Chapter 11
Vivi
Across the street, the figure leans, motionless, against the steel post of the streetlight.
I can’t tell if they’re male or female, only that they wait with patient perseverance. The width of two car lanes and a couple of sidewalks separate us, but they still stand out to me. Their head is positioned in such a way that it’s clear they are looking directly at the window from where I peek from behind the plastic blinds.
An unnamed person. An unknown threat.
Only I know exactly who they are.
Azrael. Waiting. Watching.
Nikolai’s phone goes off again. It has been ringing off and on the entire day. The tiny apartment where we’re holed up has basic supplies, including powder to make into milk and emergency rations like canned meat.
I spent time once, years ago, in one of my father’s safe houses. It was luxurious by comparison—clean and well-appointed, with clothing for us to wear and cable television to watch. Ivan’s safehouses aren’t as cozy and comfortable as the Valachi famiglia ’s; it feels like this was made for war.
I suppose it is war. Or it will be, once Lulu and Damon find out what happened.
I tear myself away from the window as a surge of emotions hits me again. I cannot get the image of Angel’s face as Nikolai dragged me away out of my mind. The sheer relief on his features. He loved me. Despite everything that this world made of my brother, he did love me.
And Ivan. Is he even alive?
Despite the monster the world claims him to be, I cannot begin to fathom his loss, and what it means for me.
With a resolute swallow, I push all of that away. I can’t think about it right now.
Not while Nikolai and I are scrambling to find a safe refuge in a city where the faces of our pursuers are unknown. They could be anyone…anywhere. The seemingly harmless mother pushing a stroller, the middle-aged man on the subway, the college kid surfing the sidewalk on a skateboard.
This is our fourth stop today. Judging by Nikolai’s repeated disappearances into the only bedroom, we won’t be staying here tonight.
Especially since that person across the street has been in the same spot, staring at the apartment, all day.
Nikolai comes back into the living room. The air is stale in here, and the couches are the kind that populated every middle-class living room in the 1980s. The thick wooden legs, smooth velveteen fabric, and its repeating pattern of orange trees and rustic barns are familiar and oddly comforting, even though we never had such a monstrosity in the Valachi mansion. The middle of each cushion’s design is faded, evidence of the countless people who have rested in the same spot over the years.
Nikolai tucks his phone into his pocket and removes his gun. I had never paid much attention to him, even though we had spent hours in each other’s presence with only the bars of my cage separating us. I look at him now, trying to figure him out.
He’s leaner than Ivan, but it’s the kind of leanness that reminds me of a big, lethal cat. I’m almost certain that Ivan could defeat Nikolai one-on-one, but it would be a difficult fight.
Ivan.
My throat catches again, as it does every time my thoughts lapse and stray back to him and his possible fate.
No. I can fall apart later. But not yet, not now. First, we need to find shelter. Losing Angel is enough. I can’t focus on getting to safety if I let myself fall into that abyss.
Nikolai looks out the window and then over at me, his gaze skittering over me without emotion. “We are moving.”
I frown. “Someone is outside.”
“I’m aware. Azrael has been tailing us all day. They weren’t shy about lighting up Ivan’s house, attracting all that attention. I’m not sure why they aren’t being more aggressive.”
“I think they are gathering information.”
His gaze is sharper this time. “What?”
I don’t know why I’m having this conversation with him. I was never elected to be one of the deciders in our world, the people who make things happen. But I’ve been around enough meetings and heard enough talk from the men who make decisions to know certain things.
“Whatever their plan was today, something went wrong.”
Nikolai hums, the sound indicative of neither agreement nor dissent. “I don’t think you were a target. Angel was the one who told the Commission to send them. They wouldn’t go after you.”
“But I am connected to a lot of people. We don’t know all of the reasons Angel gave the Commission for Azrael’s involvement. We don’t know the entire list of targets. Either something went wrong today, and they didn’t achieve all of their goals, or they are trying to get to someone else by following me.”
“How unfortunate.” His lips flatten, and he checks the clip in his gun before replacing it in his waistband.
Nikolai’s comment doesn’t make sense, but he doesn’t give me an opportunity to question it. He opens the door to the hallway, and we exit.
When we get down to street level, I’m close enough to see that the watcher is a woman, the delicacy of her jawline as it’s limned by the streetlight giving her away. She is wearing a rain jacket that hides the curves of her body. Her face is expressionless. There is something about the hollowness of her cheeks and eyes that makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck.
She is a no one—a ghost.
But no…she is worse than a ghost. She is a trained killer sent to stabilize the mess of the Five Families of NYC.
We get into the car that Nikolai hot-wired earlier that day. He leans over, messing with the wires until the engine fires again, and I sit back in the seat as he pulls away from the curb.
NYC is a sleepless giant that is able to be both familiar and completely foreign. I watch the people on the streets hailing cabs, talking on their phones, and walking between the nightclubs and bars. Entire lives right outside of my window, flashing by in a blip of seconds and blurred city lights.
I wish I were one of those laughing girls, stumbling past on their high heels and clutching their tiny, glittery purses. They have no idea of the monsters that populate this city, no concept of the darkness that lies in wait for the unwary.
They’re happy, carefree. But for an accident of birth, that could’ve been me.
We pull up to a familiar townhouse. My heart thumps hard in my chest, but then I pause, my hand on the door handle.
“What is this, Nikolai?”
He doesn’t answer but exits the car and waits, expecting me to do the same.
We’ve arrived at a townhouse that is a part of several row houses, a series of houses that look exactly the same. The brick was once a bright red, but the exhaust of the city’s transportation system has turned it to a dull brown. The flower boxes are empty at the windows, and there are stains on the concrete steps leading up to the front door.
I know this house. It is a Valachi safehouse. My shock increases when the door swings open at Nikolai’s coded knock, revealing Eduardo.
“Eduardo! I thought you were dead!” The proclamation escapes my lips with a small cry, and I leap forward into his tight hug.
Eduardo was sent to the hospital after a gunfight and never came home. Everyone spoke of him like he was dead. He was dead.
How many times am I going to fall for this?
I shake my head a little, one hand lifting to my temple.
No, I know what I saw. I know what I heard later about Eduardo’s condition. There was no way he survived that.
But his embrace is the same one I remember from childhood. Being hugged by someone so familiar, especially after all of the losses of the day, almost breaks me. I just want to sob into his shoulder like I did when I was a girl.
But I don’t get the chance. Over his shoulder, I see Damon Papparado sitting at a kitchen table. He looks just as dark and handsome as I recall. I remember my girlhood crush on him, the unrealistic kind where I used to write “Papparado” at the end of my name in old composition books, where I dreamed about honeymoons on beaches that didn’t really exist.
The feelings that Ivan inspires are so different from those pale, shadowy things. So…visceral. So real, even if they’re confusing, ugly, and terrifying half the time.
And there’s that sob, welling up again.
No. Nonono—
I’m not ready. I may not ever be ready.
“D-Damon—”
“Hey, there, kiddo.” Damon’s voice is soft as he eases himself out of his seat and wraps me in a hug. He holds me at arm’s length, looking me over. “Not such a kid anymore, are you, though?” Despite my best efforts, a tear finds a path down my cheek. I swipe it away and look around the small room. “Is Lulu here?”
Damon looks at Nikolai. “You’ll see her soon. I wanted to read the situation before planning that reunion.”
Translation: he didn’t know —doesn’t know?—if he can trust Nikolai.
Behind me, Eduardo makes a sound. “They’ve stationed themselves outside of the house.”
I don’t need to ask who they are. Azrael is always watching.
“Have you been in touch with him?” Damon asks, directing his question at Nikolai.
Nikolai shakes his head, the gesture brief. “He’s tried to contact me, but…” He trails away, hesitating briefly and glancing over at me. “The situation is dire. They went after him directly, and they will do so again. Soon. Anyone in the line of fire…”
I bite my tongue to quell the words rushing up. Ivan is alive.
Alive!
But they don’t want to take me to him. Damon, I understand. Nikolai’s motives are murkier. He can act like he wants to protect me all he likes, but there’s more to it.
Nikolai is still talking, his expression earnest. I keep my mouth shut. I listen.
“You know as well as I do, the Five Families existed in relative peace for many years. I don’t believe Ivan is capable of restoring that peace.”
Damon hums, the sound neutral.
“I can keep the cash flow for the Romanovs going while the family makes a decision regarding leadership.” He waves a hand, far too dismissive for my taste. “But, as far as they know, Ivan is out.”
Nikolai’s motivation crystallizes. I’m not here because Nikolai is protecting me. I’m leverage. He’s using this as an opportunity for a power grab.
Rage, unlike anything I’ve felt before, surges inside me, making me curl my hands into fists and grit my teeth.
It’s followed just as swiftly by disappointment. I’m not like Evie or Carina, who would be pummeling him with closed fists or slicing his throat for even considering it. I’m not like Lulu, who would be giving him the sharp edge of her tongue for his betrayal.
I’m weak. Raised to play a song on a piano, serve as eye candy for Father’s guests. Pretty is as pretty does.
Damon continues the conversation as though my entire world hasn’t splintered at the seams. “Azrael made the decision to take out Angel instead of allowing him—a Don— to remain in captivity. This does make Ivan a primary target, I agree. They undid any reason for keeping him alive with that move.” He takes a step, pivots, and paces back, gaze fixed on the floor. “The Commission hasn’t officially recognized me as Angel’s replacement. The assassination just happened this morning; these things take time.”
He ceases his pacing and levels a look at Nikolai.
“That’s not my chief concern, though. My biggest problem is that I’m having a hard time trusting a man who is so willing to betray his Don.”
“I’m doing what needs to be done to restore balance—”
“Prove it. Hand over Vivi and go on your way. You leave with nothing.”
Before Damon finishes speaking, I feel the cold steel of Nikolai’s gun against my head before I realize what is happening. If I didn’t know him, I would think Damon is completely non- reactive. As it is, the only outward betrayal of his feelings is a slight twitch of his eyelid. His was always a cool, calculated kind of fury. It’s what enabled him to infiltrate the Valachi family in the first place. “You are one man, Nikolai. You know you won’t leave here alive.”
Nikolai grasps my upper arm hard, his grip likely to leave a mark. “It doesn’t matter; she will be dead.”
The tension is mounting, and there is a palpable, physical sensation in the small room that is building and swelling. I can feel it. It is like when a firework has been lit, and you are waiting for the explosion. I just got Damon, Lulu, and Eduardo back in my life. I can’t risk them now.
“Stop! I’ll go.”
Damon doesn’t look at me. “The hell you will.”
“I will. This is my decision. Thank you for your efforts, but we need to be going. I am going willingly.”
“Vivi, your sister wants you home. You belong at home with your family.”
“My home was burned down this morning. Thank you, Damon, but this is what I need to do.”
I keep my eye on my brother-in-law as Nikolai eases me backward toward the door. Damon’s jaw tightens as he watches us leave.
The person across the street, a man this time, watches us get into the car. Nikolai grabs me by the hair and pulls my face close to his. The odor of tobacco on his breath turns my stomach, and I hold my breath, afraid I’ll vomit all over him if I breathe too deeply.
“That was well done. If you end up being useless to me, you are dead.”
I don’t cry out. I don’t respond. I look at him blankly until he lets me go and starts the car, and then I turn my attention to the window.
Dozens of people move about their business on the streets. I watch them all. Somewhere in this vast city is Ivan, and I know, without a doubt, that he is looking for me.
He will find me.
And when he does, Nikolai will suffer.