The Choice

by Stella Gray

  “Of course,” I said, knowing I spoke for both myself and Stefan. “We’ll set up the meeting with my father and be with you every step of the way. We’re happy to do it.”

  “That’s what family is for,” Stefan added.

  Stefan

  Chapter 21

  After dinner, Tori and Max returned to putting together the huge Lego set that Tori had gotten while Anja and I remained in the kitchen, cleaning up. I could tell that she was putting on a brave face, but it was obvious that her concerns about the future weighed heavily on her mind.

  “Everything’s going to be okay,” I assured her, wiping pizza grease off the counter. “Regardless of what the senator says, Tori and I have your back. We’ll figure it all out.”

  My ex nodded, but I could see that her eyes were filling with tears. She swiped them away as she turned to load the plates from dinner into the dishwasher.

  “What is it?” I asked, worried that there might be something else she hadn’t told us yet.

  Anja was silent for a long time before she looked over at me, her eyes red.

  “You’ve been so good to me, Stefan,” she said. “Tori, too. I don’t deserve it.”

  “It’s water under the bridge,” I said, gesturing for her to sit back down. “Sure, I wish things had happened differently, but I believe that you did what you thought was best—I can’t imagine it’s been easy for you all these years, being a single mom and trying to stay in hiding.”

  I went over to the cupboard where Tori kept the tea kettle and filled it with water, then set it on a burner to heat. My wife often liked having a cup of soothing chamomile tea before bed, and maybe it would help Anja unwind as well. One more thing they could bond over.

  Anja shook her head. “This isn’t about how I ran away when I found out I was pregnant with Max, though I am sorry for the way it all went down.” She took a deep breath. “The truth is, I didn’t come here intending to tear you and your wife apart. I was misled.”

  “By my father?” I guessed, knowing full well that he had orchestrated both Anja’s original disappearance and this recent return with Max. “What did he tell you?”

  “He said that your marriage was on the rocks,” she admitted, looking ashamed. “I was told it had been arranged for political reasons, but that you were both unhappy.”

  “Half of that is true,” I said. “But my wife and I are very happy together.”

  Anja smiled sadly. “He told me that Tori was on her way out anyway…but it was a delicate situation and you’d need a really compelling reason to divorce. He was sure Max and I could be that reason.”

  The tea kettle screamed, and I wanted to scream along with it. Anja jumped up and took it off the stove, and it was my turn to sink into a chair as she rifled through Tori’s tea selection.

  “My father really is some kind of evil genius,” I mused, my jaw clenching in anger.

  Anja laughed. “I guess I can’t disagree with that. Maybe ‘supervillain’ is more accurate?”

  “He does have all that money,” I conceded. “And all those charcoal turtlenecks.”

  All jokes aside, I felt sick realizing my father had stooped so low yet again. I knew he’d wanted to get rid of Tori because she was defiant and headstrong and hated KZM’s trafficking business—and therefore would always be a potential threat to it—but now I knew exactly how he’d managed to convince Anja to come back to Chicago with Max. By pretending that the two of them had a new life waiting for them here, with me. How fucking cruel.

  Anja sat next to me, the scent of lemon wafting from her steaming mug.

  “What else did he tell you?” I asked.

  She frowned, thinking back. “He said…just that if I came back, we’d all have a chance to be a family together. That I owed it to Max to finally meet his dad. Give him all the opportunities I never had. I mean, your father was generous with us, but our life wasn’t…like this.”

  Looking around the kitchen, decked out with its gleaming marble countertops, high-tech appliances, stupidly luxurious fixtures and all kinds of bells and whistles I barely even used, I didn’t have to ask Anja what she meant. I had the wealth and resources at my fingertips to care for and spoil Max in ways Anja could currently only dream about. It was easy to understand why she’d bought into my father’s tempting lies so quickly. All she cared about was her son.

  “Tori and I are committed to helping you and Max in whatever way we can,” I said.

  “I know. And I can’t thank the both of you enough for that,” Anja said, pausing to sip carefully at her tea. “God, I can’t believe I fell for his lies all over again. I should have realized it sooner, considering the man he was when I worked for him. I don’t know why I ever trusted him to begin with.”

  “Don’t blame yourself,” I said. “You’re far from being the only person he’s taken advantage of. He’s a master manipulator. And you were barely sixteen when you arrived in the US—it wasn’t about being naïve; you had to take whatever opportunity came your way.”

  I could only imagine how hard it must have been for Anja. All alone in a foreign country, undocumented and impoverished, knowing she was the only hope that her family back in Romania had for financial survival.

  But she was shaking her head. “There was more to it than that, Stefan. When I met your father I was young, yes, but I knew what I was doing. Some of the girls—the other models—they were bullied into the sex work, threatened with deportation. But coming to the States, I’d already figured that without papers or an education and not much English, it was pretty likely that the only work I’d get would be hooking. So when Konstantin said he’d help me get modeling jobs too, it seemed like a dream come true.”

  She was smiling bitterly, and my heart ached for the younger Anja who had been through so much, and who’d had to learn to be so strong.

  “I’m so sorry,” was all I could say. “You deserved better.”

  No matter how many countless times I’d heard some version of this story before, from other KZ models, it never got any easier listening to these survivors tell their tales of my father’s evil. I also knew from experience that it was cathartic for the women to speak, so instead of filling in the rest of the story for Anja, I simply waited for her to get it out.

  She took a long drink of her tea, and when she lowered the cup I saw fresh tears streaking down her face. I reached for a few napkins and passed them her way.

  “As time went on,” she continued, “KZ expected me to spend more and more time on my back, and less on the runway. My life started to feel like a nightmare. Until I met you.”

  “We had a good run,” I told her. “No regrets.”

  We shared a smile, nostalgic for our younger selves. The selves that no longer existed.

  Anja went on, “I knew you loved me, and I loved you too. But I was convinced that I wasn’t good enough for you. That we could never truly be together. That’s why it was so easy to walk away when KZ gave me the offer—because I knew a woman like me wasn’t worthy of a man like you.”

  “You’re worthy,” I told her vehemently. “You were always worth more than you thought. I knew exactly what kind of work you did, and I never thought you were anything less than a queen. No man deserves you if he doesn’t think the same.”

  “Thanks,” Anja said quietly.

  I got up and took down Tori’s favorite mug, putting together a tea tray for her. Then I turned back to Anja, who was staring out the window at the cityscape and sniffling into a tissue.

  “Don’t ever let a scumbag like my father define who you are and what you’re worth,” I said. “I wish things had been different for you. But you got Max out of it, and…I hope it’s okay to say that I think he probably makes your whole life feel worthwhile.”

  “He really does,” Anja said with a smile.

  “I know I’ve said this before, but Tori and I will always be here to help you and Max, in whatever way you need. We care for both of you, and that’s not going to change. Even
if the relationship between you and me is on different terms now.”

  “I understand,” Anja said. “And I’m so grateful.”

  It was hard not to grieve for both of us. For the kids we had been and the people we had become. Still, I didn’t regret the way things had worked out—how could I when it had gotten me a life with Tori?

  “I should bring this tea to my wife,” I told Anja, picking up the tray.

  She followed me out of the kitchen and through the dining room, where we hung back and watched Tori and Max through the doorway for a minute, both of them deeply involved in constructing some kind of multi-towered castle in the middle of the living room floor.

  “She is very special,” Anja said quietly. “I’m glad my son will have a sister like her. Max deserves to grow up around people as smart and kind as he is.”

  “He does. So he’s lucky he has you for a mom,” I told her. “Make no mistake: he turned out the way he did because of how you raised him.”

  Her eyes grew teary again.

  “You’re a good man, Stefan,” she said. “Knowing who you were as a teenager and listening to you now, I can’t believe I ever worried you’d turn out like your father. He’s been grooming you all this time, but it’s obvious that you’ve been playing him.”

  “I don’t know if I’d say that,” I murmured, trying to keep my voice casual.

  I cleared my throat, hoping to avoid giving anything away. Anja always had been able to read me like an open book when we were face to face. But things could get dangerous fast if I admitted that I was in the process of working with the feds to dismantle KZM’s operations.

  “Well. Maybe I’m wrong.” Anja shrugged. “But if there’s ever anything I can do to help stop him—and keep him from hurting other women—just say the word.”

  “Will do,” I said. “But there’s nothing going on.”

  “Of course. But if there is…I promise not to say anything,” Anja added. “I can be very discreet.”

  “Sure,” I said, bustling into the living room with the tea.

  “Oooh, is that for me?” Tori squealed. “And are all those Oreos for Max?”

  “They’re to share,” Anja cut in, “but you two can decide who gets how many.”

  As the other three fought over the cookies, I ruminated on everything Anja and I had just discussed. Clearly she suspected I had plans to dismantle my father’s operation from the inside, but although I was grateful for her offer of help, I hoped I wouldn’t need it. Frank Chase had led me to believe that my father’s arrest was imminent. In the meantime, the wait was killing me.

  “Looks like Max is ready for bed,” Anja said, and I followed her gaze, watching as Max yawned, half a cookie in one fist. “I should probably get him home.”

  “Stefan’s driver can take you,” Tori offered.

  “Good idea,” I said, already pulling out my phone.

  Tori and I helped Anja gather up Max and his bags full of toys and get them in the car before we headed back upstairs together. Tori was practically glowing from the playdate she’d had with her brother, and though I was happy for her, I couldn’t help being distracted by all the information that Anja had given me tonight.

  While Tori showered—and I could hear her singing happily in the bathroom—I sat on the edge of the bed, undressing and thinking about what Anja had said. Although I wasn’t at all surprised to have confirmation that my father had attempted to split me and Tori apart, it didn’t stop me from being furious.

  Did he really believe that Tori was such a threat to his business that she needed to be removed from the equation? The irony was that he was right to worry—but the real threat was actually me.

  Even though the last thing I wanted to do was speak to my father, and it was probably a lost cause anyway, I decided to confront him about all of this soon. After all, there might be other reasons Anja was a key player in his schemes. It couldn’t hurt to try digging deeper.

  Undressed, I leaned back against the headboard, waiting for Tori to come out of the shower. My body tightened with the anticipation of being with her—holding her, kissing her, fucking her—I never tired of it. I didn’t think I ever would.

  And there was one good thing that had come out of Anja’s reappearance. For the first time since she had disappeared, I finally had closure to our relationship. No more wondering where she was, or whether she was safe or drugged up in some foreign brothel. She was one more model who no longer had to sell herself like that to please my father. To fill his pockets.

  I wouldn’t rest until all the other women working for KZM were free, too.

  Tori

  Chapter 22

  “Mitchell Lindsey’s office,” a brisk female voice said.

  I took a deep breath, my mouth suddenly bone dry despite the fact that I’d practiced for this conversation over and over again in my head.

  “This is Victoria Lindsey,” I said. “The senator’s daughter. May I speak with my father, please?”

  “He’s en route to the airport in DC at the moment,” she said politely, giving no indication of whether I’d been blacklisted from his contacts or not.

  So he was still out of town. “Flying into Springfield?” I asked. The flight usually took about three hours, so I figured I could try him again after my first class let out today.

  “Chicago, actually,” she said. “He’ll be at the office there for a few days before he heads home.”

  “Got it,” I said, my mood lifting instantly. His schedule couldn’t have been more convenient for me and Anja. “I’ll call him back this afternoon then. Thanks for your help.”

  “Actually, I can try to patch you through to his cell if you like?” she suggested.

  Guess I hadn’t made the blacklist after all. “That’d be great,” I told her.

  The line started to ring and I tapped my fingers on the kitchen counter in time with the quickening of my pulse, wondering if he’d even pick up or purposely leave me hanging so I’d be forced to choke out an awkward voicemail.

  I couldn’t help feeling anxious. We’d been estranged for nearly two months, and hadn’t spoken a word to each other since the day I’d found out he was involved in KZM’s trafficking coverup. This was the first time I’d be hearing his voice since then. And since the recent revelations of his infidelity. His lying. The way he’d treated his bed partners.

  I took another long drink of coffee to fortify myself, just about to hang up, when—

  “Tori? What is it?” he asked in his usual gruff way. “I’m about to get on a plane.”

  At first I froze, unable to form the words. My anger about Max and Anja made it hard not to start flinging accusations or demanding he take action to correct his past wrongs.

  “Tori?” my dad barked. “First class is boarding.”

  “I…need to talk to you,” I finally managed, my voice sounding extremely formal.

  “Obviously. Well, make it fast,” he demanded. “I assume you’ve finally come to your senses.”

  I narrowed my eyes. It was obvious he thought this was an apology call. How dare he speak to me this way, after all he’d done. But of course, he didn’t know what I knew. He thought I was still the same naïve, sweet, innocent daughter he’d always known. Calling to beg his forgiveness for my behavior on the day I’d told him he wasn’t my father anymore.

  He’d be wrong to think that. But it didn’t mean I couldn’t play into those assumptions.

  “Actually, I was hoping to speak with you in person,” I said in a gentle tone. “Your assistant said you’re on the way to Chicago, so maybe I can see you while you’re in town.”

  I felt bad about what this confrontation would do to my stepmother, but I hoped that she would understand and forgive me. Arranging this meeting was something I owed to Anja and to Max, but I was doing it for Michelle as well. She deserved to know who my father truly was.

  “What’s this all about?” he asked impatiently. “I have back-to-back meetings both days, and my fucking
doctor’s still telling me I need to be ‘resting.’ As if the country’s problems can wait just because I feel a little under the weather.”

  Even though I was furious at him, even though I knew he was a liar, I still felt a twinge of pity. My father was not good at facing anything that reminded him of his own mortality.

  “What about after work hours?” I asked. “Surely you can spare an evening for your only child? It’s important.”

  I was laying it on thick—and with the knowledge that by the end of our meeting, he would know that I wasn’t his only child anymore—Anja needed resolution, and the longer we postponed this confrontation, the more likely it would be that the news about Max would get to my father some other way. Or that Anja would back out, maybe flee and go into hiding again. I couldn’t risk that.

  Through the phone I could hear the boarding announcement repeating something about priority seating and families with children.

  “Please, Daddy?” I said, hating that I had to resort to little-girl speak but knowing he’d be powerless against it.

  He huffed. “Fine. Why don’t you come over to the condo after dinner tonight? I can spare maybe an hour. I gotta go.”

  “Thank you!” I crowed, feeling triumphant. “Fly safe. I’ll see you later.”

  We hung up.

  I had conveniently left out the part about bringing other people with me.

  After I got home from school that night, Stefan and I called our private car and picked up Anja, who was leaving Max with the same babysitter Gretna had recommended the night of our family dinner. Max had basked in the older woman’s grandmotherly doting on him, and didn’t even put up a fight at being left home with her and his pile of new toys, courtesy of me.

  Then, somber and tense, we drove over to my father’s condo, prepared to confront him with the consequences of his actions from all those years ago.

  Anja was twisting the hem of her sweater into knots, so I gently took one of her hands and squeezed it. She was shaking a little, and I didn’t blame her. I was so nervous that I could actually feel the thumping of my heart in my chest.