Kingpin's Foxglove (The Tarkhanov Empire Book 1)

by Bree Porter

  She picked herself up quickly, rubbing her forehead. “God, your head is hard, Elena. I think I dented my skull.”

  I bit back a smile. “Your skull is fine.”

  Danika rubbed it a few more times for good measure, before eyeing me critically. “You’re really red. Are you okay?”

  “Fine.”

  Her eyes darted behind me, noting the hallway I was coming from. Realization took a hold of her face. “Ohhh.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Danika feigned innocence. “Nothing.”

  “I don’t butt into your relationship with Roman; I would like the same consideration.”

  Her expression froze. “You can be a bit of a bitch sometimes, Elena.”

  I could. It was unfair to be cruel to Danika, after all that she had been very welcoming to me. But I wasn’t stupid; Danika wasn’t kind to me out of the goodness of her heart.

  She shrugged. “But can’t we all? I’m going to go and see Rifat Denisyuk. Do you want to come?”

  “Rifat Denisyuk?”

  “Konstantin’s bookkeeper. Derzhatel obschaka.” At my doubtful expression, Danika insisted, “He’s very eccentric. He lives in the old gardening shed on the edge of the estate.”

  That caught my attention. Going outside was the remedy I needed to cure my flushed cheeks and racing heart. “Lead the way.”

  Rifat Denisyuk lived in a rundown shed among the overgrown trees and shrubs. The manor could still be seen over the tops of the trees, but it was isolated out here, quiet.

  I breathed easier.

  Until a voice rang out, “WHO GOES THERE!”

  “It’s me, Rifat,” called Danika. “And I brought Elena Falcone with me.”

  The chipped front door rattled, and an old man poked his head out, his long gray beard the first thing I focused on. It dripped to the ground, catching dirt and leaves. “Danika Baltacha…and Elena Falcone. Ladies of the manor.” He disappeared back inside and the sound of locks clicking sounded throughout the woods.

  Danika seemed unconcerned as she neared.

  The door swung open, nearly flinging off its hinges, and a short old wrinkly man stood in the doorway. He reminded me of an elusive wizard from a fairy tale, but instead of creating spells and fighting off dragons, this wizard kept the books of a Pakhan.

  “I told Tyoma I was not to be disturbed,” Rifat grumbled.

  It took me a second to understand Tyoma was a nickname for Artyom.

  “I’m just here to check on you,” Danika cooed, the sweetness of her tone making her words very easy to believe. “And I bought Elena to meet you.”

  Rifat took me in, craning his head back. “You’re very tall.”

  “You’re very short,” I replied.

  A laugh rattled in his chest and he stepped aside. “Come in, then. Before you catch yourselves a cold.”

  Rifat’s shed was…manic. Piles of books and papers littered the space, the air so thick with dust you could barely see your hand out in front of you. There was also the distinct but foul smell of something that had gone off.

  Danika scrunched up her nose.

  “A rat has died somewhere in here,” Rifat answered before we could ask. “And I can’t seem to find him…”

  “He most likely died from contamination,” I muttered.

  Danika lifted up a piece of paper and Rifat barked out a warning. “Don’t touch anything! Everything is exactly where it is supposed to be.”

  “How can you work in a place so messy?” Danika asked.

  “Not all of us can work anytime we please, Danika,” Rifat retorted. “Some of us need materials. Elena understands.”

  My eyebrows rose. “I do?”

  “Sure, you do. Isn’t it your job to cure Mrs Gribkov?” he asked. “You can’t very well do that with nothing but your charm, can you?”

  “I guess not.” I glanced at Danika. “You need a lot of charm in your job, do you?”

  Rifat snorted and muttered something, while Danika just laughed. There was a flicker of nervousness behind her eyes, but it disappeared so quickly I could have imagined it.

  Danika gestured to Rifat. “Elena and I won’t keep you from your work. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

  “Fine,” he huffed. “I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself.”

  I glanced around the room, past the half-eaten meals and moldy corners. “Clearly not,” I remarked.

  “Clearly not,” Rifat mocked. Then he glanced at me, lips thinning. “No offense, Mrs Falcone.”

  “I’m not offended.”

  “It’s not you I’m worried about,” he mumbled.

  Danika interrupted before I could ask what he meant. “You should come by the house for breakfast soon. We worry about you out here all by yourself.”

  “I’ll consider it,” he said, but looked secretly pleased that he was wanted. “But only if Dmitri bakes those pastries again.”

  Dmitri baked pastries? I couldn’t fathom that human-shaped icicle doing anything so domestic.

  “I’ll pass the order along,” Danika confirmed. “Can I get you anything while I’m here? Tea, dinner…?”

  “Garbage bag?” I added.

  She threw me a smile.

  Rifat pointed a knobbly finger my way. He opened his mouth, gearing up to retort, before his expression suddenly closed.

  “Take your silver-tongue friend away before I get myself into trouble,” he told Danika.

  Danika wasted no time, grabbing my arm and pulling me back outside. The breeze had picked up, chilly air fluttering over my skin and through my hair.

  “I knew he would like you,” was the first thing Danika said.

  I laughed. “That was Rifat liking somebody?”

  “Very much so,” she said. “He might even let you dig into his brain if he likes you enough. He might not seem like it, but he is very intelligent. He might even be able to help you with Tatiana’s illness—or you could help him.”

  “Maybe,” I agreed.

  Danika affectionately patted my arm. “You’re settling in okay, right?”

  “This is not summer camp, Danika.”

  “I know that. But...I remember what it was like being new and having to try and find my place within the family.”

  My spine straightened. “My place here doesn’t matter,” I reminded her. “I’m leaving as soon as Tatiana is healthy again.”

  “Of course, you are,” Danika did not sound convinced in the slightest. “How about everything else? I couldn’t imagine losing my husband and then having to deal with Roman on a daily basis.”

  I scanned her expression. “It hasn’t been easy.”

  “I bet if you didn’t know what the matter with Tatiana was, Kostya still would set you free.” Her brown eyes lit on me. “But you would have to offer him something really good, you know? Something he doesn’t already have.”

  “Is that so?”

  She nodded. “Yes. But Kostya already has everything...”

  “Except that key he so desperately wants.”

  Danika turned her head to me, the brightness in her expression dimming slightly.

  “I know you’re trying to squeeze me for information,” I told her. “I don’t mind, but don’t lie to me.”

  “Sometimes lying is the only defense we have left,” was all she said. “You know something about that, I imagine.”

  She was right. Which was why I said, “I don’t know where the key is. Don’t waste your energy with me.”

  Danika smiled. “I don’t mind but don’t lie to me,” she repeated my earlier words.

  I found myself returning her smile.

  “I’ll tell Kostya you’re unbreakable,” she mused. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear it—”

  One second Danika was there, the next she wasn’t. With a crash, she tripped and hit the ground, her ankle having gotten caught in a rogue root.

  I didn’t offer her help; Danika got up by herself.

  “Are yo
u okay?” I asked because it seemed polite to.

  Danika brushed the dirt off her palms and laughed, the sound brighter than the sun shining in the sky. “It’s not a day unless I take a spill.” She rose to her feet, shaking it off. “What was I saying?”

  “You were going to tell Konstantin I’m unbreakable,” I said with the same amount of conviction I had in the statement.

  She laughed, “Oh, yes.”

  “Will that stop you from trying to steal my secrets from me?” I asked.

  Danika’s eyes sparkled. “Of course not. They don’t call me the Little Interrogator because I’m so quick to give up.”

  We reached the manor’s gardens, house and responsibilities in sight.

  “You’re welcome to them,” I told her. “I don’t want them anymore.”

  10

  Elena Falcone

  The echoing sound of choking resonated through my brain.

  Before me, my father crouched on the ground, hand up to his heart. His knuckles still bruised from his latest attack. He was gasping something.

  Heart attack, I though he was trying to say, I’m having a heart attack.

  Mother was yelling to get help, her cries loud and shrill.

  Father couldn’t breathe; he was struggling for air. His body was doing everything it could to keep him alive, to keep him surviving.

  From his lips, vines began to spill. Bright purple and pink flowers sprouted from the stems, lighting up the dim dining room. The colors were seductive and alluring, a bright poisonous warning to all those who dared to near.

  Out his ears, out his eyes. Father began to stretch and warp, the flowers overtaking his flesh and bones, killing him slowly.

  Mother was still screaming.

  I reached out, unable to resist the pull, and grasped one—

  Consciousness came to me like a slap in the face.

  I sat up in my bed, breathing hard. It took me a second to grasp where I was.

  Konstantin’s estate, I told myself.

  My legs were twisted in the sheets, my hair knotted from rolling over my pillows. A thin layer of sweat soaked me.

  I rubbed my face, breathing hard.

  It was just a bad dream, I told myself, ignoring the memories that threatened my every waking moment. It’s over now.

  When I turned to check the time, I groaned out loud.

  Four a.m.

  Not as bad as it could’ve been, but after being able to sleep in until around six the past two days, waking up this early felt like a kick in the face.

  I collapsed back onto the pillow, but it was too late. My brain had come to life, moving a thousand miles an hour. Words and theories bombarded me. Check Tatiana for thallium poisoning, sort out library, avoid Konstantin and his bedroom eyes—

  I felt like I was going to tear out of my skin, my bones and flesh inconveniences and obstacles to me relaxing.

  Restlessness was not a new emotion to me, but usually I had a remedy.

  I turned my head towards the window. No light peeked through; no sounds echoed. But my heart pulsed a little faster at the thought of feeling the fresh air on my skin, digging my toes in the dirt. Being alone, being relaxed.

  What if I got caught?

  You’re not doing anything wrong, I told myself. The dogs know who you are, so do the guards.

  There was something inherently vulnerable at being caught trying to relax but my reasoning had won out.

  I slipped out of bed, wrapping the blanket around me, and headed downstairs. The house was quiet and still, the only sounds coming from the theater room.

  I peeked through the door as I passed.

  Dmitri and Anton were watching cartoons; well, Anton was watching them. Perched on his father’s lap, he was very interested in the bright colorful characters on the screen. His father had his head tipped back and was snoring softly.

  I kept moving, leaving Anton to his show.

  The back door was locked but the key was on a hook behind the curtain. Konstantin had made a point to show it to me when he had given me a tour.

  As soon as I stepped outside, I calmed.

  The crisp air running along my exposed skin and flushed cheeks brought my heart rate down within seconds. Mixed with the lack of stimulants and soft lull of the breeze rustling through the trees, I almost fell asleep on the spot.

  I made my way farther into the overgrown garden, leaping over exposed roots and unkempt branches. Fall signaled the reddening of leaves, causing some plants to look like a collection of flames and jewels.

  I found a quiet spot, manor still in sight, but otherwise hidden from all. With a deep sigh, I lay down on the ground, ignoring the threat of dirtying the blanket.

  My thoughts and breathing slowed, allowing me to sort through them.

  Tatiana had received the tonic I’d made her really well. Well enough that I was certain she was exaggerating a little, pushing herself to make it seem she was better than she was. Her frustration at not being able to play with her son or be with her husband must’ve been tough.

  It wasn’t a cure—I still had no idea what was wrong with her, what poison she had injected or snorted or absorbed. Instead it was more like an antihistamine on steroids. It slowed down the movement of the poison, how fast her body absorbed it.

  Tatiana being pregnant had reduced the ingredients I could use.

  On top of Tatiana, there was also Konstantin.

  He’s just playing with you, Elena, I told myself. You’re the new, shiny mouse and he’s the bored cat.

  I was right. Konstantin had no interest in me outside of what I could offer Tatiana, of what I could offer him. He had killed my husband in front of me and wanted the Falcone’s key. I was nothing but a means to an end, an unexpected source of secrets.

  But my body’s reaction...

  I rubbed my face, feeling my muscles tense once again.

  My body was overreacting, betraying me in the worst way imaginable. Never before had my cheeks flushed, my heart raced, my mouth watered—

  It’s fear, I tried to reason. You’re scared of him. Nothing more.

  Even my inner consciousness sounded doubtful.

  Willing myself to think about something else, my thoughts somehow ended up on the dead women.

  Annabella Benéitez was a child and had been a casualty in the world of the mafia. It made me oddly angry, even if I was certain justice would be served. Children were off limits, and whoever was doing this needed to watch their fucking back.

  Letizia Zetticci, Eithne McDermott, Mallory Nicollier and now Annabella Benéitez.

  All killed differently but all had their teeth removed after their deaths.

  I had enough on my plate, but the mystery had my attention. Who would have been able to get to all these different places and near all these women within the same few months? All four of the women would’ve had guards, people protecting them. They wouldn’t have let just anyone get close to them.

  Maybe it was domestic issues made to look like an outsider, I thought. But on four separate occasions?

  And a child?

  And if that was so, then why had Eleazar Benéitez reacted the way he had?

  I wasn’t going to worry about that. Justice would be served and I had other things to concern myself with. I had a pregnant woman to cure or risk being sent back into the embrace of my family.

  I must have fallen asleep because the warm rays of the sun peeking over the top of the trees caused me to open my eyes.

  My stomach gurgled, warning me that it was almost breakfast time. I cringed at the thought of being stuck in the same room as Konstantin and his family.

  Their familiarity with each other made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. All the nicknames and inside jokes, the efforts they made to accommodate each other.

  Most breakfasts I sat in silence between Roksana and Danika, only speaking to ask for something or jab at Roman.

  I twisted my head to the side, making out the manor’s roof over the top of t
he bushes.

  Everyone would be waking up now, preparing for their day.

  To my right, a branch snapped, and I turned my head. One of the dogs had seen me and come to investigate, their huge snout sniffing the ground around me.

  I leaned on my elbow, reaching out my palm. The dog licked it before disappearing back into the underbrush.

  The dog had the right idea.

  I abandoned my blanket, not bothered by the early morning chill any longer, despite being dressed in my pajamas.

  Over the past few days, I had gotten a better lay of the land. I could navigate around the estate easily now, from the front gate to Rifat’s little cottage. If you paid attention, you could spot the worn unofficial paths through the trees and plants.

  I ran my hands along the tree trunks as I delved deeper into the wood. A few of the dogs poked their heads out of bushes to check me out before going back to their jobs.

  Birds chirped in the distance, leaves rustled in the breeze. Beneath my feet, dirt and twigs crunched softly. Every now and then I heard one of the dogs, but mostly it was quiet.

  I had every intention of turning back around, then I came to the fence around the edge of the property. Strange, I thought but couldn’t bear to turn around. There’s a gate but no fence.

  The thought made me laugh to myself.

  The sun had risen higher, pinkening the sky. Clouds had begun to form, their gray color telling me how the weather was going to be for the day.

  I didn’t mind rain, I only hoped I didn’t get caught in it.

  In between the trees, I could make out open space, indicating the end of the woods. I hurried, intrigued by the idea of finding the edge of the property. Would the fence be climbable?

  Knowing Konstantin, probably not. There was probably a flock of fierce cats that stopped you from climbing over it–and electric wire.

  The path between the trees opened up and…

  Rolling green paddocks greeted me. White fences outlined the area, all leading back to a luxurious looking stable. Next to the stable was an indoor factory-type building, with an arena stationed next to it. Must be the indoor arena, I thought, impressed.

  In the paddock closest to me, a gray horse with white patches over its rump grazed. When I stepped closer to the fence, the horse lifted its head and instantly came to check me out.