Knox Brotherhood

by Knox, Elizabeth

  I turn off the water and sigh. I can’t avoid going back out there forever, and I have scrubbed my hands raw to get all the blood off, but honestly, I keep looking down at them like it’s still there. It feels like it is still there. I will probably feel that way for a long time.

  I make my way back out to the seats, taking the same one I had when I got onto the plane. I insisted on sitting in the aisle across from Anton because I did not wish to be next to him. I still don’t. It’s too close and too dangerous right now. I sit in my seat and look down at my hands in disgust. I still feel like I am somehow responsible for this. Like I should have known something was off.

  I am so angry at his betrayal. That’s what it is. I have been trying to think of the words for it, but now I have it. He has betrayed me, my trust, my body.

  “Natasha?” His voice is calmer and different than the man that stood over my uncle with a gun to his head. I didn't like it at all.

  “Why are you trying to talk to me?” I snap at him. “I never agreed to talk to you.”

  “Natasha,” he says more harshly, no question this time, no inflection in his tone. “You act so innocent here, but you didn't exactly tell me who you were either,” he says, and I try to ignore him, ignore the way he is turning any of this on me. The thing is, I may have a last name that means power, and my uncle may have been the leader of a Clan, but I have never been directly involved in it. It is not something I feel the need to advertise.

  “You don’t normally start a relationship by saying, yeah, by the way I am related to a Clan leader of the Romanian Mob,” I seethe. It's ridiculous really. I look at him and cross my arms, waiting for a reaction. At first, there is none. He just looks at me, watches me. He wants to see what I will do and say next. Is he waiting for me to fly off the handle so that he has an excuse to tie me up and make me submit? Or is he thinking I am just going to change my mind and suddenly jump his bones? What a fucking asshole.

  “And I don’t make it known to just anyone that I am the leader of Clan Balan for the Romanian Mob, surely you of all people can understand that? I would have had to reveal it eventually, but this was new, and I had no idea you had a right to know, that you were a part of this.”

  I scoff at the answer that he finally gives. There is nothing to understand, that I could understand. I am too furious for this conversation. He is the reason my uncle is dead. That's all I see.

  “The reason your uncle is dead is because he tried to have Mariana executed, for the last time, Natasha. This is a serious matter, a crime, and that type of betrayal will never be tolerated,” Anton attempts to explain away after he apparently read my mind. This is fucking infuriating even being in the same space with this man and remembering the blood all around my uncle, blood that he ordered to pour out of him.

  “You would certainly know about betrayal, wouldn’t you,” I snap at him. I didn't wait for any more response, because I can’t take any more of this. Not from him or anywhere else. I am emotionally exhausted. I recline my seat back as far as I comfortably can, so I don't have to see his face and take the liberty of turning towards the window. I don’t see much out of it right now, but it’s better than what awaits me from the other direction.

  My thoughts bombard me. There is no rest for me. There is no rest for the wicked. Is that what I have become? How did my relationship with Anton turn into something like this? How is this all even possible? I was going to be happy. I was happy. I had finally moved on from the shit show I was staring in before him. And yet again, my life fucked it all up; the joke of the fucking universe. I must have some kind of sign on me, a big one, that says ‘send all mobsters, dealers, and cartel members my way’. I can’t even blame it on my last name this time, because he didn't even know who I was. I saw the shock on his face plain as day when I walked through Jan's door. It was like he'd seen a ghost until he was told who I was. Then, I turned into some kind of trophy. I don't know why I hadn’t been more worried about something like this when I was younger. I was never so dumb and naive not to understand what my father was dealing in, what kind of enemies and even friends he had been making his whole adult life. But, maybe that’s naivety, thinking it wouldn’t ever affect me because he kept me at an arm’s length.

  I don’t know how long it is before we land. My mind finally goes blank, but there is no sleep, not yet. Not in this dress, not on this plane, not when I don't know where or how I am going to be when we land.

  Then, I end up in another car just like the others, sleek and black, tinted windows so no one can see who is in here, who is basically holding me hostage.

  We pull up to a home, the kind of home that does not feel like a home. It is a huge, towering high rise that is right on the beach. Not that I never appreciated its luxuries, but when I think of the word of home, I think of cozy. There is nothing about this place that says that, though I hope the thread count at least makes up for it because I am fucking exhausted.

  Anton comes around and opens the door of the car for me as if he is the picture of the perfect gentleman. What a joke.

  I get out of the car and his hand is instantly on me, lightly against my lower back as a reminder that I belong to him, I am his. It’s what I agreed to, right? So, why does it make me feel so violated even though he used to touch me in ways much more intimate than this?

  We walk inside, coming out of the elevator, and there is silence that greets me in this large, decadent house. It is a second and third floor in a high rise, and it is gorgeous, but a bit luxurious, even for me. He begins to show me around, and I take note of a few things, where the bathrooms all are, the kitchen and the way it is stocked full of everything I could ever need or want, the chandelier that hangs high above the entryway. Then, it’s the bedroom he leads me to, the master bedroom to be precise. I can tell by the way it looks more like a hotel suite, though devoid of a woman's touch for sure. There is a large walk-in closet and an ensuite that puts what my uncle had in his home to shame. I don't like the way he has brought me in here and what it might mean. What if he demands that we share this room…this bed?

  I turn to him immediately, keeping my cool as I tell him it’s not happening. “I am not sleeping with you, Anton,” I begin. I am not beating around the bush here. I just can't. “I need… time to figure this all out.” That part was utter bullshit, but I have to play a part to save my life. I know that. If this man is anything like my father or men I have known before, he can turn on me at any time.

  He puts his hand on my back again, but this time he leads me across the hall into another bedroom, and relief washes over me in waves. I think I might have won this one tiny battle against Anton. “You can sleep in this one,” he says. He states no other rules or conditions. Not that it means he won't change his mind the next day, but for now, it’s a reprieve. “I called ahead and had some clothes put in here for you. It’s not much. I will have to take you shopping some other time or send for your things from Seattle. Goodnight.”

  Anton lets go of me and leaves me alone in the room. It is dark, and I search for the switch on the wall with my hand, so I can see. I shut the door as well. I want a warning if he decides to come in here, and I don't feel comfortable changing where he can just walk out of his room and see me. It's bad enough I have to give in and use the clothes he had bought for me by one of his goons or someone else he controls with fear and money, but I have to get out of this damn dress.

  I go into the closet, smaller than the one in the master bedroom, but that's not saying much. It could still be a small room of its own. I find what he says, a small collection of clothes and opt for a pair of jeans and a cami, the most acceptable comfortable thing I see.

  I fall into bed, hoping that sleep will come as a mercy for me after all I have faced in the last few hours. Instead, I begin to cry against my will, and I hope he can’t hear me through the walls. I cry harder than I have ever cried in my life. My body is quaking with sobs.

  Thoughts of my uncle come back to me, the way he was bef
ore all of this mess. Jan saved me from an abusive relationship and gave me the means I needed to start my life over. He let me begin my life dream, which was now sitting in Seattle without me. My uncle showed me how to regain my confidence, my faith in my own abilities. He was a father to me, like one I never had since my own father never treated me with such respect and compassion. It is because of him that if I ever do have children, I will know how to raise and care for them. He is my example on what not to do.

  This is when it hits me, my life playing before my eyes like a movie as if these are my last moments on Earth. The reason I am crying and such a mess over all of this isn't just about my dead uncle, not at all. I feel like this because I am falling for Anton, or at least I was. If I didn't feel that way about him, it wouldn't feel like a Mack truck hit me when he hurt me in the most unimaginable way.

  CHAPTER 7

  The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.

  - Mahatma Ghandi

  Anton

  I look outside, through the large window that covers the back of the meeting room I am in, as I wait for all the other Clan leaders to leave. I have an important meeting with the king himself; Ion Petron. Well, also his queen, Mariana, since she went everywhere with him these days. She was a spitfire and technically the one with rights to lead the Clans, except for the fact that she is a woman, and this antiquated system means she doesn't actually get to take over. So, enter Ion.

  I can’t say that I am looking forward to this meeting. Not only am I going to have to tell Ion that I did not get a clear confession or information out of Jan Constantine, but I also have a lot on my mind regarding Jan’s niece, my beloved Natasha. I left her back in Florida under the protection of my men. I will be honest when I say it is more for me than her that they are watching. I don't want her to escape, especially before we have had a chance to work things out. Our relationship is strained, to say the least. Truly, it is barely there at all. I know I fucked up, but there are so many things at play here. I can’t just pretend like none of this happened and that I don’t need her by my side for more reasons than one.

  The room clears out, and the shades are quickly drawn so that I can no longer see the beautiful skyline of New York. I love Miami on principal, even Seattle is beautiful, but there is no other city in the world that looks like New York from high up. That part just cannot be beat.

  I sit down in a chair much closer to Mariana and Ion, feeling the pressure as their eyes turn on me. If I am scared of any woman on Earth, it is this one. Her power scares me, and even more, her lack of care that all the men around her do not want to take her seriously. She makes them take her seriously, even Ion. I can see it. It is a potential I see in Natasha as well.

  Ion sits there with his chin on his hand, leaning back in his chair. He looks comfortable, but I know better. This is intimidation. I would be scared shitless if we weren’t pretty close before all this went down with Mariana.

  “I want an update on Jan Constantine and his Clan, Anton. I want to know what you have found out about the attempt on my wife's life,” he says calmly, bearing into me with his gaze.

  “You are not going to like what I have to say,” I preface. There needs to be a warning label to make sure my head stays attached to my body. “Jan was not exactly cooperative, Ion. He told me nothing, even when we tried to beat it out of him and held a gun to his head. I had to take him out. At least he has paid for his crime,” I say, hoping that means something to the two of them. Mariana bows her head, her compassion showing. I am pretty sure when the Clans were warring over her she went on a few dates with the man. It seems Jan inspired love out of a few women, whether he deserved it or not.

  “What does that do to the Clan?” Ion asks, and I know what he means.

  “It leaves it under new leadership. Specifically, it is currently under no leadership,” I answer.

  “So, you killed a Clan leader and left it without leadership just because he didn't confess?” Ion hisses out. This is when my fear comes in, making me sweat. I had to make a decision in the moment, and I thought that was the best one. Now that I am in front of the man who actually gets to make that decision, I am feeling a little unsure of my actions. Jan's death could bring all kinds of consequences down on me, even though I was not the one who ended his life. “We needed to know all of the information before you acted. There is a possibility that we did not find the right person here. It is a complete possibility Jan was not the right man, especially since he didn't speak when pressured. You are going to regret this, if and when we find the person responsible,” Ion barks.

  “Anton, you shouldn't have,” is all Mariana says in that melodic voice of hers, her blonde hair a veil right now.

  The king and queen are not happy, not pleased one bit. “Who is the next of kin? Is there one?” Ion asked with an exasperated sigh. He wants to make this an open and closed situation for me, but it isn't that simple, through every fault of my own of course.

  “Jan has a niece, but no direct descendants. She is in her 20s’ and in my possession,” I confess. There is no hiding this from him, and I know he has no want or need for her with Mariana by his side. Mariana is worth much more to him than an indirect Constantine.

  “I guess that is something, but Clan Constantine will need to have someone appointed until the next of kin has sons that become of age to take over.”

  Mariana’s head shoots up, and like that she is back in the conversation. I think I know what is coming next because we have all heard it out of her mouth before now. “This is so ridiculous and sexist that you still do not allow women to be Clan leads,” she spits out with venom. She is not someone I want to be on the bad side of, but I don't exactly have the power to change this mandate at all. “It is time to make a change. We need to. Let’s be honest, things like this could keep happening.”

  Ion shakes his head at his wife, letting her know that he is not going to give any weight to her comments. I bet that he feels for her, that she is in his ear about to every day, but he knows just what I know; that it’s impossible. “So many of the Clan leaders are older, you should know that from having to look through them to date.” He spears her with a look, and this suddenly feels private. “They are traditional, Mariana. They will never vote to pass something like that even if we tried.”

  Mariana sighs angrily, her face turning sour as she looks between the two of us. It sends a chill down my spine, and suddenly, her father is in my head, the thought of that ruthless man chilling me to my core. He was quite a leader. We are still feeling his loss.

  Ion looks at me again, his focus shifting back to the task at hand. “You will have to take over Clan Constantine in addition to Clan Balan. You can see it as a sort of punishment for acting so irrationally when it came to Jan. I know many men might find this a happy time to be running two Clans, being given more power, but it is hard work, especially getting men who don't believe in you to answer to you.” I chuckle darkly, knowing that if anyone had experience with that matter, it is Ion.

  “Now, tell me about Natasha, the one who is the sole living heir to Clan Constantine. What do you know, and what does she know?” I know what Ion is actually asking me. He needs to know if she could have been involved with this at all. Luckily for the both of us, I can tell she hasn’t touched any of this with a ten-foot pole.

  “She was closer to Jan, possibly living with him, or growing up with him considering she just walked in the door uninvited when we were in the middle of torturing him,” I say. “She was very confused and devastated with the whole thing when she saw us. She doesn't know anything about the clan or even about what Jan does. She thought he was innocent, until I mentioned that we had possible proof. So, she had no part in this whatsoever, just an innocent woman mixed up in the wrong family and in the wrong place at the wrong time,” I explain.

  “Then, why in the world are you keeping her as your own personal prize? Why would you not just let the girl go? I doubt she is going to talk if
she saw what happened and believes there is a chance that Jan has committed the crime. I would have let her go,” he emphasizes, turning everything back on me. I will give him this; from an outside perspective, he is right. There is no reason to take her into our custody now, and it could have been to our advantage to let her live out her life. We would have come to her when she had sons who were older to make sure they were a proper part of the Clans. That's it.

  I have to tell Ion the truth, even if I kind of hate myself for it. “We were actually dating before this all happened. I had no idea who she was, or her me for that matter. It was the most ridiculous case of happenstance I have ever experienced,” I spit out, annoyed at hearing it from my own lips. Just my fucking luck. “I don’t want to lose her because of the call I had to make for the Clans, for the Clans’ safety. She doesn’t get it, and I have to make her understand. I just couldn't walk out of that house and possibly let her go forever.” I would never admit this to other men, but Ion is my friend, not just the king of the Clans. I can tell him almost anything, and he will give it to me straight.

  “How is she holding up?” Ion asked, true concern in his voice. Ion is a good man, even if he has to hide that part of him away to bring down the hammer most times. I believe it is only myself and Mariana that truly know of his character.

  “It’s not very good,” I say honestly. “She sleeps in a room across the hall and avoids speaking with me most of the time. She looks at me like I am something evil, and I don't know how to change it.” I shrug. I am not sure if there is anything other than time to fix these things, or at least to give me a shot to.

  “Then, why have you had your men spread the rumor around that she is your prize and before you try to weasel your way out of this. I have already heard.” Ion tells me, and I flinch. I actually hate that I have to do that. “Wait,” he says before I can respond. “You don’t want her to know she can leave.” He has guessed exactly what I am playing at, but I hope Natasha doesn’t catch on so quickly. She is a smart woman, though.