by Nicole Fox
The day before, a doctor arrived to examine me and confirm the pregnancy. Dmitry didn’t tell me he had scheduled anything, and he wasn’t at the appointment, but the doctor informed me he would be caring for me as long as I was living in Dmitry’s house. He instructed me how to best care for myself and the growing baby, and it gave me hope that, on some level, Dmitry still cares.
However, when he walks into the sitting room without even a glance in my direction, the hope withers and dies.
He smiles at Tati and tells her what a beautiful job she did on the tree, but when Tati points to me and tells him how much I helped, Dmitry just nods and stares at nothing. Like I’m not even here.
Tati hugs Dmitry and then runs over to hug me again just because. She pulls away and gives me a lopsided grin. Thank you, Courtney.
I kiss the top of her head and can’t help but smile as she runs up the stairs with a string of bells to hang them from the back of her headboard.
As soon as she’s gone, Dmitry turns to leave.
“Wait.” The word is strangled and small, and I worry he didn’t hear it. But then he stops and turns back to me, his eyes focused on a point over my shoulder. I swallow back my nerves. “I ordered most of Tati’s Christmas gifts while I was still in class, but now that I’m on break, I want to go out and get her something else.”
Dmitry nods. “Okay.”
“A pair of dance shoes,” I offer without him needing to ask. “She seems to really enjoy it, and I thought she’d enjoy having a pair like mine.”
He nods again, his jaw clenching. “Okay.”
We stand in silence, a sea of emotion swirling between us, threatening to crash down on me any second. I sigh. “So, can I go or not?”
Finally, he looks up at me, and his eyes are blue and piercing. It feels freezing hot, like when you bury your hands in the snow. My entire body gets chills. “Our contract is over, Courtney. You can go wherever you’d like.”
I can’t say anything. My throat closes, and I can only stand there, frozen and mute as he walks up the stairs and leaves me alone.
When I finally make it up to my room, I feel like I’ve been in a car accident. My body is sore and my mind is a jumble. I don’t want to be here if I’m not wanted. But then again … I want to be here. With Tati. With him. With them. I don’t understand why he hasn’t thrown me out directly, but I’m guessing it has to do with Tati. While it’s humiliating that he’s only kept me around as a glorified babysitter, rather than because of any feelings he has for me …
I’m still not ready to leave.
When I get upstairs, I grab my phone and call my dad. If our deal is over, then I can call him whenever I want.
The phone rings for almost a minute before his voice mail picks up. I hang up without leaving a message. The lump in my throat is impossible to talk around anyway.
I dress in jeans, knee-high boots, and a white knit sweater. My body is on autopilot as confused thoughts swirl around my head. They only grow more confused when someone knocks faintly on my door.
I answer it, expecting it to be Tati, but it’s Dmitry. He’s standing a breath away, the woodsy smell of his cologne overwhelming me. I should take a step back, but I can’t.
I miss him.
“You can go wherever you want, but I’m sending a guard along with you,” he says coldly. “Don’t wander away from him.”
Before I can ask any questions, Dmitry turns and walks down the hallway. Just before he disappears into his office, I see his shoulders heave with a deep breath, and his hand tugs through his hair.
Just as he said, a guard follows me outside and opens the car door for me. He asks where I want to go and doesn’t seem at all concerned when I say I want to return to the mall, the sight of Tati’s near-kidnapping.
I don’t know if the guard is present to protect me or to spy on me for Dmitry. His tone wasn’t as commanding as usual. He sounded worried. I don’t know if it’s about his business—the Italians, maybe? Surely he can’t be worried about me.
I push aside the thoughts as we get to the mall, focusing on Tati instead.
Dmitry’s soldier remains close by but discreet throughout my shopping trip, until I walk into the fifth or sixth store of the day.
There is an audible sigh behind me, but I don’t care. I need to find the perfect shoes for Tati.
She wants a pair just like mine, but mine are several years old. I can’t find the same pair, but I want to get as close as possible. So far, nothing has been good enough, but I hope the high-end sporting goods store will at least have something they can order for me.
There is a small section of dancewear in the back, and I’m scouring the shoe racks for anything that might work when my phone rings. For a moment, I’m disappointed when I see it isn’t Dmitry, but then I realize it’s my father.
“Courtney!” he says jovially when I answer the phone.
“Are you okay?” I ask with a frown, confused by how happy he sounds.
“Better than okay,” he says. “Didn’t Dmitry tell you the good news? I came up with the money.”
“The money? Dmitry’s money?”
“The very same,” he says. “Your deal with him is done. When are you coming home?”
The information is more than I’m prepared to process, so I stumble over my answer. “Oh. Wow. Well, um—” I trail off.
I’m not sure. Now it feels like it was less Dmitry kicking me out and more like he was honoring our deal. Like … maybe he’s not done with me, even though it sure felt like it. But maybe … maybe there’s still hope …
I’d been counting down to this very moment, but I had months left. Months where I expected to get closer to Dmitry. Where I expected him to begin to return my feelings for him.
“Court?” Dad asks, sounding more concerned this time. “Is everything okay?”
Now, our time is up.
“Yeah, fine,” I lie. “Sorry, I’m distracted.”
“Well,” he prods. “When are you coming home, kid?”
The question feels like ice in my veins. “Well, things are a little crazy right now. I have to make arrangements and plan to move my stuff.”
“Stuff?” he asks. “You only went with one duffel bag.”
“I know, but I’ve … accumulated things.” Dmitry gave me clothes and books and jewelry. I assume they’re all mine to keep, though now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t know if I want them anymore. They would only be reminders. “I just need to work out the details. It might be better to wait until after Christmas.”
“After Christmas?” I can’t miss the disappointment in his voice. “Are you sure everything is okay? You sound upset.”
“No, no,” I insist. “I’m fine, really.”
The store shelves don’t have anything I’d want to buy for Tati, and I’m too distracted to bother asking them to order something. I’d rather just do more shopping online.
I step out of the store, the soldier trailing behind me.
“If you’re sure … ” my dad says. “I’m just ready to see you. These last few months have been—”
His words are drowned out by a deafening bang.
The phone falls from my hand, and I drop to the floor instinctively, shocked.
I’m still wondering what the sound was when I realize everyone around me is running and screaming. People are scooping up their children and sprinting in every direction, and it still takes me a few stunned seconds before I find my legs and stand up.
I spin, searching for the soldier, and that’s when I see him lying on the floor behind me.
A gunshot wound to his temple.
Blood is still spreading out around him in a puddle, and I take a stumbling step backwards, horrified. That’s when I feel the barrel of a gun pressed against my spine.
The next words are hot against my ear. “Come with me if you want to live.”
I jolt in surprise and a hand grips my arm. Hard.
“Don’t struggle, or I’ll shoot.”<
br />
I want to fight. I want to scream and run and flail my arms.
But I can’t.
It isn’t only my life I’d be risking, but my baby’s.
So, I turn at the shooter’s command and walk out of the mall, a gun pressed to my spine.
23
Dmitry
The soldier was supposed to text me an update once every hour.
I didn’t put a guard on Courtney because she was my prisoner, but because, as a member of my house, she was in danger.
The Italians have grown into a serious threat, and as angry as I was with her, the thought of sending her unarmed into the world was one I couldn’t bear.
When the third hour passes with no text and no response to any of my messages, alarm bells begin to ring.
I direct Pasha to figure out why I can’t get in touch with the soldier or Courtney, and just as he returns to tell me the news, my phone rings. It’s Lawrence.
Any other time, I would have dismissed the call, but this time, I answer it.
“Hello?”
“It’s Courtney,” Lawrence says, sounding more upset than I’ve ever heard him. “I called her, and then there was a gunshot and screaming. She didn’t pick up the phone again. I have no idea what happened but—”
I pull the phone from my ear and nod for Pasha to speak.
“A shooting,” he confirms. “It’s hitting the news now. Our guy is dead.”
“Shit.” I pick up the phone. “I’ll call you back, Lawrence.” I hang up as he’s babbling something frantic.
“Where is Courtney?” I ask Pasha, grabbing my keys and the leather jacket from the back of my chair. Pasha didn’t say Courtney was dead, only that our guy was. I pray that means she’s still alive.
“No one has heard from her,” Pasha says.
I take a deep breath. That’s better than dead. It means there’s still a chance I can find her.
“Have the nanny keep an eye on Tati and don’t let anyone in or out of those house until further notice.”
“I want to come with you,” Pasha says. “I want to help.”
“You’ll help by staying here and protecting my house.”
He lets out a frustrated heave but nods, and then I’m running. Down the stairs, out of the house, and to the car.
The drive to the mall is a blur of trees and cars, as I swerve through traffic and blow through red lights.
By the time I get to the mall, I don’t care about the police presence. I screech to a stop just outside the barrier they’ve erected and rush to the first officer I see. It just so happens to be the same officer who came to deliver the news of Sadie’s shooting.
“I wondered if I’d see you here,” he says smugly. “Come to confess?”
I glare at him. “I’m here to find Courtney.”
A flicker of alarm crosses his features. “Was Courtney at the mall today?”
“With the guard,” I confirm. “He was supposed to be watching her.”
“Shit.” He grabs his walkie and turns away to speak into it, sharing the news.
“So, I assume you don’t know where she is?” I ask, hoping I’m wrong.
“We have a dead body and no gunmen,” he says sharply. “I was a bit distracted.” Then, he tilts his head to the side. “How did you find out about this so quickly?”
“I just fucking told you!” I snap tersely. “My girlfriend and a guard were here.”
“But Courtney is gone and the guard is dead,” he says, raising a suspicious brow. “So, who told you about the shooting?”
I take a step towards him until we are toe-to-toe. “It’s on the news, and she isn’t answering her phone. Call me a genius, but I put two and two together.”
The officer narrows his eyes. “Would you be willing to speak with one of our detectives? I’m sure we have some more questions for you.”
“I’m sure you do,” I growled. “Unfortunately, I’m going to be a little too busy looking for my girlfriend to participate in this massive waste of time.”
I call every connection I’ve ever had. Every ally I’ve ever depended on.
No one knows anything about Courtney.
“I’ll alert my men to be on the lookout, but I can’t make any promises. The Italians are after us the same as you.” Akio is an older man, closer to my father’s age than mine, and he has never enjoyed the political side of being a mob boss. It was why he and my father got along so well. My father tossed Akio whatever scraps were available and joined his fights when necessary, and Akio stayed out of Tsezar Bratva business.
I, unfortunately, have not maintained the same symbiotic relationship with him.
I thank him and sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose.
I can hear my men moving in the main room, waiting for me to address them, but I don’t know what to say. Aside from suspecting the Italians, I have no leads. No idea where Courtney could be.
Usually, situations like this involve a ransom note, but I’m empty-handed and desperate.
When I walk into the room, their hushed voices go silent altogether, and I feel all eyes on me.
“We’ve been attacked,” I say, stating the obvious. “A guard has been killed and one of our own has been taken.”
There is a rumble of discontent that moved through the room. Vadik is freshly out of the hospital and still sporting a cast after being attacked by the Italians, and he steps forward. “Sorry, but since when is Courtney one of our own? According to Rurik, she’s a slave.”
Rurik.
He was beaten and released days ago, and he’s maintained a low profile since then. I didn’t even bother to message him for this meeting. I’ll reach out to him if I need him, but until then, I want him to know what it feels like to be on the outside, to be at the bottom of the totem pole.
But the damage is done, and the seed has been planted in the minds of the men before me. Courtney isn’t exactly one of our own, but that doesn’t change the way I feel about her.
It occurs to me that it’s even possible this entire attack was a scheme put in place by her and the Italians working in unison … though, I don’t truly think so. Not really.
I can’t imagine her agreeing to a guard being killed. I can’t imagine her being so callous towards human life.
Courtney isn’t like me.
“She’s not a slave,” I say, trying to find the words for what Courtney is to me. So many possibilities. Lies, shades of gray, deferments, and promises of future explanation. But I settle on the truth. “She’s carrying the heir to this Bratva—my child. And when this is done, I will marry her. She will be your leader just as I am, and you will be pledged to protect her, just as you are pledged to protect me. What I’m asking is for your pledge to begin now. What I’m asking is for you to search for her the same way you would search for me.”
Vadik’s eyes are wide in surprise, but as I finish, he bows his head and steps back into the ranks of the rest of the Bratva.
My men agree wordlessly. Without any further complaint, they divide into groups and scour the city in search of her.
I want to join them, but I have to get home. I have Tati to think about.
She doesn’t know Courtney is missing, but she knows Courtney is not home when she should be.
Home. Where she belongs.
Will she come back? Tati asks, bottom lip trembling. Did you kick her out?
No, I didn’t, I say, telling her the truth. I’m looking for her and will bring her home as soon as I can.
She squeezes her eyes shut, tears rolling down her chubby cheeks. Take me with you. She’ll listen to me. I know she will.
I smooth a hand down her shiny blonde hair and kiss her forehead. I can’t, sweetheart, but I’ll be sure to tell her how much you miss her when I see her.
Tati nods slowly, but then her lip begins to tremble with renewed force, and she bursts into tears. I try to lift her face, but she won’t respond to my touch. She buries her face in the blankets, and when I leave her room, I fe
el useless. Helpless.
Without really thinking, I pick up my phone.
Lawrence answers on the first ring.
I give him a brief update on Courtney’s situation, telling him what little I know. “I have my men searching everywhere, but I don’t know anything yet. I don’t know where she’s or if she’s alive or if I will ever find her, and I’m … I’m … ”
“In love with her.”
The man’s words catch me off guard, and I shake my head. “Excuse me?”
“You love her,” he says. “And she loves you, too.”
“Lawrence, your daughter is missing. Now is not the time for this.”
“But it is,” he says, sniffling, letting me know he’s crying. “I told Courtney she could come home earlier, and she resisted. She didn’t want to leave you. Despite everything, my daughter loves you, and I can tell by the fact that you sound more out of sorts than I’ve ever heard you that you love her, too. That’s why you will find her. That’s why I’m not more upset. Because I know you will do everything in your power to bring her back to all of us.”
I want to argue with him, but I don’t have the energy to lie.
I do love Courtney.
I love her fire and determination. I love her kind heart and the way she doesn’t flinch away from me in fear. The way she looks me in the eye and meets me where I am without judgment. Well, without too much judgment.
“I appreciate your faith, but I can’t even hold a seven-year-old together right now. Courtney was better at dealing with her than I am. I’m out of my depth.”
Lawrence sighs. “When Courtney’s mom would leave, I’d give Courtney something of hers—a sweater or a necklace or something. It helped her feel close. Then, I’d tell her her mother would never leave without that item, and she’d come back for it as soon as she knew it was gone.”
At first, I’m tempted not to take his advice. Courtney told me her dad deceived her. For years, he convinced her that her mother would come back when he knew she was gone for good.
