Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
I think maybe he’s trying to tell me that Nikolai is not a good man. He doesn’t need to say so. My heart still hurts from the memory of last night.
“Does he treat you well?” Alexei asks.
I find myself nodding on autopilot, though I’m not sure why. It’s probably not wise to say anything else. Their hatred runs deep, but guaranteed, their loyalty runs deeper. It’s the mafia way.
“Why did you come to dinner tonight?” I ask. “If you don’t get along with him?”
Alexei responds with a flippant gesture of his hand. “I’m not sure. We still have business to discuss.”
Nonna returns with another course of roast and vegetables. While Nikolai is absent, I decide to eat a little because it smells good.
“If you stay here long, perhaps you can come visit my wife sometime,” Alexei suggests. “She could use a friend.”
My fork halts, and I look up at him.
A friend.
I’ve never had a friend. I wouldn’t even know what that relationship entails, but the opportunity sounds too good to pass up.
“I would like that very much,” I answer. “What is her name?”
For the first time since his arrival, there is a sign of life in Alexei’s eyes. “Her name is Talia.”
“Talia,” I repeat. “It’s a beautiful name.”
“She’s a beautiful woman.” He smiles. “But she is not yet familiar with this world, and I fear that it makes her an easy target.”
I nod in understanding. Growing up in this life, I’m intimately acquainted with the baggage that comes with it. But for an outsider, it can be disorienting, I’m sure.
Alexei retrieves the phone from his pocket and wakes the screen. “I have a photo of her. Let me show you.”
It’s probably not appropriate of me, but I stand and move to the other side of the table. I’m eager for the opportunity to leave this house, even if only temporarily. The idea of having a friend fills my heart with hope.
Alexei hands me the phone, and I stare at the photo, cataloging the details of the woman on the screen. She is beautiful, but there is also something heartbreaking about her. The gray eyes staring back at me are haunted and sad, and I’m left to wonder if she’s happy with her husband. And then I wonder why I would even question it.
What mafia wife is ever happy?
I want to assure him that she’s beautiful, which is probably what he wants to hear, but instead, I tell Alexei that she looks like she could use a friend. He nods, and it takes him some time to drag his eyes away from the photo.
“She has not had an easy life,” he admits. “And I don’t know that I make her happy, but I try.”
The profound level of sorrow in his voice provokes me to do something I probably shouldn’t. But I reach out and touch his hand, if only to let him know there is always hope.
“Will you tell me about her?”
For the remainder of the meal, we get lost in conversation. He opens up about his wife’s background, giving me intimate details about someone I’ve yet to meet. But I can see that it’s what he needed, and when I hear her heart-wrenching story, I feel like we are friends already.
After such a deep subject, the natural progression is to move on to lighter topics. Alexei explains his position within the Vory, their hierarchy, and some of their customs. The things he tells me are not so different from my own family’s codes, and I’m surprised to learn that I even find some of their practices more agreeable.
It’s when we are on the matter of children that Nikolai chooses to return. The timing isn’t ideal, considering he left us as strangers and returns to find me leaning in to study more of the photos on Alexei’s phone. The flash in his eyes as he examines the narrow distance between us warns me that his mood has only darkened, but for the first time in as long as I can remember, I’m enjoying myself, and I know he’s about to ruin it.
“You are dismissed, Nakya,” he thunders. “Go to your room.”
Not about to argue with his tone, I move to get up, but Alexei halts me with his hand on my arm. “She can stay.”
A silent war rages between the two brothers while I remain in my seat, hands clutched in my lap. The game of trying to provoke Nikolai is no longer fun, and at the end of the day, it is him I must answer to.
“Perhaps I should go to my room,” I volunteer.
“I think perhaps you should stay here,” Alexei argues. “It’s not a problem, is it, bratan? You trust me, yes?”
Nikolai’s nostrils flare, and I can’t be sure, but I’m beginning to think I have become the proverbial stick between the two.