Retribution: Skulls Renegade MC Book #10

by Knox, Elizabeth

  “Good, it means you’re not a psychopath. I hope you never have to use it, but you will. We always do, sweetheart, and I know you will do whatever you have to do in order to protect our family, as will I.” I never thought of it like this until Enzo just said it. I never looked at it like this.

  No matter what I do, or where I am, there will always be some sort of threat. As he said, it’s inevitable. My family will never be safe, and maybe this is an awakening for me in a sense. Maybe, this is the point where I come to terms with the blood that runs through my veins. This is one of the moments that will lead me into accepting the fact that I am no longer a slave girl.

  In fact, I am so much more than that.

  I am Ksenia Petrov, heir to the Russian Bratva. I don’t want it to feel good as I think this in my head, but it feels amazing. I feel as if there is a fire under my feet, and that no one can ever harm me again. I feel like I am my own woman, and like no man will ever make me bend to his will again.

  I am my own woman.

  I am free.

  11

  You can’t rush something you want to last forever.

  -Unknown

  Enzo

  “Lorenzo! You are going to give your mother a heart attack!” My Ma says as she comes rushing over to me. It looks like she’s shrunk over the past couple of years. She’s a little shorter than five feet from the looks of it, and where her hair was previously black, it now has gray streaks that run through it. “You see these gray hairs? They are all from you.”

  I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into my embrace. I hate being one of those guys who admits his feelings, but I’ve missed her for quite some time. I haven’t been home in a while, and I feel terrible for that now. I was always busy with something or another with the club. For fucks sake, I didn’t even tell her about me getting shot. I sure as hell won’t do it now, not when I know I’ll get shot again for not saying a word to her. Italian mothers have one thing in common, they’re batshit crazy.

  “I missed ya, Ma.” I murmur, holding her in my arms for a little longer.

  “I missed you too, sweetheart.” I think I’m safe and nothing bad is going to happen when she hits me with all of her might. A stinging sensation radiates through my arm.

  I raise my eyebrows at her, speaking in a gruff tone. “Seriously?!”

  “You bet your ass I’m serious. Why wouldn’t you tell me that you were coming here? Instead, you just show up at my door, like some lost little puppy!”

  “Well, I had some big news to tell you and I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.” I start off saying, but as her expression tells me that she knows I’m bullshitting her, I stop.

  “Want to tell me what you’ve really come here for? I know it was not about news. If it was news, you would have called me. Or more likely, texted.”

  “He did come to tell you some important news.” Carla chimes in, walking past my mother, further into our formal living room.

  “Oh? Well, please sit and tell me what it is that you’ve flown across the country to tell me in person.” Ma walks over to the couch and takes a seat, while I opt to stay across from her. She can’t hit me from over here. Her arms are far too little.

  “I’ll start with the personal things first, I suppose.” I stammer off. I knew I’d have to tell my Ma about Ksenia, but it won’t be easy. But I also knew that I’d need to talk to my Ma first, that way Ksenia wouldn’t get overwhelmed with whatever it is that my family would have said to her. “I have been seeing someone for a while. It’s not a typical relationship, so I need you to be aware of that. We were seeing one another in secret because her brother isn’t the biggest fan of me. I’ll just spit it out. She’s pregnant with my child.”

  “When are you going to marry her? You must honor this girl.” As I expected, my mother is preaching religion to me right now. “It’s not just a sin what you two have done, but you can’t allow her to have this child out of wedlock. It would be bad for her and your poor child.”

  “Ma, I assure you, my child will be okay regardless. So will Ksenia.”

  “Ka-sen-ya . . . What type of name is that? I’ve never heard of an Italian girl with a name like that!” Oh Jesus. I didn’t expect that she’d want me to be with an Italian girl, but I should’ve known. I hear Carla snicker and look past Ma’s shoulders, seeing my sister fighting to keep it together. She’s living it up right now, watching me getting roasted.

  “She isn’t Italian, but neither is Aria. Isn’t she Romanian if I’m not mistaken?” I ask the both of them, knowing one of them will respond.

  “Aria is half Romanian, half Italian.” Carla responds. Fuck, this conversation isn’t going to go in the way I had originally planned.

  “She is one of us. She has Italian blood running through her veins. So, tell me about this Ka-sen-ya.” My mother says her name slowly, as if she’s trying to figure out how to pronounce it correctly.

  “Sen-ya.” I repeat it a few times, finding it funny that she subconsciously knew the ‘K’ was in there somewhere. “Ksenia is Russian, and she’s smart, and talented and beautiful. I’m only gonna say this once, Ma. She’s who I want to be with, and we’re having a child. We will not be getting married right away. We will do it whenever we feel that we’re both ready. No part of our relationship has been conventional up until now, so she and I need to take things slow. We haven’t really had the time for us yet, and I’m not an idiot. I know we need it.”

  “You are acting like an idiot. By the time you two get to know one another, there will be a baby here. How long does she have, seven more months?”

  I shake my head, “No, less than that.”

  “Lorenzo! Goodness gracious. You use her body to implant your seed inside her and won’t even do the honor of marrying her.”

  I want to vomit just hearing that slip from her lips. “Ma, please . . . If you love me, don’t ever say something like that again.”

  “I just don’t understand it. You know our ways and yet you completely violate tradition. When is the last time you had a confession? What would Father Victor say about all of this? You must honor her.”

  “Ma, it’s twenty-nineteen. Things have changed so much these days.”

  “Salvatore married Aria before Sorina was born.” She blatantly points out. “Things may have changed in the world we live in, but they have not changed in our family. You are disrespecting her by not putting a ring on that finger and marrying her before your child is born. The next thing I know, you’ll tell me that you aren’t christening him or her.”

  I make a face, because Ksenia and I haven’t discussed it. I don’t even know what religion she practices, or if she’d want our child to be christened. This is exactly what I mean when I say that she and I have so much to learn about one another.

  “You will be christening your child, won’t you?” She hisses out, glaring at me.

  I shrug, “Ma, this is all stuff I have to talk to Ksenia about. Like I said, we’re not in a conventional relationship. We still have a lot to learn about one another.”

  “By God, you’d better marry that poor girl and christen this baby when the time comes. So help me, Lorenzo. I will be repenting for quite some time if you do not do as I ask. For I do not know what I will do.” Ma gets up from the couch and rushes out of the living area.

  Meanwhile, Carla walks from behind the couch and takes a seat on the arm. “You know at this rate she’s invited the entire family over to dinner just so she can roast you and let you wallow in your shame.”

  “You mean she’s invited everyone over to act as her pawns?”

  Carla chuckles, “Yeah, pretty much. You know Ma. She always wants everyone to get married.” Something in the way that Carla says it makes me believe there’s something behind her words. I want to ask, but something tells me that not right now is the best time. Instead, I’ll ask later, when the show will begin so to speak.

  12

  “With a heart like that, you deserve the world.”
/>   -R. M. Drake

  Enzo

  I went upstairs a little while ago to check on Ksenia, but she was asleep. I’m not going to wake her. I’ve lugged her across the states and I know she must be exhausted. If she’s still asleep in another hour, then I’ll wake her. I know for a fact that dinner is usually around five or six at night.

  Carla disappeared for a while after she made that weird remark. I’ve tried to not let it fester in my mind, but it’s hard to do. I’ve searched most of the house until I could find her, and she was sitting in the greenhouse, staring at the plants that somehow find their way to survive through these cold months. “You alright?”

  She turns her head towards me for a split second before looking out of the frosted glass. “I’m okay, brother. Honestly, don’t worry about me. I’ve been managing to do well by myself for quite a while.”

  “What you said earlier, it didn’t sit well with me. What did you mean by it?”

  “What on Earth are you talking about?” She grumbles back at me. “Fuck. You always assume that something is wrong when nothing of the sort is going on. If something was wrong, I might even tell you, but it’s not.”

  “You said Ma wants everyone to get married. The way you said it didn’t feel right. It makes me think she’s being super old fashioned with you.”

  She cocks her head at me and gives me a knowing look. “You were born into this family just as I have been. Unlike me, you all can speak up because you have dicks. I am the prized pony of our family, who will one day be used as a piece in this larger chess game of power. You know it, and so do I.”

  “You don’t have to do it.” I say, but as soon as I speak, I know that it won’t be that easy. Life never is that easy. I for one wish that it was.

  She stands up from the bench she’s sitting on and walks towards me, crossing her arms. It’s a move that our mother makes whenever she’s about to tear into someone. “Lorenzo, please, just don’t. I do not have a choice here and you know it. Father hasn’t even made an arrangement for my future, so no need to worry.” She looks at the ground and then back up to me. It might not seem like much, but it is her telling. She’s been doing this since she was a child. Whenever she’s lying, she looks down and then back up. It’s as simple as running your hand behind your ear, or scratching your nose.

  “Bullshit. Tell me what’s bothering you.” I grumble out. I try to remain calm with her, and while we might not talk very often, I’m still her brother. She can still speak to me about things like this. In fact, I want her to. God knows she doesn’t have many others to speak to.

  She holds out her hand and pulls in all of her fingers, only leaving her pinky finger sticking out. I sigh and wrap my own pinky around hers. It seems old habits never die. “You have to pinky promise that you won’t breathe a word of this to anyone. Do you understand?”

  “When have I ever told someone one of your secrets?” I ask. The answer is never. I have never told anyone a thing.

  “As far as I can tell, you’ve kept your word.”

  “Exactly, so tell me what it is that’s troubling you.”

  Carla scoffs, “God, brother. Not everything that goes on in my life troubles me. I’m not some weak damsel. If I am troubled, I bet you that I can handle it myself. Mom doesn’t understand what Father is trying to do. He’s already told me what his plans are for my union, and it might not happen today, but I see it happening within the next year or so. He plans on marrying me off to one of the head Clan leaders.”

  I’m completely flabbergasted by this. “A Romanian? Ma is going to lose her shit. Why a Romanian?”

  She rolls her eyes and walks away from me, heading towards the window. She stops when she gets there and looks back to me. “Like I said, I’m the prized pony of this family. The Romanian Clans are arguably the most dangerous mob in the world. The Vasile name is feared, and even more importantly, it’s respected. Aria is a Clan child, and when she was introduced to the family after Sorina was born, our father grew close to her and the baby. He learned of the Clans, and everything they have to offer.”

  “Okay . . .” I mutter, waiting for her to continue with her story.

  “Father wants to align the Arcane with the Clans. He sees it as an opportunity to have a give-give relationship with the amount of power that one another holds. I see his point, and I understand why he’s doing it. Why he wants me paired with a Romanian. It only makes sense.”

  “But you have never thought about marrying a Romanian. An Italian man was always in the plan for you. . . but I know you better than this, Carla. You wouldn’t just roll over and allow someone to dictate your future. What did you barter with him? What did he give you in order to agree to his plan?”

  “I gave him assurance that I would do what he needs of me, as long as I got something I needed in return – a legacy.”

  “Explain.” I order her, needing to know more. All I can think about is what it is that she has done.

  “I love our family, but I do not want our family to be the only important thing in my life. I am not the type of woman who can be satisfied with solely her family. I need work. I need something to inspire me, to drive me, too . . . help make my days full. You know what I’ve wanted more than anything else in this world, a restaurant, and so I have one. It’s the only thing that I can ever call my own, and I’ve looked over every contract and signed every paper. It’s in my name. Father has no pull when it comes to my business. It is mine, Enzo. That is the price I needed in order to agree. The restaurant, and the understanding that whomever I may marry will not try to take it from me. Father has assured me that it will never be taken from my clutches and has been in talks with some of the Clan leaders. The single ones of course. Father has narrowed it down to three men, Mikel Lungu, Phillipe Sala and Issac Ungur.”

  “You are ready for this, aren’t you?” My question is more for me than for her. I can see it in her eyes. She’s accepted this fate for quite a while.

  The door to the greenhouse creaks open and the two of us look back. “You two better hurry up and get in here before Gianni eats all the Cannoli. Oh, and Enzo, you’d better get your bride to be down here. Ma has been telling the whole family about her.” Sal states as a smile drags across his face. He can see what Ma’s doing too. I’ll tell ya, that woman would never change.

  13

  We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.

  -Elie Wiesel

  Ksenia

  I awake to the feeling of being pushed. I mumble out a groan, feeling the sheets wrapped around me and then it happens again. Something is pushing me. Or nudging me in some sort of way. “Ksenia, wake up.” Enzo’s voice isn’t the usual soft tone that he carries. Instead, it’s rushed, almost nervous sounding.

  I wipe my hands over my eyes and look at him. Something isn’t right. I don’t know how I know, but I just know. “What’s the matter?” I ask, needing him to communicate with me. His eyes dart from side to side. “Just tell me!”

  Enzo speaks and goes on to tell me that he spoke to his mother a couple of hours ago about us. He kept all the information that he gave her vague, but he made it a point and put an emphasis on telling me that his mother believes we’re going to get married before our child is born and all of these old fashioned traditions. He goes to ask me about my religion, if this matters to me, and what I want to do, but it’s all so much. How am I supposed to absorb all of this right now?

  “Slow down . . . Please.” I ask him, and he stops speaking. “I see why you seemed a bit nervous, but why do you still look that way?”

  “My Ma invited my family over to meet my ‘bride-to-be’.” As soon as it leaves his lips, I laugh. I haven’t met this woman, but she sure seems to be one who likes to push buttons.

  “Is that something she’d normally do?” I ask him, genuinely curious.

  He chuckles, “It’s something an Italian mother would normally do when she’s pi
ssed, yes.” I’ve never been around Italians too much, except for that one time, but Daisy had taught me a word when I was with the Skulls and I believe it would fit in this situation. Petty. Daisy would comment about people being petty, and I think Enzo’s mom is being this way now.

  “So, she still wants you to marry me even though I am not Italian?” I question. After hearing how big of a deal it is that I’m Russian, I’m even more confused.

  “Yes, because it’s what God would want us to do.”

  I raise my eyebrows, feeling a bit ballsy. “No, it’s what your mother wants us to do. God loves us all and he won’t criticize us, or our child if we’re not married.” I don’t know much about God, but I know that he is all accepting and forgives those who make mistakes. Religion really was never part of my life much. Then again, how could it be when I was raised under the circumstances that I was?

  Sure, in times of doubt I tried to look for something, or someone to look up to. I didn’t find it though. Instead, I’d talk and have an imaginary conversation in my head with my father, as if he were still alive. His memory, or . . . His legacy is what gave me strength through those dark days. Even on the worst of the worst, I would speak to him in some way.

  “So . . . Your mother has invited your family over for us to eat dinner with as a way to punish you?” I ask. This is all so much. I’m not used to anything like this, but I see how it is. It’s just taking me a minute for it all to make sense.

  “Yep. She wants to force our hand down the path of marriage.”

  What he says strikes a chord in me, a nerve so deep that it lights the deepest of anger. “Enzo,” I place my hand on the side of his face and continue speaking, “I have been forced to do things against my will for most of my years. I will not be bullied into making a decision that I don’t want to make. I’ve been through a lot, and I’m not a slave girl any longer. I’m a woman, more importantly, I’m an American who can make my own decisions. If I want to marry you, I will, but it will be on my own terms. Your mother will not have any part in my decision, nor will the rest of your family.”