Chapter 37 Episode 37

They both nod, looking ashamed, and then part to let me through. They’ve been hovering as soon as I told them the news. As we get ready to clear out, I turn and give The Plaza’s kitchen a final look. I’d been looking forward to cooking here. But most chefs don’t come back from being unceremoniously fired. There’s very little chance I’ll ever get another opportunity to cook at The Plaza. And if Anton has his way, there’s no chance I’ll ever get another opportunity to cook again, period. I’m so mad I could cry. But I hold back. He might not be here to see the tears fall, but I get the feeling that sick bastard has a spidey sense for this kind of thing. And I won’t give him the satisfaction. We take the second entrance out of the kitchens and go down to a common area. I can see the majestic double doors of The Gilded Room adjacent to where we’re standing. I’m ready to take the elevator down with Craig and Penny when I spot Yulian exiting The Gilded Room. He doesn’t stop me. He’s too deep in conversation with someone on the phone. He crosses the open expanse and heads towards the balcony on the other side of the hall. I glance after him a moment, curious. I don’t actually have a good reason to follow him, other than to maybe throw myself at his mercy and see if he can get Anton to change his mind. That’s pathetic, obviously, and I won’t be doing it, but still… There has to be something he can do. “Jessa?” Craig calls after me. “You coming?” “Um, actually you guys go ahead. I need to… to make a call.” They hesitate, but I wave them on. “Seriously, go on. I’ll call you guys tomorrow.” Craig has to physically pull Penny towards the elevators. I wait until their backs are to me before I follow Yulian’s footsteps to the balcony. The Plaza’s balconies are more like private terraces. They’re large and broken into separate seating areas. Each corner is dedicated to a cluster of upholstered sofas and armchairs with flickering candles on the tables. The space between is filled with lush, dense greenery, a natural kind of privacy screen. And standing against the railing is Yulian. “… miss me, do you?” he’s saying into the phone. I raise my eyebrows. Not the kind of conversation I’d expected to hear from him. I make an added effort not to make noise as I move a little closer. The wind masks my footsteps pretty well, but he also seems deeply absorbed in the conversation. “I know. Don’t worry, I’ll come by soon. We can have some alone time, just you and me… Of course, baby. You know I’d do anything for you. You and that magic p***y of yours.” I wrinkle my nose. The cute conversation has taken a turn toward not-so-cute. I’m regretting my decision to eavesdrop and wondering whether he’ll be able to hear me vomiting into the pot of the nearby bonsai tree. Thankfully, he ends the call seconds later. “Speak to you soon.” He realizes I’m there a second after he hangs up. His eyebrows jet up with annoyance, but he doesn’t flinch otherwise. “How long have you been there?” “Too long,” I say, turning my disgusted face on him. “Who’s the girl with the magic p***y?” He smirks. “Not anyone you’d know.” “Sounded serious between you two.” He rolls his eyes. “If you knew me, you’d know that I’m not serious about anything.” But I can tell immediately that he’s lying. He’s trying to salvage his reputation and erase the last minute from my memory. “No,” he reiterates. “Being serious isn’t my inheritance.” “Because you’re the second son?” He shrugs. “Something like that.” “A little archaic, don’t you think?” He shakes his head. “People like to think of themselves as superior. We’re so modern these days, so progressive, so open-minded… it’s all bullshit. We’re primitive f*****g animals. Always have been, always will be.” “Agree to disagree,” I mumble. His anger is a little off-putting. There are reservoirs of rage in this seemingly nonchalant, happy-go-lucky guy that are much, much deeper than I realized at first. “No, I’m right. Care for an example? Take you and my brother,” he starts. I tense immediately. “He’s the big bad wolf, and you’re the little lamb who got caught in his crosshairs. And even though you’re supposed to be running in the other direction, you’re not. Why? Because at the end of the day, women crave a strong man. A powerful one. They can talk all they want about evolution and growth and intelligence and choice and respect and feminism and on and on and on. But at the end of the day, power is what attracts you the most.” I straighten up haughtily. “That’s not true.” “Oh, it’s true alright. If you disagree, then you’re just in denial.” “I would love nothing more than to run in the opposite direction from your prick of a brother, Yulian,” I snap. “Except I have a feeling the son of a b***h will chase me wherever I go. That’s why I kept the phone. It’s my last line of defense.” He rubs the bridge of his nose as if he’s tired of lecturing to me. “Let me be straight with you,” Yulian sighs. “I know you think the phone gives you security, but it’s a false sense of security. My brother will get what he wants in the end. He always does.” “It’s the one thing I know to be absolutely true.” “Then tell me something else that’s true,” I say. “Did he kill his wife?” Yulian goes still. Deadly still. His eyes traverse my face, searching for a way to answer this that’ll appease me and shield his brother at the same time. The hesitation itself feels like an answer, though. I feel cold despite the warm evening. Bone-deep cold. Soul-deep cold. “He… wouldn’t have killed her,” he says at last. “That’s not very clear. Nor is it very comforting.” “Are you really trying to be comforted?” he asks. When I don’t answer, he leans closer. “My brother has gone easy on you, Jessa. And I’m not gonna lie, it’s because you’ve got a pretty face and a prettier smile. But he’ll get bored at some point, and then the protection you think you have will disappear.” I stand my ground, even though I’m shaking in my clogs. “Sounds like you’re telling me he killed his wife, Yulian.” He c***s his head to the side. “I’m telling you to be smart and give my brother his phone back.” “Did you like his wife?” I ask. He stops short, looking amused by the question. “Curious about her, are you?” He nods, his smile getting wider. “Funnily enough, she looked a lot like you. Beautiful, blonde… a little skinnier, maybe. A little more cunning. But definitely similar.” I swallow past a suddenly bitter knot in my throat. “But what was she like?” “Strong. Feisty. Determined,” he says. “She was a wildfire. He couldn’t control her.” I stare at Yulian’s face. His eyes are hazy; he’s losing himself to old memories. Maybe if I can convince him to keep talking, I’ll get some real information out of him. “I can’t imagine Anton not being able to control anyone.” He smirks. “I thought the same thing before Marina came into the picture. Honestly, when the match was first proposed, everyone thought it was an amazing idea. They were perfect together. Not just because they looked perfect together. It was everything: the birth and the breeding. The combined wealth and power.” His explanation leaves me feeling hollow inside. It’s a black hole in my chest and it’ll swallow me up if I lean too close to it. So instead, I just listen, hanging on to every word, even as I lose sight of why I asked the question in the first place. Why I bothered coming out here in the first place. “Even their personalities were similar,” he’s saying. “It should have been a match made in heaven.” “The first year was more or less smooth,” Yulian recounts. “At least as far as I could tell. They probably f****d so much that there was no time to hate or argue. Hard to pick a fight with a d**k in your mouth, right?” But he ignores me like I never spoke. “But when the s*x got stale, they must have realized that they were too alike to actually get along. That’s when the fights started. Nasty fights, too.” He says it in a matter-of-fact way, as though violence toward someone you love is normal and they were just doing what was expected of them, what they’d been taught. “My brother is not one to air dirty laundry in public, but Marina loved a scene. Probably because she knew how much Anton hated it.” Yulian shakes his head and looks at me as if seeing me for the first time. “I think she was just unhappy.” “But why?” I ask. “From what you’ve told me, she had everything. Looks, wealth, and a powerful husband.” “Except she didn’t really have him,” Yulian says, giving me a secretive smile. I raise my eyebrows. “He was cheating on her?” Yulian doesn’t answer me. “It was doomed from the start. After the first major fight, they both walked away with scars.” He chuckles. “Both, most likely. Marina wasn’t afraid to draw blood.”