Chapter 7
Vivi
I’ve always felt that it was a love of books that led Rowan and me to form one of the deepest friendships of our lives.
We met during a New Year’s party, drawn initially by the bonds of famiglia . Both of us were on display, the eligible daughters of powerful families and the prized possessions of overprotective brothers. Rowan was at the window cradling her ridiculous and magnificent ginger cat and looking like a Pre-Raphaelite painting.
I knew we were going to be friends immediately before a word was ever spoken between us.
And it was so. We became friends quickly. I drew Rowan as much as I could into our world of backstabbing and blood, mentored her, shielded her, gave her someone to talk to.
And then I walked away from her.
A book I read once during my teen years flitters across my mind— The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. I remember struggling to understand it years ago. In it, the main character, Esther, was struggling with her mental health, something that I could not exactly relate to.
Despite everything in my life being a bit beyond normal, I’ve never known normal…so I’ve never missed it. That lack of normality never made me wonder if maybe I was a shade past…sane.
But perhaps I am?
Because I can certainly relate to Esther saying she feels like an insect trapped under a bell jar.
An entire world exists beyond the bars of my cage. My only friend—if Rowan is still my friend—is across the river. My sister and brother-in-law are in our family home, probably fuming over my decision. There are people going to work and children going to school. Dreams are being built and destroyed all while I sit here, trapped.
Moving uselessly from one end of the cage to the next, beating myself against the glass walls of my jar.
I lie on my cushions, tears collecting cold at my ears as I stare at the ceiling.
Across the room, Nikolai adjusts himself in his chair as he looks at something on his phone.
I sit up and wipe the tears from my face. I’ll cry when I’m by myself, but I’m not going to do it in front of one of Ivan’s goons.
“I’d like to leave.”
Nikolai doesn’t answer.
He is slouching in his chair, a chair that he pulled from its place in front of the window. Ivan’s schedule is unpredictable, but his routine isn’t. Ivan always uses that chair when he puts on his shoes.
I wonder if he will notice if Nikolai does not return it to the correct place.
I clear my throat and say more forcefully, “I would like to leave.”
Nikolai finishes watching the video on his phone, chuckles to himself, and walks over to the cage. He leans down next to the bars. From where I’m sitting, I can smell the chewing tobacco on his breath.
“I know. There are few people who actually enjoy being in a cage.”
“I don’t want to leave the house. I just want to walk around for a bit.”
Nikolai sneers. “That’s your problem. You walked a little too far the other night, and now you are here.”
“Please. I’ll be good.”
“You are being good right where you are, little doll, don’t worry.”
I narrow my eyes and stand, going to the edge of the cage. I peer at him from between the bars, gold lines slicing through and blurring his image. He is relaxed, obviously assuming that I will be no issue.
“You can set a timer. Fifteen minutes. That’s all I need.”
“No.”
“You know that I won’t always be in here, right? Ivan is upset with me now, but one day, I will be back in his good graces. As much as I am his prisoner, he is mine. Eventually, I will have his ear.”
He smiles. I can see bits of chewing tobacco on his yellowing teeth.
“Aren’t you a pretty one to be making such threats?”
I let my lips curl without mirth. “I promise that any command I give will be given with a smile and wrapped in silk. You have a choice right now. Let me owe you a favor, or let me owe you revenge.”
Nikolai considers it for a moment and then shrugs. “You will owe me a favor?”
“Yes.”
“Deal.”
To my amazement, Nikolai reaches into his jacket and pulls out a key. It isn’t golden like Ivan’s but made of shiny silver—a copy.
He steps aside as I walk out of the cage. Aside from bathing, using the bathroom, and pleasuring Ivan when he demands it, it’s the first time I’ve been on the other side of these bars in days.
For a moment, I don’t know quite what to do with my newfound freedom. Then, an idea hits me.
“I would like to see my brother.”
Nikolai doesn’t argue. Instead, he unlocks the bedroom door and lets me lead the way. Surely, this has increased the weight of whatever favor I’ll owe him in the future, but for now, my pace quickens in my haste to reach Angel.
Everyone I pass, staff or mafia, stares in disbelief as I make my way down the hallway, down the stairs, and into the sitting room that faces the east.
The room where, just a matter of days past, a man died because he tried to help me.
I push the thought away, down to where I don’t have to think about it right now, and focus on the man in the cage before me.
Angel is wearing different clothing than before; I see at a glance. At least he is being offered the opportunity to keep himself clean.
He doesn’t raise his head at the sound of the doors opening. Instead, he is seated in the corner of his cage with his arm casually draped over one bent knee. Even at a distance, I can see the new bruises on him.
When I pause outside of his cage, Angel finally looks up. Surprise lights his eyes as they meet mine.
I swallow. “I would like a moment alone with him.”
“That is asking a lot,” Nikolai says.
I don’t turn from Angel. “Only a moment.”
“You recently tried to escape; I am not leaving you alone.”
Now I look at him, this lapdog so intent on establishing his authority over me. I know his kind. So determined to rise. So determined to prove himself to the Don. I keep my voice steady when I reply. “Yes. I had the opportunity to run back to my old life, and I chose my husband and my new life.”
“No dice.”
“It’s not like I can do anything here. This room is just as secure as the one upstairs. I can’t leave the house without someone seeing me on camera.” I make my voice soft and pleading. “Please, I just want a moment.”
Nikolai’s eyes dart to Angel and then back to me. He shrugs. “Fine. If you do anything, he will be the one who pays for it.” Nikolai leaves, closing the doors behind him.
Angel immediately begins laughing, shaking his head. His hair has gotten longer. The way that it falls into his eyes almost makes him seem boyish. He reminds me of the Angel I knew when we were younger, before we had to deal with the repercussions of our father’s sins.
“Married life suits you, little one. You command them like the mafia wife you are.”
I brush his words aside with an irritated gesture. “I need you to tell me everything.”
“Whatever do you mean? Don’t they give you access to the Internet? I’m sure that it knows more than I do.”
“You know what I mean, diavolino .”
Angel draws the pad of his pointer finger across his lower lip, his eyes thoughtful. “ Diavolino . Little Devil. Madre’s little nickname for me.”
“She called you that because you always did have a mouth on you. I don’t have much time, Angel. Stop with the games.”
Angel sighs. “Trust me. I am done with my games.”
There’s something in his voice, in the way he looks away from me rather than at me… “You mean…you don’t have a plan?”
Angel looks up at me. I don’t know how he hasn’t lost his mind. His face is misshapen from the amount of punches, kicks, and who knows what else has been inflicted upon him. Pain, sharp and shocking in its intensity, erupts in my chest when I see it.
“My plan is to stay alive until Ivan’s own plans fold in on him.”
My head shakes of its own accord. “That isn’t going to happen, Angel. I have spent a lot of time with this man. He is detail-oriented to a fault. His men are loyal to him. Nothing is going to catch him off-guard.”
“Until Azrael decides it is better to have a dead Don than a captured Don. I’m running out of time, sorellina . I’ve accepted the eventuality of my death, but I want to make sure that I am smiling as Ivan is taken down with me.”
“Don’t talk like that!”
I turn away from him and his cage, tears forming in my eyes. The room swims before me until I realize I’ve turned to the very spot where Brodie died. I take a few steps away, trying to gather myself.
When our grandfather decided to build up our family’s empire, did he ever imagine that it would lead to this? A world where daughters would be forced into marriages, children would kill their parents, and cages would separate brothers and sisters? There is tremendous wealth and power when one rules this world, but everything and everyone is at risk.
And once you are born into it, there is no escaping it. Many have tried, but revenge and greed have a way of crossing oceans and continents and finding those with even the remotest connection to this world. The only true escape is the one Angel has resigned himself to: death.
I turn back to him.
“Why, Angel? Why did you do it? All of this?”
Angel doesn’t respond. I close the distance between us and kneel on my side of the cage. Reaching through the bars, I touch the hand resting on his knee. “Please. I have to know.”
Angel takes a deep breath and meets my gaze. “Marcus Papparado—”
“Damon’s brother?” Our sister’s husband.
Angel nods and continues as if I hadn’t interrupted. “…had a plan to take out his brother. This isn’t normally something we would concern ourselves with, but my man told me that the intention was for our family to take the blame for the hit.”
I sit back, my lips rounding in an O of acknowledgment.
“I went to our father with this information. He was fresh from making a deal with the Scarpettas and Marzanos, promising both of them Lulu’s hand. ‘By the time the marriage comes, the money will be gone,’ he told me. He wasn’t concerned about what Lulu would have to endure from such an arrangement; he only cared about the money. As for the Papparado plot, our father said that the Papparados wouldn’t dare. It was a rumor—a false lead. No one would dare invoke the wrath of Valachi. Then, he tells me he was going to offer you to Maxim Romanov’s monster of a son. The Romanovs would pay a lot of money for a Valachi bride. They wanted to be further legitimized in our world. Marrying you, a Valachi, was a way to do that.”
“I don’t…”
“I’m not done. As long as our father was alive, I was powerless, so I did the only thing I could think to do. I faked my death, went into the streets, and joined a gang that worked under the Papparados. I learned a lot about the state of our family by roaming those streets. We were losing our power, bit by bit, and I needed to do whatever I could to make sure that didn’t happen. The moment I decided to do this was when Padre made the deal with Maxim Romanov. Do you have any idea of what he did with that money, sorellina ?”
I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes. “No.”
“He bought a black Rolls-Royce.”
This stirs a memory, one of the few good memories I had with my father. A memory that is now tainted.
I swallow the taste of bile. “He named that car after me.”
Angel drums the fingers of his free hand restlessly on his knee. “Yeah, he did. He drove it to our front door, called you out to see it, and told you its name. Then, he took you for a ride in it.”
“We went to the bookstore. He bought me all the Austens. Not just a single book in a collection, but individual hardbacks.”
“He drove you to your favorite place in a car named after the daughter he traded it for.”
I tighten the grip I have on my brother’s hand. That memory…so precious. It was like someone had shined a light on it but replaced the filter. All of the details were clearer, more gruesome. The smile on my father’s face. The way he beamed at my excitement to have such a collection of books. The way he held my hand as the wind whipped my hair around on the drive home.
His smile was no longer loving and fatherly. It was sinister.
Angel places his hand on top of mine, reversing the gesture of comfort and squeezing. “Every single step that I have taken was to protect you and Lulu. You two were never going to be safe unless we were the only family operating in New York City. I failed you.”
“You didn’t fail. Lulu is alive. And we’re all so…intertwined now. The Valachis have a hand in everything now, Angel.”
“I know.”
“You knew?”
“I was the one who smuggled her out of the city.”
I lift my chin. I shouldn’t be surprised. “She is back now.”
Angel sighs. “Damnit. Then, I really have failed. You are married to Ivan, and Lulu is back in the middle of this war.”
There are two knocks on the door, and Nikolai returns to the room. I grip my brother’s hands one more time before I stand, then whisper, “You have done so much for us, fratello . Now, it’s my turn.”
I return with Nikolai to my room, to my cage. I don’t like being here. I’m still a moth, battering my wings against the glass.
But there is a crack in the bell jar.