Knox Brotherhood

by Knox, Elizabeth

  “When do you meet with them?” he asks

  “There wasn’t a specific time dictated. Sometime tonight, I was hoping to get a couple more hours of sleep before I have to get ready and prepare for it.”

  I hear a “hmm” pass through his lips. “If you can get me up there I’m sure I can be there by six eastern time.”

  “You don’t have to be here. I can do this by myself,” I tell him. I am strong, and I do not need anyone by my side to make sure I do what needs to be done. I am no fragile little girl.

  “I know I don’t gotta be there. I’m just saying I can be there for you, if you want me to. You know you don’t have to go through all of this alone, don’t you?”

  I know I don’t, but I have always had to. I guess I am used to it at this point. Sure, I had Sergei, but it was completely different circumstances. I didn’t have him in the way that I think I have Junior. I stood beside Sergei, and from the looks of it, Junior stands with me.

  It is drastically different.

  He doesn’t have to be here. He wants to be here. “Okay, I will make arrangements, but after this, we must go back to Tennessee. I am sure my business with Mariana will be done with today, which means I need to talk to Dmitri and Ksenia again. They need to listen to me this time,” I add, not sure that they will listen to me at all. I don’t blame them, but they should give me a chance. I only have good intentions at heart.

  “Alright. You text me the info to the hotel, and I will meet you there after I land, and Viper?”

  “Yes?”

  “Sleep, sweet baby. I’ll be there in a few hours.”

  The line goes dead, and I make arrangements to get Junior to New York, then set my phone back down on the bedside table. Falling back, I think about the man who is flying across the country to support me. I am realizing that I compare him to Sergei, and I shouldn’t. Junior is so much better. He is an entirely different man, one that I can see myself falling for slowly. Maybe he is a man worthy of my love.

  ***

  Junior got to the hotel a little after five thirty in the afternoon. I was applying my eyeliner when he plummeted through the door and scared me half to death, almost destroying the beautiful cat eye I was in the process of finishing.

  Since changing my hair and look I have decided it would be best to change the way I present myself. The old Katya is dead, after all. I need to finally accept that my life is my own, and no one holds my future in the palm of their hands besides myself.

  “Have I told you how much I love your fucking hair?” he growls, taking a step behind me, pressing himself into my lower back. “It suits you, dark and sexy as shit. Silver is your color baby.”

  I smile, looking up at his reflection in the mirror I grab a dark red lipstick and apply it slowly over my lips all the while staring at him, not breaking contact from his eyes even once.

  “Ion called. I am to meet them in thirty minutes at a restaurant one of his associates owns. I told him to expect two of us and took the liberty of getting you a suit and shoes.” I smirk at him, taking my hand through my hair and tucking it behind my ear. I am good to go, but I can’t wait to see how Junior looks all suited up. He is a man that I believe can pull off many looks, including outlaw biker.

  I walk over to the closet where I had the courier place it, pulling out the black garment bag. I unzip it, revealing a dark navy-blue Armani suit I hoped would fit him. The deep color of the blue compliments my burnt yellow dress well. We already complimented one another as a couple. I figured that our attire should too.

  Junior strips himself bare, putting item after item on until he needs a little help with his tie, which I of course go to assist him with. He places his hand around my neck, touching the top of the collar that goes halfway up my neck, tracing the metal zipper that will slowly unravel my dress in just an instant. I have always dressed sexy, it was somewhat of a requirement in this business. You want to exuberate the power you hold, but this is different. I not only feel sexy. I feel confident, and I cannot say that I have felt much of that as of recent.

  CHAPTER 23

  Don’t rush the process. Good things take time. -Wholeheartedwomen.org

  Katya

  I had a town car take us to the restaurant that Ion and Mariana insisted on meeting us at. I understood their reasoning, it was a smart decision. If I was in their position I would have done the same thing. They both must know the ins and outs of the restaurant since it belongs to one of his associates. It is a safety concern, and I understand why they would chose a familiar place to the both of them. By now, I am sure he has done a fair bit of research on me, and who I was once married to. Not everyone knows that Sergei and I are separated, that we are no more. I will not be shocked if Ion does not know this either.

  As we arrived at the restaurant, we were greeted by goons who searched us both and took us to the back of the restaurant, onto an elevator that lead us to a private area. It was as luxurious as most I have seen, reminding me of some of the restaurants I had been to in Moscow. Gold and black almost lined every surface, the textures complimenting one another so effortlessly. It made the decorator inside of me jump for joy.

  “Katya. So, we meet again,” Ion greets as he steps up from his seat, taking ahold of Mariana’s hand and walking her towards Junior and me.

  “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Ion, and to formally meet you, Mariana,” I add, looking over my sister. She almost looks exactly like our mother; the similarities are uncanny and terrifying. It is almost as if she is a replica. I can only hope that she just inherited our mother’s looks and not her undeniably selfish attitude.

  “You too,” she says clearly, staring me in the eyes as if she is searching for something. I can only imagine that after so long it is odd to find out you have another sibling, and to discover that the woman she knew was not the woman I knew. I do often wonder if our mother was actually that to Mariana, a mother and not a selfish wench who cared more about her own life than the lives of her children.

  “And you are?” Ion asks, looking to Junior.

  “With Viper.”

  Ion looks puzzled for a moment, glancing back from Junior to me. “It’s my nickname for her, I’m her man.”

  Ion’s look turns to more confusion as he looks to Mariana and chuckles slightly. “Pardon me for my rudeness, but aren’t you Sergei Kolosov’s wife?”

  “Ex-wife,” I firmly tell him. “We have been separated for months.”

  “Ah. My mistake then.” Ion urges us to join Mariana and he for dinner and drinks, to which we both accept. Junior sits next to me, our legs touching one another, his arm around my shoulder. It is a small gesture that gives me much comfort. I would never admit it, but I have been nervous since we entered the restaurant, not exactly sure what would come from tonight. At this point, all has been going well. I seem to be waiting for the ball to drop, though.

  After we have finished our meal and start on our second round of drinks, I begin to speak business. I was always taught it was better to get to the point after food and drinks have been passed. After all, family first, business second. “I am all for speaking small talk and having a good time, but we must speak about more pressing matters.”

  Ion nods his head in agreement, and Mariana follows quickly.

  “When Ion told me about you coming to our home and saying what you did, I would be lying if I said I believed every word of it, so we had your hair analyzed against each mine. You could imagine my shock when I received a call confirming that we were half-sisters and shared the same mother. He told me as much as he could, but obviously you and I need to discuss what you know, opposed to what I know.”

  “Yes, we do,” I agree, taking the glass of white wine in front of me, pressing it against my lips and taking a sip of the light sweet liquid. I set it back down before I begin to speak. “I am sure that you know we share the same mother, obviously, I am a bit older than you, and I can guarantee we have shared different experiences with her parenting… style. What d
id she tell you about her lineage?”

  Mariana makes a face when I mention our mother’s parenting style. “She told me when I was a teenager about her biological father being Volkolv. No one besides me knew about that, just the two of us. I hadn’t shared it with my husband until recently, until he told me about your visit.”

  “Good. So, you must understand that because of your combined bloodlines from both the Vasile’s and the Volkolv’s that you have a strong chance of taking the Bratva from our uncle. Yes?”

  Mariana’s face twists as she looks to her husband. “It is possible,” he tells her.

  “I don’t want the Russian Bratva. I have enough problems dealing with The Clans and making sure they are in order, not to mention ensuring that the asinine rules we have recently abolished are being maintained accordingly. Another mob would ensure nothing but another headache for me. I don’t need another headache when I have plenty already,” she tells me, and through every word I can understand her frustration.

  I know of the rules she speaks of. Previously, the Clans had a rule stating that all women did not have a say, even if they were the only surviving heir to a Clan. Their husband, or son was to take over control when they were able, or when they became of age. Mariana had wanted to change that, and from the looks of it, she has.

  “Our dear uncle does not know that, sister. It is not like he would care anyway. He views us all as a threat, you are the biggest one. He only wants one thing. All of us dead.”

  “He will have a hell of a time trying to get to her,” Ion growls.

  “I can say the same about this one,” Junior adds.

  “The point is, he is going to do everything that he can to kill us all. I am only here because I wanted to warn you of this. I do not expect us to have some big sisterly relationship, I am simply here to tell you that you need to be careful and to try to prevent our monster of an uncle from succeeding.”

  “I understand, and while Ion may have been an ass to you when you first met, I would like to apologize for that. I think you can understand he was just watching out for me.”

  “Yes, I can. You can tell that his love for you is strong based on his actions.”

  “It is,” Mariana murmurs, looking over to her husband who smiles back. They look like two young people in love, even though they have been together for quite a while now. “What about Dmitri and Ksenia?” I told her a little bit about them, mainly their names and not much else. “Will the three of you be okay?”

  “It is a bit complicated between the three of us,” I tell her.

  “How so?”

  “My childhood was not like yours, so you could not possibly understand. I had to make tough decisions then and now, and they did not like some of them.”

  “Do not tell me that I can’t understand. I was taken as a fucking prisoner for years. You can’t tell me that I don’t understand,” Mariana spits out at me. I can tell that our fierce anger is a family trait.

  “Our dear mother sold us to human traffickers. She sold Dmitri first, then a few years later she sold Ksenia and myself. That is how I ended up with my ex-husband, because I was his slave. I was his pet, his little toy, until I decided enough was enough and made him make me more than just an object.”

  “No. She would have never…” Mariana whispers, dumbfounded and in pure shock that our mother did this to us. “I know my mother, she would never have put me in harm’s way like that.”

  “She may have been the same person, but she was two entirely different parents with each of us. I am sure you must understand that,” I tell her, anger boiling through my blood. It is not Mariana’s fault that our mother was so selfish, though. “We should leave it at that, or it will make me furious,” I mutter, taking another sip of wine and refusing to look at her.

  “Fine. Then what will you do about Dmitri and Ksenia?” Mariana asks, and I for once I do not have an answer.

  “I am sure they will come around,” I tell her.

  “Forgive me for being crass, but fuck that. We are all family. A family, that I didn’t even know existed until Ion told me. I don’t care about all the bullshit with our mother and what she did. What I care about is that we all stay alive, so if they won’t listen to you, then I can damn well promise they will listen to me,” she growls. Ah, so it seems our relentlessness is a family trait as well. I feel as if Mariana and I will be getting along well.

  “I am leaving tomorrow to go back to see them. I will let you know what happens after I see them.”

  “After we see them,” she corrects me. “You aren’t going alone. I will be going with you, and I’m sure that my lovely husband and our men will be tagging along. Meet us at the airport, and we will fly together. It will give us time to get to know one another a bit better, and you can meet your niece, Bianca.”

  Initially, I do not think it is such a good idea, but as the moments pass, I realize that accepting help isn’t the worst thing in the world. “Okay.”

  CHAPTER 24

  You are the poem I never knew how to write, and this life is the story I have always wanted to tell.

  - Tyler Khott Gregson

  Slasher

  “That didn’t go as bad as I thought,” I tell Viper, walking her down a dimly lit New York City street. Neither of us wanted to take a taxi the entire way back, there was something about walking around the city that always calmed me down. I haven’t been back in New York since last year, when Chuckles decided to carve my face into a million mother fucking bits. I didn’t even want to come here. Not because I was afraid of running into the members of Iron Vex, but because of the memories that haunted me to this day. I was made to feel my most weak, something that I never wanted to feel. I felt helpless after Chuckles did that, not just on that day, but for an eternity afterwards as well.

  “It could have gone much worse. Honestly, I did not expect it to go as it did… for her to offer to help…” I take her hand, squeezing gently. None of this can be easy for her. Katya always keeps a strong head on her shoulders, and she would rather die than show anyone an ounce of emotion. She is the strongest woman that I have ever had the luxury of knowing, it and makes me a better man for standing by my side.

  In a way, I think that we both reflect one another, and it’s why we’re so attracted to each other.

  We’re the same, it just took me until today to realize that.

  “Tomorrow, things will change for us all,” I mutter as we walk past the window of a bakery. I stop dead in my tracks when I see what’s in the window; only my favorite fucking cake on planet Earth. I pull her along with me as I go in the door.

  “Hi there! Welcome to V’s Sweets. How can I help you today?”

  “Can I get that German Chocolate cake, sweetheart?” I ask, then look back to Katya. “What’s your favorite dessert?”

  “Ptichye Moloko,” she responds automatically, and I don’t have a fucking clue what she just said. “I do not think you will find it here in the States. I will make you one, someday.”

  I look back to the girl working in the shop. “Can we get the German chocolate and that carrot cake I see back there?”

  “Sure thing! Let me box that up for you both. Did you want any hot chocolate or milk to take with you?”

  “Yeah, two milks would be great.”

  We wait as the girl boxes up the cakes and grabs two pints of milk. I pay for the order at the register and then Katya and I walk back to the hotel, which was only a block away. This night may have been far from any one person’s normal spectrum, but it felt as close to normal as I will ever get.

  We’re already back in the room, and I’m unboxing the cakes when she starts to speak.

  “Are you going to tell me what a carrot cake is?” she asks, eyebrows furrowing together like she’s never heard of it before.

  “C’mon, you can’t tell me that your lovely ass hasn’t had a bite of carrot cake.”

  “I don’t think I have. Other cakes, yes. But not a carrot one.”

  “B
aby, you’re going to love it. Trust me.”

  “I do. I would be silly not to trust you,” she murmurs softly. I almost don’t catch her saying it, but once it registers I slide my hand around the small of her back and pull her close against me. She has no fucking clue how much that means to me. For this woman, a woman who is guarded beyond any belief… to say she trusts me. It is nothing but an honor.

  I put the palm of my hand over her neck and squeeze gently, the gasp that escapes her lips encourages me to move on. I take my hand from closing around her neck, touching the top of the metal zipper that starts at her collar and work my way slowly down. Her body is on display to me inch after inch, revealing more as I bring it down further. Her dress drapes over her arms, and I take in her body, staring at the tattoos that cover her skin. She may even have as many as I do.

  Her perky tits are on display for me, begging for my attention. I just don’t want to act yet. I want to stare at the beautiful masterpiece that I am lucky enough to call mine – not in a sense of ownership, not in way that makes her my object. I am hers as she is mine. We stand side by side, neither of us above or below one another.

  She stands before me, naked in her heels, chest rising and falling slowly, eyes glued to my own. “Mirror,” I tell her, wanting her since I first came through the hotel room to find her applying her makeup.

  Katya walks to the side of the room where the vanity lies, her heels not making a sound on the plush carpet below our feet. She turns around to face me. I flip her around quickly, forcing her body against the stone counter, wrapping my hand around her neck so she’s forced to look at herself.

  “I’ve wanted to fuck you in front of this mirror from the moment I walked through the door,” I tell her, growling in her ear, squeezing her throat just a little harder, which causes her to whimper. The sounds that pass through her lips could make me fall to my fuckin’ knees.

  I slide my hand between her folds, feeling how wet she is just for me. She rolls her hips back, pushing herself further against my hand, eager for my touch.