Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
I nod, turn away from her, and pace the room. "I understand. I know where you're coming from. How's your mother?"
Even in my own distress, I feel badly for her. It must not be easy seeing her sons go through something like this.
"Oh, Mom’s fine. She takes it all like a champ,” Polina says. "And I think if she didn't already have completely silver hair, she’d get more gray. But you have to keep in mind, this stuff’s been going on for a really long time. She's steeled herself against them. I mean, when Viktor was in grade school, he made the owners of this lemonade stand on the corner pay him protection money, and he’d guard their money. It's kind of hilarious, when you think back on it. And Nikko? Nikko was bad news. He's always been excellent at what he does.”
She pauses. “Not that you know what he does. Uhm, not that I'm supposed to know, either. But let's just say his skill with a weapon started long since before he was old enough to actually carry one. And Lev got in trouble for some petty theft, but by the time he was old enough to get into real trouble – namely, drug dealing? My father was traveling in Europe, and the older guys were all in charge. And they put a very quick end to that. Not that they have any trouble with drugs, like don't get me wrong. They're not exactly good guys? But they didn't want him to get involved with the wrong people.”
Polina continues her efforts to distract me. “Viktor was always, and I mean always, always getting into street fights. He always won, but my parents kept having to pay all these bills for like you know, medical bills and broken property and things like that." She shakes her head. "It's not easy raising a gang of mobsters. So my mom, she's learned a lot along the way."
Turns out, so has Polina.
“What did Mikhail do to get in trouble when he was younger?”
Why am I asking this? Why do I need to know?
She knits her brows together. “His escapades were more like…protecting people he cared about. Like if someone disrespected Mom or double-crossed Dad or something. He has always been so loyal and protective, to a fault.”
I swallow. “What do you mean?”
Why do I want to know?
“He always put other people’s needs above his own, to the point of neglecting sleep or food. And when he lost all those men in one night…”
I blink. “All those men in one night?”
“In the military? When his entire squad was killed? He’d been sleeping in a bunker after an all-night mission, and he came out to find they’d been bombed. He lost all of his brothers, every damn one of them, including the very last one he found still unconscious. He carried him on his back four miles to the nearest medic, only to have him die, too.”
Oh. Oh, God. That’s awful.
“Ever since then he’s sort of just taken on this role of like…protector. Sometimes I wish he’d take better care of his own needs.” Leaning forward, she gives me a hug. “That’s why I’m so glad he has you. Finally, after all these years, he isn’t alone.”
Well that makes me feel like absolute shit. God.
She lets me go and gives my arms a little squeeze.
“Why don’t you join us for dinner.”
I hesitate. "Who's here?"
"Yeah, so…um, everyone. Mikhail made everybody take care of you when he got taken away. Since he couldn't actually protect you himself, he did the next best thing. As we speak, right outside this door, we have all of my brothers. It's kind of ridiculous. I'm sure there are other things I'd like to do, but if they leave your side, when Mikhail gets out of jail, he would kill them. Literally kill them."
I draw in a breath and let it out.
Interesting. I have work to do, and I'm not very hungry. I'm not feeling social right now. Thankfully I have a pregnancy card I can use.
"Okay. Wow. So…it's been a long day, I'm tired.” I just don't feel like it.
There's a gentle knock on the door. When it opens, Ekaterina steps in and shuts it behind her. I've never seen her wearing jeans and a sweater, but she looks younger in them somehow. Her hair is still swept up in an elegant updo, but she doesn't have any makeup on, and she's wearing house slippers.
"How are you, Aria?"
I'm not good.
I don’t know how I’d actually leave him, but I am no longer giving myself to him. I will carry his baby, only because I'm being forced to. It doesn’t make sense for me to leave, because no matter where I go, he’ll find me. I’ll have his child.
But I need to find a way.