Vice

by Nicole Marsh

  I love when Andrei comes to visit. He, Zoya and Tati are the only true friends that I have. The only other time that I really get to interact with people is during my father’s business events, which are much stuffier than hanging out with Andrei.

  I’m pacing the foyer, waiting for Andrei to ring the bell when I hear murmured voices coming from the front sitting room. Expecting Zoya to be talking with one of the maids on our staff, I quietly push open the door, just enough to see what’s going on. I peek past the door, but the sight that greets me has me gasping as my hand flies to my mouth.

  Zoya is standing, bent at the waist with her hands gripping the back of the couch. Her skirt is flipped up her back and her panties are around her ankles. Andrei stands behind her, with his hands on her hips, his pants undone and his hips thrusting towards her.

  At my gasp, they both turn their heads. Zoya’s brown eyes widen in shock, but Andrei narrows his hazel eyes at me. He doesn’t stop moving, he just orders, “Go wait for me in the Foyer, Katia.” Before turning back to face Zoya.

  I flee from the room with tears streaming down my face. Ignoring his request, I run up to my bedroom and shut myself inside, locking the door and sliding down against it to sit on the floor.

  An hour later, I’m called into my Father’s office. I still haven’t changed from my date dress and my eyes are puffy and raw. I walk down the stairs with my head held high and my fists clenched. I felt heartbroken earlier, but now I’m furious with Andrei and Zoya. They’re both traitors and they’re both going to pay.

  My Father motions me inside and one of his guards closes the door. I settle into one of the leather chairs facing my father. He looks furious which pacifies me. He must be angry at Andrei and Zoya for their actions as well. Andrei broke his promise to me and Zoya is a harlot.

  I wait for my father to start the conversation. We sit in silence for a few minutes before he finally speaks. His voice is low and angry. “Andrei tells me that he caught you spying on him. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “What?” I gasp out. Unable to contain my shocked reaction. “He was fucking Zoya against our couch while he was supposed to be picking me up for our first date! Did he tell you that?” I stutter over the words in my haste to speak. My father doesn’t like when I cuss, but I’m startled that he’s upset with me in this situation. I didn’t do anything wrong!

  He waves his hand in the air, brushing aside my comment as if it were a piece of lint on his suit. “How Andrei spends his time is not your concern.”

  I interrupt his words, as tears of fury build behind my eyes. “He broke his promise to me! We promised that we belonged to each other when I was seven.”

  My Father lets out a humorless chuckle. “YOU promised to be faithful to him, that you belong to him. Andrei promised to take care of you.” He stands up from his desk, walking to the corner where he keeps his drinks. Pouring himself a glass of amber colored liquid, he starts to speak again, “You will be much happier in your marriage, if you don’t worry about how Andrei satisfies his needs that have nothing to do with you.”

  “I’m not marrying him!” I cry out, outraged that my father thinks that I could overlook Andrei’s behavior with my only friend. In my house. On the night of our first date.

  He turns to face me again, sipping on his drink like his life is free of any worries. “Unless you have a million dollars to repay me Andrei’s Father’s engagement gift, you will marry him.”

  My pounding heart is audible in my ears. A million dollars. I’m stuck with Andrei? How could my father not care? I’m his Knyaginya, his princess. Why doesn’t he think this matters? A million more thoughts and question zip through my brain as I sit in the chair, motionless.

  I quiet my thoughts enough to reassure myself. I will get back at Andrei, on my own terms, without my Father’s help. As of today, Andrei is no longer my friend, nor will he ever be my lover. I decide to barter for the only other thing I can think of to help me to keep my sanity. I speak in a quiet tone, “I will keep my obligation to Andrei and his family. But Zoya must leave. I will not study with her, if she remains my tutor I will fail any test that she gives me.”

  My father taps two fingers against the side of his glass, as if he’s thinking about my request. He finally gives a small nod. “I can think of another job for Zoya.”

  I school my face to hide my relief. There’s no way I could spend any time with Zoya without being occupied by thoughts of her betrayal. If she was my friend, she wouldn’t have had sex with my future husband. I don’t have very much experience with friends or dating, but I know that fact for certain. “One last thing, Father?” I say as he heads back to the leather chair behind his desk. “I think that tonight showed me, I’m too young to date. Maybe I could wait before Andrei and I try again?”

  My father gives me a small smile. “I won’t push you into anything, you two have time. We can stick with supervised visits and address this date again in a few months.” He sits down at his desk and pulls some papers towards him. Already dismissing me with his actions. “Anything else, Knyaginya?”

  I shake my head no and get up from my chair. My father’s guard opens the door to let me out and I head up to my room.

  My thoughts are preoccupied with plans to try to get Andrei to break off our engagement. What if I cut off my hair? Or got one of the guards to tattoo me with an ugly wart? I bet Andrei wouldn’t want to date me if I was hideous.

  I don’t notice Andrei in my room, lounging on my bed, until after my door is closed. His words aren’t loud, but they startle me. “Katia. I’m sorry.” He sits up on my bed, holding his hands clasped in front of his chest. His face looks like his words are sincere, but I don’t know if he’s sorry for what he did, or sorry that he got caught doing it.

  I stay standing by the door, about two feet from the bed, silently watching Andrei climb to his feet. He walks towards me with his arms open like he wants to give me a hug. I step to the side out of his path, I’m willing to talk to him, but I don’t want him to touch me. Not after what I saw in the living room. He needs to shower.

  Andrei steps closer again, this time his tone sounds pleading. “Katia, it didn’t mean anything. She doesn’t mean anything. We didn’t even kiss. It was just sex.”

  I let out a forced, humorless chuckle. I’m attempting to channel my father when he meets with members of the Bratva that come to grovel when they haven’t done as he’s asked and they know they’re in trouble. “You made a promise to me Andrei. It wasn’t just sex, it was betrayal. With my best friend.”

  Andrei surprises me by moving quickly across the room and smashing his lips against mine. He holds my head in place with his hand and shoves his tongue against my sealed lips while I push against him, my hands flattened against his chest. When I continue to struggle, refusing to reciprocate, Andrei finally relents, and release me to steps back.

  He shakes his head as he walks to the door, making a scoffing noise before he exits. “You’re so frigid, is it any surprise that I prefer Zoya?”

  Age 17

  I walk into the room among whispers of “Ledyanoy Knyaginya”. Which is roughly translated as “Ice Princess”. I ignore the murmured rumors about me and sit near the head of the table, to the left of my father. Tonight is the feast celebrating my upcoming wedding to Andrei, which will take place three weeks from today.

  The Bratva’s nickname is nothing new for me. It stems from a combination of my looks, long pale blonde hair, pale skin, icy blue eyes, and my determination to spur every advance from my future husband, since I caught him fucking my tutor against my couch two years prior.

  Andrei does nothing to quell the rumors, I think that he believes they will shame me into worshipping him again, as I did when I was a girl. He may have even been the one to start the nickname after I started to deflect his kisses and throw away his gifts.

  We may have to spend our lives together, but it doesn’t mean that I have to like him. Nor do I have to defer to his every comma
nd. At least not yet.

  Andrei is the younger son of the Pakhan in Miami. He had the right breeding and the right amount of funds to secure my hand in marriage and buy himself a prominent place in the arm of the Bratva here in New York. Someday, when my Father decides to retire, Andrei will replace him as the next Pakhan.

  Most of the men love Andrei, he’s hardworking and fair. They tell me he has their back whenever they need it and don’t understand why I treat him so poorly.

  Believe me, the way I treat him doesn’t really matter to Andrei anyways. He’s tall with dark hair and a handsome, albeit it scruff covered, face. He has women throwing themselves at him daily. He doesn’t need me to warm his bed, that’s for certain.

  The dinner tonight is for show.

  To show that Andrei and I will have a strong, happy marriage. To show Andrei’s family that they didn’t waste a million dollars buying my father’s alliance. To show everyone life is good.

  In reality, this dinner is excruciating for me.

  Almost everyone in the Bratva ignores me. Either based on their perception of how I unfairly treat their beloved Andrei or due to the rumors about my cold and humorless personality. On top of being treated with disdain and silence, I have to watch as my future husband across the table for the entire dinner. Forgoing both dinner and subtlety, he spends the night running his hands all over the half-dressed woman sitting beside him as she giggles like a dimwit.

  Moments like these, I wish that I had a mother, to protect me and to fix this. To help me break my engagement and find someone that actually wants to marry me for me. From what I’ve heard, mothers don’t let their daughters marry men that they hate. Men that treat them with disrespect. Unfortunately for me, I don’t have a mother. So I guess I’m stuck with Andrei.

  After dinner I’m standing outside, enjoying a breath of fresh air and peace from the gossipmongers, when I’m approached by a man about my age. He’s good looking, about even with my height of 5’9, but well built, with thick dark hair, and brown eyes. I don’t recognize him, but that doesn’t mean much to me. My father hires new Shestyorkas all the time. Errand boys don’t often last long in our life.

  “My name is Nikolai. I’m your father’s associate, sent to fetch you,” He states quietly upon reaching my spot of solace. I let out a deep sigh. I knew my peace wouldn’t last long. Turning back to face the house, I’m resigned to finding my father, but Nikolai throws his hand out stopping me from moving forward. “This way,” He urges, pulling me to the side of the house, “He asked me to bring you around the side to the front. I don’t want to upset him, I’m new.”

  Father has odd requests all the time and I don’t want to upset him either. I follow Nikolai, stumbling atop the grass in the dark, my heels catching on each dip and divot in the ground. The only thing keeping me upright is Nikolai’s firm grip on my upper arm, dragging me behind him at a quick pace. “Can we slow down?” I huff out, “Father will be very upset if I come into the house dirty.”

  Nikolai ignores my request and continues to drag me to the front of the house. I’m starting to grow concerned by his odd behavior, when another man I recognize appears ahead of us. I let out a sigh of relief, about to call out his name, when a rag covers my mouth, stifling any noises I make.

  I try to shove the rag away from my face to scream, but my arms are roughly shoved behind my back. With each inhale I struggle less, losing feelings in my arms, my thoughts turning fuzzy. Soon, all my limbs feel too heavy to move. The last thing I see before everything goes dark, is the side door of a van opening. Inside, a man in a ski mask frantically ushers Nikolai forward.

  …To be Continued.