Chapter 36 Episode 36

She freezes for a moment. “Oh.” That expression tells me everything I need to know about her: that I’m right about what the little kotyonok thinks of me, what she thinks of herself, what she thinks of this dangerous dance we’re locked into. And my reaction to the crestfallen look in her eyes tells me everything I need to know about myself: that at some point in this game, I got in deeper than I realized. Toying with her sporadically isn’t enough. Tasting her from time to time no longer satisfies. I want to swallow her whole. But weakness is the last thing I need right now. And if there’s one thing that marks a don as weak, it’s losing his mind over a silly little girl. So I do the only thing I can do—straighten up and leave. “I trust you know your way out,” I say as I go. “If not, just follow the signs for the staff staircase at the back.” I can feel everyone’s eyes on me when I emerge. I ignore them all and glide through the room in search of the old f**k. Yulian finds me before I can find Ivanov. “Is it true?” “Is what true?” I ask impatiently, still scouring the crowd in search of my sullen-faced father-in-law. “That you were in there banging Jessa?” “f*****g hell,” I growl. “Jhené couldn’t wait to spread that rumor, could she?” “First of all, it’s not a rumor if it’s true. And second of all, you know Jhené is as spiteful as she is hot.” “f**k Jhené. Where is he?” I demand, ready to put this conversation to death. “In one of the private rooms. He wants to speak to you alone. Lev’s with him now.” “Stay out here and hold down the fort for me,” I say, heading in the direction he’s pointed out. “Wait!” Yulian calls, following after me. “I have to stay here?” “I need a man watching the rest of these piranhas,” I point out. “And I trust you.” “This is grunt work,” he complains. “And you’re the best at it.” He throws me a glare. “Asshole.” Clenching my jaw, I head into the room that Ivanov and his men are in. The windows along one wall show the southern swathes of the city twinkling in the night. Lev stands fidgeting off to the side, clearly impatient for me to arrive. Ivanov is sitting on one of the high-backed black velvet chairs. A freshly-lit cigar dangles between his fingers. He must keep a whole damn Cuban factory in business, because he’s been smoking two or three of the same brand every single day for as long as I’ve known him. The smell makes my hackles rise at once. “Rodion,” I growl. “Glad you could finally join us.” He gives me his best imitation of a smile, which is eerie and unsettling in its own way. Like an alien pretending to do what humans do. “Business held me up. You understand.” “Of course,” I say, even though he isn’t really asking for my understanding or my forgiveness. “You’re here now.” “So, it seems, is the entirety of the underworld. The ones that matter, at least.” He’s gained weight since I last saw him. He’s still not a large man by any means, but he was always so slim that even the slightest difference stands out. The circles under his eyes are more pronounced now, too. He looks like a caricature of a villain, pale and paunched and puffing on that damn cigar. “I wouldn’t bother with them if they didn’t matter,” I say coolly as I sink to the seat opposite him. Lev remains standing. I’ve made it clear that he doesn’t need to play bodyguard when we’re in these kinds of situations, but he prefers to. He gets a strange sense of security out of it. “Not all that glitters is gold,” Rodion advises. I smile. “Otets used to say that a lot.” “He was a wise man in his time,” he says. “I can’t say the same for the men I’m forced to rub shoulders with these days.” It’s a more pointed jab than I’m expecting. Kudos to the old man for sacking up. Maybe his daughter’s death was the catalyst for him to finally grow a pair. “Well, then I should have invited you sooner.” Rodion glances towards the window. “Marina loved this hotel.” Jumping straight to it, then. So be it. It’s better that way. I don’t want to be stuck in this room any longer than I have to be. “I know,” I say. “I brought her here on our third wedding anniversary.” “Is that the anniversary you gave her the black eye?” Rodion asks. “Or the one where you gave her the scar down her leg?” I can feel Lev tense behind me. The atmosphere in the room changes, but I refuse to lose control of the situation. “I don’t recall the black eye,” I say smoothly. “And as for the scar on her leg… she gave that to herself.” “There’s a lot your daughter did that you didn’t know about,” I tell him, refusing to pull my punches anymore. “Did you know that she got pregnant at seventeen?” Rodion’s whole face seems to puff up suddenly, like a bird fluffing its feathers before an attack. “Of course she didn’t. Don’t be preposterous.” “Remember that ski weekend she wanted in the Alps right before her high school graduation?” I press. “She didn’t go to Switzerland, Rodion. She went to Austria to abort the baby.” Just when I think he’s about to attack, his face drains of color. He stares back at me, pale and shaken. In this moment, he very much looks like the old man he is. “The father was someone who worked for you, by the way. He probably still does. She never actually gave me his name.” “Why would she even tell you the story?” Rodion demands, grappling at straws now. “We were in the middle of a fight. She wanted to reveal something about herself that would… shock me? Impress me? I don’t know her motivation. Maybe she just wanted me to know what she was capable of,” I say. “The point is, she threw it in my face one day, about a year into our marriage. I know she loved to visit you, Rodion. Loved to tell you about our fights, our lowest lows. Did she ever tell you that little story from her past?” The man just stares at me, ashen-faced and speechless. Good. It’s long past time to dispel him of these stupid notions. “She was not the shrinking violet you paint her as. She fought and she fought hard,” I say. “Had no reservations; she gave as good as she got. I’m no fool, Rodion—I’ve heard the rumors. I deny them all. I had no hand in Marina’s death. She did that herself.” His mouth opens and closes for a few seconds before he finds his voice again. “She… she may have had secrets… but that does not mean she killed herself,” he says finally. “I don’t think she meant to kill herself, Rodion,” I say calmly. “I think she was trying to get what she always wanted: attention.” His eyes go wide, ready to resort to anger. But I stop him with a raise of my hand. “You can’t deny she loved causing a scene. She did it often.” “Your little girl wanted to get my attention. Maybe she wanted more of yours, too,” I shrug. “But she overplayed her hand just like I always knew she would. She got more than she bargained for. She got all the f*****g attention she wanted and then some.” Rodion bristles, rising in his seat. The cigar in his fingers trembles like a warning. “I will not sit here and—” “Our families’ friendship has meant a lot to me, Rodion,” I interrupt. “I don’t want to destroy what my father built. I’d like to carry it forward. But first comes accepting the truth about your daughter. I did not kill her. The people who started that rumor only seek to benefit from divided loyalties. Surely you can see that?” Rodion falls silent for a moment. I can see him contemplating his choices. And I can see him coming to the realization that he doesn’t have many. He’s not happy about it, but he nods anyway. “There was never a question about it, Anton,” he says. “The Stepanovs and the Ivanovs are brothers-in-arms.” I return the fake smile he’s giving me. “My thoughts exactly.” I hate the way Penny and Craig are looking at me. The pity on their faces makes me feel about two feet tall. Like I’m the one who did something wrong, as opposed to the self-righteous asshole who just humiliated me in the one safe haven I thought I had left. “You’re the most talented chef I know,” Penny says, handing me my bag. “Seriously, the only reason you’re not head chef is because of the whole seniority hierarchy. Which is complete bullshit, for the record.” “Yeah, you’ll get a job in no time.” Craig hesitates before curiosity gets the better of him. “Did Melissa say why?” The rest of the staff filed downstairs already, so we’re the only three left in the kitchens. “Guys,” I say, turning to them, “I’m thankful for your support, seriously, but I think I need time to process this.”