My eyes catch Aunt Olga first. She stands on the other side of the pool table with her spine perfectly straight and her fingers on the wooden edge. Her sharp blue eyes are studying the playing field, and I guess she’s the second player in Yuriy’s game. As if feeling my lingering gaze, Olga raises her head and gives me a cool smile, and it feels more like a genuine greeting.
Next to Olga is Sergei, her son, who doesn’t even acknowledge my presence, and not far behind him, I notice a figure. It’s hard to recognize her face in the shadows, but as soon as she turns to meet my gaze, I realize that it’s Elena. It’s been a while since I saw my wayward cousin, but she still has the same cold and arrogant look on her face.
God, when I found out that she married Riccardo Messina, I was so pissed! Even now, I can’t help but feel annoyed at the thought of Elena escaping our family with the man she loves while I’m stuck with-
“So, Sasha, how have you been lately?” Yuriy asks all of a sudden, not even looking at me. He aims his cue at a yellow ball and sends it into a pocket before turning to me. “Nikolai told me that you’ve been rather restless for the last few weeks-and I can see it now.”
Yuriy pointedly looks at my red hair and shakes his head in disapproval. Damn it. I swallow, trying to keep my head cool. What has Father told him? What does he know?
“I think Dad is exaggerating. I’ve only been trying to get more information on the Mexicans, so we could use it against them. And my hair…” I unconsciously reach for it, pushing a strand behind my ear. “I didn’t want to be so obvious, Uncle. Everyone knows how to recognize a
Russian in the crowd.”
Yuriy hums, studying the playing field, and something in his stern expression sends a wave of chills down my back. He picks a purple ball as his goal and, after he misses it, Yuriy gestures for Sergei to take his turn and turns to me.
“So you’ve been spying on the Mexicans, is that what you are saying?”
“Yes, Uncle.”
“Well, did you learn something new?” He tilts his head, keeping his gaze on me, and I have to cling to my confidence to hold my chin high. “I’ll be glad to hear whatever information you have on them. I’m sure we’d be able to use it, wouldn’t we, Olya?”
Yuriy glances at his wife, but she only looks at him, at me, and returns back to the game without a single word. It doesn’t seem to bother him, and Yuriy only chuckles and turns back to me with an expectant look in his eyes.
Shit.
Shit!
My heart is pounding by now, and I frantically try to come up with something. The truth is, I’ve been gathering information on Louis for the last month or so, and I have no idea what to tell Yuriy. There’s sweat trickling down the small of my back as I gather my thoughts and force my voice to stay calm.
“I’m sorry, Uncle, but I haven’t found anything useful on them. I need more time.”
“I see.” Yuriy hums, looking unnaturally upset, and turns back to the table. “Is that why you decided to focus on the Italians instead?” My heart sinks. Oh fuck.
“Because, correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve received multiple reports about you sneaking into the Messinas’ territory, and I’m yet to hear your explanation.”
Thank god he isn’t looking at me because, at this moment, I can’t be sure that my expression is as calm as I want it to be. Goddamnit. I did all I could to avoid unwanted eyes and remain unseen in the Italians’ territory, but I guess I wasn’t careful enough to stay out of my own family’s sight. And what am I supposed to say now? Think, Sasha, hurry up!
“Ah, but you’re right, Uncle, I just-when I realized that it was too dangerous to provoke the Mexicans, I decided that it would be better to get something on the Italians instead.”
“You decided,” Yuriy repeats, and my whole body goes cold from the note of steel in his voice. “Since when are you allowed to make decisions?”
I only have enough time to blink and gasp for breath before Yuriy’s hand grips my throat and squeezes so tight that the pain echoes all the way to the tip of my head. I shut my eyes and gasp for breath, rising on tiptoes as he pushes me upward. I don’t dare pull his hand away, so I grit my teeth around the pain in my lungs and focus on Yuriy’s voice.
“Next time you decide to step out of line, Alexandra, remember that you won’t be the only one to get punished.”
Is he talking about Misha? Is he threatening my son? I feel a wave of heated rage in my veins, but I grit my teeth around the curses ready to slip out of my mouth. I’d happily tell Yuriy to go to hell, but I’m not in a position to risk my life. Literally. He could choke me to death here, in front of the other three, and no one would say a word.
“Yes, Uncle,” I finally whisper with the last remnants of my breath. And, after a moment, Yuriy releases me and pushes me away. I stumble over a decorative table with a plant and gasp for air, wincing from the sting in my chest. God, what an asshole.
“Besides, we don’t want our dearest partners to think that we’re planning something against them, right?”
And here he is, back to his disgustingly cheerful persona. I glare at Yuriy, unable to hide my resentment, but thankfully he isn’t looking at me. He’s focused on Elena with a big smile on his lips, and I feel like there’s something more hidden in his words, but I don’t get the privilege of knowing the meaning.
I finally catch my breath and stand upright, brushing myself off. Well, that wasn’t as bad as I expected. I guess Yuriy is in a good mood today.
“Your tricks could put Elena’s position in danger,” Yuriy continues after his turn in the game and looks at me with a scowl. “If it ever happens again, I will not hold back.”
In danger? She’s Riccardo Messina’s wife! But I keep my lips sealed and nod. “Yes, Uncle, I understand.”
I stay with them for another ten minutes just to make sure Yuriy doesn’t get suspicious again. It doesn’t take long for Olga to win the game, and I can’t help but smile a little more genuinely. Watching Yuriy lose is a special kind of pleasure. He hides his displeasure, of course, but he tells me to leave almost immediately after. Finally!
I take a deep breath of fresh air as soon as I step out of the bar, and I can’t help a small smile. God, how wonderful it is to be out and away from Yuriy and his court! I quickly glance around, making sure that nobody’s watching me, and run down the stairs.
Yeah, I’ll have to be extra careful from now on and keep an eye on Misha. I don’t like how easily these jerks throw his name around. They know I don’t care about their threats-no pain or torture can turn me into their blind puppet. But Misha is too young and completely in their power, and I hate it. God, when will I be able to get out of this damn family?
“Sasha, wait!”
Huh? Why does that voice sound so familiar? I frown, unlock my car, and turn around-only to see Elena walking toward me. Oh, she’s the last person I want to talk to right now.
Her high heels clack against the pavement before she stops in front of me, catching her breath, and I only now notice how round her belly is. Wait, is she pregnant? With a tight dress like this, it’s almost impossible to miss. I frown, looking at her belly for a moment too long, and Elena clears her throat and places her palm on it, making me look up at her face.
“I heard what Yuriy said.” She frowns, pretending to look worried. “Is it true that you have a child?”
What? As soon as I hear it, my whole body lights up as if set on fire.
I keep Misha away from my family’s eyes for a reason. It’s enough that Father and Yuriy don’t let him live in peace. Now, she’s gonna tell the Italians, too?
“It’s none of your business,” I say as coldly as possible, trying to keep my emotions at bay, and turn around to my car when Elena catches my elbow.
“Wait, no, that’s not-Sasha, stop! I have a message from Louis.”
As soon as she says it, I freeze in my fervent attempt to get out of her grip. Why would Elena have a message from Louis? What does she know?
“What did you just say?” I turn back to Elena, and she huffs in relief and finally releases my arm to wipe her forehead. It looks like her pregnancy is taking a toll on her energy level, but I don’t really care. “I said that I have a message from Louis. He wants to talk to you.” Louis wants to talk to me? I raise my eyebrows. Is this a joke?
“Do you know the old industrial station in Bedford Park? He’ll be waiting for you there tomorrow at nine. He has an offer, and he wants…”
I chuckle and wave my hands, making her stop. “Wait, are you serious right now?”
Elena shrugs. “Yes, Louis sounded quite serious.”
“Oh, I see.” So it’s not a joke. I smile mockingly, unable to contain the bitter feeling in my chest. That asshole wants to talk now, huh? Well, it’s too late for that. “Then you can tell him to go to hell because only my gun will ever talk to him again.”
I turn away from Elena and clench my jaw, ignoring the ache growing in my heart. After everything, Louis wants to talk. Not apologize, not explain himself, not admit his own cruelty. No, he has an offer for me, how fucking nice. God, I can’t believe I used to be crazy about him.
But I bite back the lump in my throat and open the car door. None of it matters now. I have to pick up Misha from school, and then I have to figure out how to kill Louis without any witnesses.
“Sasha?” Elena calls me again, and even though I’m tempted to close the door right under her nose and drive away, I purse my lips and turn around. Her voice sounds too genuine to ignore.
She meets my gaze with a crease between her eyebrows and a puzzled look in her eyes. “Why do you hate him so much?”
Ah, what a question. I look away and chuckle quietly, my focus drifting through my memories. What would be the best way to explain it?
“Because Louis has made my life a living hell.”