by Tabatha Kiss
Nina looks down at my blood-stained dress. “Why?”
Yuri glances at me from his spot against the wall behind his father’s desk, his eyes quickly falling on Lucian before descending right back down to the floor.
“It doesn’t matter why,” Nikolai says. “Send her back.”
“No,” Luka says.
He jolts out of his chair and takes wide strides around the desk towards us. “You brought a Zappia girl here?” he growls at Luka with wide eyes. “Are you mad?”
“They’re not going back.”
“Luka…” he pauses, talking at him as if I’m not even here. “Zappia family matters are none of our concern. Never have been, never will be. We do not interfere with their way.”
“Niko…” Nina says, staring at the bruise on my cheek.
“You went there to talk to Gio; to get his help,” he continues, his voice growing louder. “Not to take his wife and kidnap his child—”
“The child is mine,” Luka says.
Nikolai falls silent and looks at me, the sheer force of his eyes nearly enough to knock me off my toes. He spins around and puts several angry paces between us.
Nina steps forward, her eyes full of shock. “This boy is my grandchild?” she asks.
“Yes,” Luka answers.
“Are you sure?”
“Just look at him, Ma.”
She moves slowly closer to me, her eyes fixed on Lucian the whole time. I shift my arm and he raises his head with curiosity as Nina studies his face.
“My god…” she whispers, blinking once.
“Gio found out,” Luka explains. “Then he killed Rosalie and went after Sofia. I stopped him.”
“You stopped him?” Nikolai spits. “And I suppose he let you leave peacefully with them after that?”
“Not exactly.”
Nikolai grits his teeth, flexing his jaw in anger as he shifts back and forth on his feet. He looks behind us at Fox. “And who the hell are you?”
Fox hesitates and scratches once at the scar on his cheek. “I helped.”
Luka takes a deep breath. “Pops—”
Nikolai holds up his hand. “Luka, I don’t—”
“There’s more.”
He freezes and his jaw sags. “There’s more?”
Nina lays a hand on my shoulder. “Come with me, Sofia,” she says. “Let’s get you some clean clothes.”
“Nina—”
“Niko,” she counters, firing a hard look at him. “She’s been through enough.”
He backs down, staring at me for a quick second before nodding.
She looks up at Luka, hinting at him to release my hand and we let go of each other.
“It’s okay,” she says to me, smiling softly at Lucian. “Come on.”
We make it halfway down the hall before the shouting begins.
Chapter 18
Luka
“I need to you to tell me, Luka…” my father says, his lips barely moving. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
I don’t answer. Doing so would only admit guilt in his eyes. I refuse to feel guilty about any of this.
He turns towards the windows and Yuri flinches. “Did you know about this?”
“No,” Yuri says. “He told me today.”
“For three years, you’ve kept this from them, Luka? For three years, Gio has raised a child that’s not his own?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t know he was mine until yesterday.”
His face turns a bright red. “You slept with another man’s wife!”
“She wasn’t…” I pause, struggling to keep calm. “Sofia was unhappy. She didn’t want to marry him but she didn’t have a choice. They never gave her a choice.”
“And you thought this would change that?”
“No. But she asked me… she wanted a baby. One that wasn’t Gio’s. It was the only way she could think of to—”
“Not only did you deceive our friend…” he spits, “you did it on purpose?”
“Giovani Zappia is not our friend,” I say. “He planned to take us down.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He ordered the hit on Hans Petrovin; made it look like me to spark a war in Russia.”
He scoffs. “That is bullshit, Luka.”
“Then he tried to have me killed when he found out about Lucian and I couldn’t leave Sofia behind to suffer the same.”
“I don’t blame him after what you kept from him. From all of us!”
“You’re really going to convict me for keeping secrets, Pops?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I glance at Fox and look back at my father. “Why didn’t you tell us about Snake Eyes?”
He closes his mouth, silently fuming as he stares back at me. Finally, his eyes shift and they land on Fox and his black tactical gear. “I suppose that’s who you are, then?”
“Yes, sir,” Fox says.
My father nods and turns around.
“You knew this whole time,” I say. “You knew who they were and what they did and you just let them do whatever they wanted in your city.”
“Of course, I did,” he sighs. “I protected my family. That’s what a father does.”
“Oh, I know,” I nod.
He shakes his head and points a stiff finger at me. “Don’t get smart with me, Luka. You’ve known your child for one day. Do not pretend that makes you a father. You have no idea what being a father really is!”
“I know what it’s not,” I say. “It’s not bowing down like a coward to the damn Zappias while they march through Moscow.”
He squints at me. “A coward?”
“It’s not bending over to those who have shed Lutrova blood.”
Yuri steps forward. “Luka, stop—”
“You think you can do better?” my father asks me.
“Yes.”
“I’d like to see that!”
“You will!”
“That’s enough!”
We all turn and look at my mother in the doorway.
“Everybody go to your rooms,” she orders. “Get some rest. We’ll work through this in the morning.”
Yuri doesn’t question it. He steps around me and offers a quick goodbye to our mother before bolting with his head down. My father lingers behind his desk, silently fuming to himself.
“Where is she?” I ask her.
“She’s in the guest suite.” I move to pass her and she lays a hand on my shoulder. “Leave her be, Luka. She’s had a rough night.”
“I know. I was there.”
“Let her sleep,” she urges. “You wouldn’t want to wake the baby, too.”
“Ma—”
“Spokoynoy nochi, Luka.”
I sigh, sensing her defiant tone. “Goodnight, Ma.”
She squeezes my arm as I move to the door, a silent and subtle show of support but it doesn’t do me much good right now.
“And you,” she points at Fox. “I don’t know who you are but I hope you don’t mind a couch because I don’t trust you in the guest wing with Sofia.”
“No, ma’am,” Fox says. “I don’t mind.”
“Good. Come with me.”
He looks at me before following her and I nod. Fox Fitzpatrick has earned my trust for a night but that’s all. I don’t like his chances of surviving an encounter against Nina Lutrova in her own house anyway.
“Luka…”
I pause in the hall and look back at my father.
“Was it worth it?” he asks from his desk.
My knuckles pop as I unroll my fists. “Yes.”
“Well, I should hope so,” he whispers, slightly smiling, “because you’ve killed us all.”
Chapter 19
Sofia
Lucian sleeps beside me while I lay here, wondering if I’ll ever sleep again.
There are only a few things in this world that frighten me and I’ve experienced every one of them in the last twelve hours. My little sister was slaughte
red in front of me, my child was taken from me, and Luka… I almost lost him forever.
I take a blanket and throw it over my shoulders to block out the cold as I slide off the bed. Lucian doesn’t move, completely lost in a deep sleep. I tuck him in a little more to make sure he stays warm.
The hallway is dark and colder than the bedroom. I pause, instantly feeling watchful eyes on me and I look across the hall to see the guard standing at the end of the wing. My instinct is to jump back into the room and stay there but as he looks over at me, he smiles and nods. There’s no expression of annoyance. No sudden flurry of questions.
“Madam Zappia,” he says with a respectful bow.
I flinch at the name but I offer a kind smile. “Excuse me, where can I find Luka?”
He points down the hall towards the stairwell. “Down the stairs, at the end of the east wing.”
“Not upstairs?”
“No, madam. He’s head of security, so he resides on the ground floor.”
“Oh…” I nod. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I grip the banister in the dark and travel downward, holding the blanket up so I don’t trip on it. The moon lights my path, seeping in through the windows and I look out as I pass, taking in the trees and wildlife. It’s almost strange to not see a giant wall behind it all.
An orange light flickers through a door, sitting slightly ajar at the end of the east corridor. I move slowly, listening to the soft cracking of my joints as I inch closer.
I peek inside to find Luka sitting near a fireplace with a book in his hands.
He senses me instantly. “Sofia?”
“I’m sorry,” I say, retreating. “I didn’t mean to interrupt—”
“Wait,” he says, standing up. “Come back. Please.”
I push the door open, pulling the blanket a little tighter around my shoulders as I glance around. Luka’s room is as minimalist as the rest of the house with a bed in the corner and a desk stacked with books and various objects I can’t make out in the dark. The fireplace crackles quietly, the flame still barely alive, illuminating the space with a pensive atmosphere.
“You couldn’t sleep either?” I ask.
“I rarely do.” He walks over and closes the door behind me. “Are you all right?”
I open my mouth to speak but in the end, I shake my head.
“You’re cold,” he notes.
“This place…” I chuckle, “it’s a little different than Rome.”
“It’s usually warmer at this time of year.”
“Probably not the weather keeping the house ice cold, I’d guess…” I say, recalling the screaming echoing through the halls earlier. “I’m sorry for getting you into so much trouble.”
“You didn’t.” He waves his hand and gestures to the fireplace for me to sit down.
I walk around him and he moves into the corner to pick up a log from a pile of wood stashed there. As I sit down, I loosen the blanket to feel the heat on my skin. “It’s strange…”
“What is?”
“Coming and going through the house without drawing questions.”
He sits down across from me. “Our men serve and protect. They aren’t paid to judge.”
I nod, feeling a little more at ease. “What are you reading?” I ask. He offers me the book and I blink at the foreign alphabet staring back at me. “It’s in Russian.”
“They’re old folk tales,” he says. “Children’s stories and such.”
I flip the book open and thumb through the crinkled, old pages, admiring the unique illustrations scattered about every other page. “Why are you reading this?”
He looks at the fire beside us. “I met my son yesterday and I thought he might enjoy them.”
I smile, watching the flame flicker in his eyes. “He’ll like them very much, I think…”
I turn the pages again, landing on the spot with his bookmark and I pause, somehow recognizing the faded red ribbon marking his place.
“That was yours,” Luka confirms.
I pause, briefly counting the years. “You’ve had this since…”
“I always meant to give it back to you but I never had the chance.”
I strum it with my fingertips, stunned to silence. Luka has kept me with him all this time…
“Sofia, I’m sorry,” he says.
“For what?”
He hesitates for a moment. “I wish I had gotten there sooner… to save her, too.”
I try to banish the blood from my memory but it prevails. “That wasn’t your fault, Luka. That was mine.”
“It was his,” he says. “And that… damn family.”
I run my finger along the ribbon again before closing the book and laying my hand over the hard cover. My diamond ring glistens on my finger in the changing light and a weight twitches my shoulders. This used to feel like a chain binding me to Gio but I am far away from Italy now.
A Zappia no more.
“I guess I don’t need this now…” I say, sliding the ring off my finger. I set it down on the fireplace and relish in the freedom of the act.
Luka stands up and wanders across the room to his desk. “In some cultures,” he says, “destroying a token of affection signifies a divorce.”
He grabs something from a drawer and returns to the fireplace to hand it to me.
A hammer.
“I don’t think divorce is mentioned in Zappia law,” I say. “I believe they take ‘til death do us part quite literally.”
“To hell with Zappia law.” His eyes fall to the ring between us. “Go ahead.”
I hesitate, feeling the weight of the hammer in my grip but it’s almost lighter in comparison to that damned diamond ring.
It’s just a damn ring. Just a tiny rock on a band of gold but it means everything. It’s the only thing I have left tying me to Giovani and the Zappia cult.
I shift, straightening my posture and holding the hammer with both hands. Luka looks on and smiles with amused eyes, waiting with patient anticipation.
I take a deep breath before bringing the hammer down — and I miss.
“Try again,” he chuckles.
I slam the hammer down once more, this time clipping the golden band, jarring a line down the edge. I hit it again, smacking the diamond itself and it rattles free of its spokes. I take one last look at it before crushing it a final time.
The rock shatters and I laugh at the tiny, shimmering pieces laying across the brick fireplace.
“How did that feel?” Luka asks.
“Really fucking good,” I answer, ecstatic tears filling my eyes.
He reaches out for the hammer and I hand it to him to set aside while I cast the bits into the flames.
Now that the weight of the Zappia way melts from me, the guilt for the Lutrovas takes its place.
“Luka, I feel I should apologize to your family and your father...”
He shakes his head as he sits down. “He’ll come around, Sofia.”
“But he’s not wrong,” I argue. “What we’ve done... It will have horrible consequences for all of us.”
“We’ve always known that. Nothing has changed.”
“But, I...”
“Sofia, don’t waste your breath,” he says. “My father might not be wrong but what we did was right and I’d do it again.”
“You would?”
“In a heartbeat. You and Lucian belong beside me, not hidden in the shadows of a whiny tyrant.”
I look at the fire, feeling warmer than ever. “Beside you?”
“Yes.”
“In what way?”
“In every way, Sofia.”
I pause, letting the words sink in for a moment before pulling away. His eyes follow me as I stand up from the fireplace. “Luka, I just fled one from one mafia family. You want me to join another?”
“We’re different than they are.”
“How? Strip away the Zappia name and what makes their business any different than the Lutrovas
’?”
He rises and bridges the distance between us. “You’re right. On paper, we both do bad things for bad reasons but what happened today at the Zappia estate would never happen here. The Lutrova business is built by those that bear the name. That would include you and, someday, that will include our son. Your voice is just as important as mine or my mother’s or even my father’s and not a single person will ever tell you not to use it.”
He lays a hand on my cheek and I feel a shifting warmth from his fingertips.
“And…” His thumb traces a line across the bruise under my eye. “I’d never lay a hand on you, Sofia. At least… not unless you wanted me to.”
I look up at him and his thumb falls to my lips. “Luka…” His mouth brushes against mine and I nearly drop the grip on my blanket.
“What do you want, Sofia?” he whispers, pursing his lips to kiss the edge of my mouth. “Tell me your fantasies.”
The word trembles my spine. “My what?”
Luka kisses me and I pull closer to him like a magnet. His hands crawl inside the blanket and wrap around me. “Your deepest desires,” he says, leaning in to lay his lips on my exposed neck and I melt into his touch. “Tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”
I quiver, unable to think clearly as blooms of pleasure travel off my skin.
He hugs me closer to his taut body. “Sofia...” He whispers my name again and I twitch, falling even harder into his kiss. His tongue parts my lips, invading my mouth and my senses explode.
Luka leans down and picks me up so fast it makes me dizzy. He cradles me close and kisses me again as we wander over to his bed. I cling to him, my head on air, completely devoid of any sense but my desire for him.
He lays me onto his bed and stands over me, staring down at my body. Never have I ever felt so needed or wanted than when he’s gazing at me. I can do nothing but breathe, gently twitching on his pillow as he unbuttons his shirt and discards it to the floor.
I pause, realizing that I have not seen this much of his skin before. That night together was so quick and wild. We never dabbled in sweet anticipation before. I bite my lip, seduced by his pale, tattooed torso. I’d only ever seen the ribbon curling up his neck on one side but now I know it was just the tip of the black ink iceberg. Letters and symbols cover his body, each one telling a story of his life as a Russian mobster.
