rather than his own family. Most of the Elite said the same thing, because once at this rank, the Pakhan is family.
I suppose I understand. Vanessa is my family as much as Lev is. Dimitri as well. The four of us until the end, now and into the afterlife.
“Well.” Vanessa breaks the silence overlaying the untouched grass surrounding her father’s grave. It’s been a long time since she’s come, and it’ll be longer until she returns—if ever. “You can use the land, as they decided eons ago, if you want.”
It’s nearly fitting that Papa would be buried on the land he desired to be, but without his comrades as he assumed.
The Famiglia dealt with Ursin’s body, and Vanessa never got word about him.
There is a headstone because his Elite insisted.
Ivan never made it here because Dimitri had the prison deal with his corpse.
Fitting, but still not enough to give the man any sort of rest since that’s not what he did for us. So when Lev meets my gaze, our conversation from last night returns, and I nod, confirming the decision still stands on my end.
“No,” he replies for us both. “The coroner will cremate his body and toss away the ashes. He deserves nothing less.”
Vanessa kicks the ground by her father’s headstone. “He shouldn’t have a symbol of his life either. This conversation makes me want to dig this up.”
“Why do you think my father’s body was left to rot?” Dimitri crosses his arms, sneering at the grass.
Vanessa watches her cousin for longer, chewing on her bottom lip. “Maybe that’s what I will do since you’re both right. I’ll have Papa’s gravestone removed and sell the land.”
“Can I buy it?”
Collectively, we all look at my brother, who’s studying the space and the land beyond. Vanessa’s head ticks slightly to the side, shooting a look my way, which I merely reply with a shrug. He never said anything previously about buying land, nor could I even begin to guess his reasons.
“Sure, but why?”
“Because this land”—he gestures to the grave and property surrounding it—“connects to that one.” He then points to the chuck of forest and grass in the distance, also owned by Vanessa.
“I’d like to buy both because the mansion is a twelve-minute walk that way.
” He gestures behind him, way too precise for his own good.
“This is about Serafina,” Dimitri murmurs, almost lost to the wind. “You’re planning to build her a house.”
Dimitri ended up buying Katya’s childhood home, so they spend most of their time living in the quaintest civilian neighbourhood to exist. The times they’ve had me over were a weird fever dream, where I was never quite certain I was truly there.
Dimitri domesticated in a normal person’s house is… it’s something.
Lev bobs his head. “Da. I want to build her a house that we can call our own. Design it to our needs. She’ll want to be close to you and Zeno, though.
” His gaze flashes to Vanessa. “I’ll also be speaking to him about purchasing land in Italy, between Ostia and Rome, so she can go back and forth between both countries and her mother and feel at home wherever we end up. ”
My heart shatters for the brother I never quite saw as having this. It might be mean to say, but he’s barely looked at women—or men. People. He focused so much on his technology and surviving our father that seeing a future beyond any of that seemed unlikely.
Vanessa moves to his side and hovers her hand, as if about to touch him but smart enough not to. “Consider it a gift then. Both pieces of land are yours. Zeno will want her wed before she moves in with you, though.”
“I’m aware.” A tentative and rare smile graces my brother’s face. “Besides, the house needs time to get built anyway.”
“Damn,” Dimitri mutters, rubbing his chin. “Who’d have thought?”
“But I want to buy them,” Lev continues, ignoring Dimitri. “I don’t want it given.”
He’ll provide for her in the way he can. Emotions might be difficult, but building a house says as much as a few sentences can.
Vanessa opens her mouth to argue, but clamps it shut. “Alright. We’ll discuss a price.”
It’ll be low, knowing her.
She turns away and hooks her arm into mine to steer the four of us back in the direction of the mansion. “Life’s weird. We came here to talk about your papa’s death, and it ended with the option to rip up my father’s headstone so Lev can have the land.”
“Isn’t it better this way?”
“You mean, because it’s a distraction?” Her head lowers onto my shoulder, providing a bit of comfort after basically stating she understands what’s wrong.
Today was necessary, not a distraction. Sure, it was easier dealing with my father’s dead body than reflecting on the previous few months.
“How’s the wedding coming along?”
She lifts her head again and frowns at me. “That was the least unsubtle topic switch. I’m serious, Ana. I’m worried. We should spend the afternoon together and do whatever you want.”
“I have to work.” There’s always work to be done at the clubs. Plus, Lev mentioned a job with the soldiers the other day, though I wasn’t fully paying attention and have no idea what it is.
“No, you’re choosing to work. There’s a difference.” She swings to a stop in front of me, drawing the other two who were walking a couple feet behind us to a stop as well. “Go on ahead,” she murmurs, and my traitorous brother abandons me.
“I’m sticking Sera on him later for this.”
Vanessa barely blinks at the comment before she reaches for my wrists, drawing them out from crossed arms which I have no recollection of folding at all. “Talk to me, please. He hurt you. There’s no point in denying it. Not talking about it is becoming a problem.”
A problem? Now I’m a fucking problem? She must have learned more from our fathers than she claims to. I rip my wrists from her hold and step back, casting the same kind of expression I would a stranger. “Don’t pull the high-and-mighty card on me. You were a mess over Zeno.”
“That isn’t my intention.” She draws to her full height, her expression cooling for something the soldiers typically get. “I needed a kick in the ass that day, and you need one today. It’s been two months, and you’re miserable.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re barely home anymore.
You avoid us all. Hell, I’m genuinely surprised Lev got you out here today.
You barely sleep—and don’t deny it. I’m not saying forgive him, but figure out what you need to heal from this and let me know.
Let me help you.” She reaches for me again but drops her hands, her expression pleading.
“I love you, and seeing you like this breaks me. I understand you’re angry, but don’t take it out on me or the others when we’re trying to be there for you. ”
She finishes speaking. Stares at me. Sighs at my non-response.
How the fuck do I come up with an answer? It’s practically the truth. I’ve been pushing everything down and away, pretending to be content with things when I hardly know what day it is anymore.
As she turns away, her sigh catching on the wind, I reach for her wrist. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I just don’t know how to answer that question.”
As if the small disagreement didn’t happen, she rests her hand atop mine. “Think about it. You know better than anyone healing isn’t a quick journey, and betrayal is a special kind that lodges deeper than anything else. Don’t spend the rest of your life allowing a second man to control your mind.”
With that, she walks away, leaving me under those grey skies.
And my grey mood that’s quickly darkening to black.