Chapter Fourteen
The crisp spring air cuts through my leather jacket as I lean into my bike. Music is blasting in my helmet as I take the curves, making my way to my father's house. He won't be there. Oleg and Ilya are already there with some men, searching the property. We"re attempting to uncover any hint about the motive behind my father"s decision to go into hiding in America. He needs to die and the fact that I have made no progress towards finding him irritates me. The music cuts out and my phone's ringtone plays in my helmet.
"Da? YA pochti tam (Yes? I am almost there)," I say, "YA ni cherta ne slyshu v etom shleme. (I can't hear a damn thing in this helmet). I will talk to you when I get there." I end the call, and with a quick twist of the throttle, I feel the rush of acceleration.
The gate to my father's property is open, so I just ride up straight into the driveway. The men are waiting for me outside. Oleg is outside talking with a few of them as I park the bike next to the steps. I pull the helmet off. "Blyat (Fuck)!" I curse. "Stupid fucking thing never works."
While I head towards the group of men, Ilya is walking down the steps. "Anything?" I ask, only to be met by him, shaking his head.
"Someone came in and took shit, mostly papers, it seems," Ilya says.
I consider if Sasha was the one who took the paperwork. My father's circle of loyal men has diminished, yet Sasha remains loyal. I step inside the house and quickly assess the area. My boots echo down the hall as I make my way towards his office. Footsteps echo behind me, following me down the hallway. As I enter the office, my eyes scan the room. There's chaos here, papers and books everywhere. The person who came in had no idea what they were seeking.
"My father has a secret safe behind that bookcase," I say, pointing to the one that is next to his desk. Ilya makes his way over to it and pulls on the shelf. It doesn't move. He stands back, assessing the shelf with a perplexed look on his face. I walk over, smirking. I grasp the copy of War and Peace from the shelf. By pulling it down, a lock becomes unlatched.
"I would have figured it out," he mutters under his breath.
"Yeah, when Hell freezes over," Oleg taunts.
I pull the bookcase back and set into the wall is a medium-sized, rectangular safe. It's a pin-code safe of four numbers. I try to think of what four numbers would mean something to my father. I tried his birth year, my mother's, and mine. Nothing. The day he took over as Pakhan. The lights flash red.
"Der'mo! (Shit)" I curse at the damn thing.
I got through a list of random numbers. Nothing. I scan the desk, hoping to find a clue. I dig through the drawers, and a photograph of my mother is in the top drawer. She was so young; I am sure it was before she had me. I flip it over and it says "Katya, 1996"
Two years before I was born.
I hold the photograph in my hand and turn back to the safe. Ilya takes a step to the side. I punch in 1-9-9-6. It beeps, lights turning green and unlocking. I breathe a sigh of relief, tucking the photo away in my pocket. I pull at the safe door. Inside are files, money, guns, and a small wooden box.
I could give two shits about the money, or guns. I collect as many files as possible and proceed to the desk. As I sift through them, I realize he had kept tabs on all of us. Down the smallest detail. He knew everything.
"Blyat (Fuck), he knew everything." I look up at the twins. They move closer to inspect the files. "He knew that Oleg and Mila have been married since after Upper Secondary. He knew about your father and the hell you both grew up in."
File after file, I grew angrier, until I happened upon the last two. A file on my mother, how she was forced to marry him at seventeen. How he killed her parents for fighting to keep her. The detailed rape to produce an heir. It made me fucking sick to read.
The last file was on Lina. Every minute detail of her kidnapping, the names of the people he had take her. How many times Ivan raped her, and his own written account of it. How he planned to kill her and my syn. The photographs fell from the back of the file, flipping over, and I felt sick to my stomach. He had photos of Ivan raping Lina.
Rage, blinding rage, coursed through my body. I shot up and the sound of my pained roar reverberates off the walls. Oleg collects the photos, files, and other items from the safe, packing them into a box for us to take. Ilya pulls me into an embrace and I shatter.
I cry for my beautiful, sweet zhena (wife). How in five weeks she was shown so much brutality. "If we had only found her sooner," I sob into his shoulder. Ilya, who is typically the pillar of stoicism, holds me, whispering to me how we will find my father, that I will get to torture and kill him, avenging Lina. That she is strong, and she strengthens me.
He is right. I am stronger because of her. Vengeance will never taste so sweet. I will conquer this whole fucking country, as long as she is holding my hand while I do it. Power belongs to those who take it and, motherfucker, I am the flame coming to burn down his empire. I'm not the Phoenix that rises from the ashes. I'm the one who makes the ashes.
With no real clues to his motive for going to America, I return home. This morning, Lina told me that Mila and Alexei would be at the house. She needed assistance with finalizing the nursery and getting ready for Raisa"s stay during our baby"s first few weeks at home. I rev my engine, signaling the gatekeeper to open the iron gate. The garage is already open and waiting for me to pull in.
Men greet me as I make my way up to the house. Dmitriy, a young bratva oktyabrya, is sitting on the front steps, devouring an apple, swiftly rising when he spots me coming. "You don't have to be afraid of me, Dmitriy. Please," I motion back to the steps, "eat." Dmitriy is so young. I remember being around his age when I started working with my father. He reminds me of myself. Ambitious, but silently hurting and willing to self-destruct to make everyone else around him happy. I turn back to him, "Why don't you come inside and we can find you something proper to eat?"
Dmitriy nods and I wrap my arm around his shoulder, leading him in the front door. "Gde tvoy otets, Dmitriy? (Where is your father?)" I ask as we make our way into the kitchen. Dmitriy shrugs his shoulders, hanging his head low. Lina is hovering over the stove with Mila, as they prepare food for dinner. She turns, and I wink at her as we walk to the small table tucked next to the back window. As I glance at the bassinet, I spot Alexei, his small fingers curled around the edge. With a subtle hand gesture, I invited Dmitriy to join me by taking a seat. Peering into the bassinet, I witness Alexei's curious gaze as he takes in the world around him.
"Moy voin, tvoya mama i krestnaya ostavili tebya odnogo? (My warrior, your mother and godmother left you alone?)" I exclaim, picking him up and cradling him to my chest.
Both women turn to face me, their eyes narrowing, glares intensifying, and brows furrowing in unison. My laughter reverberates in the room. "Don't worry, I'm just teasing!" I take the seat across from Dmitriy, marveling at my little godson in my arms. "Now, when you shrug your shoulders, does that mean you don't know?" I press Dmitriy further. I watch as the boy draws in a deep breath before speaking.
"Ser (Sir), I honestly don't know. When I was a young boy he left me with a Bratva member and I haven't seen him since," Dmitriy says, trying to mask any emotions he may be feeling.
Poor kid. Left alone with the bratva to raise him.
Mila takes Alexei from me and heads to the garden. I see her sit in a chair, and nurse him in the warm sunshine. Lina walks over with two plates, on them slices of crusty pie, and roasted vegetables. She leans down and places a kiss on my cheek, then turns to Dmitriy. "Eat. Before it gets cold." She says sweetly to him, and he digs in. Satisfied, she checks on the wood stove before leaving the room.
Once I finish eating, I take a deep breath. "Where are you living?" I inquire.
He looks up at me as if confused by my questioning. "I have a small room in the warehouse at your father's property," he says. I nod my head. This kid needs a stable environment and a safe sleeping space at night. It's not safe for him to be alone at the warehouse. I can't allow it. I reach for my kvass, taking a drink.
"Give me just a moment. Keep eating and I'll be right back." I get up and pat him on the shoulder while leaving the kitchen.
I search for moyazhena (my wife), but she"s neither in our room nor the nursery. I check the library, my office, and the front room. I know Raisa will stay in the nursery, but I'll check the guest room, regardless. The door is ajar and I spot Lina putting clean sheets on the bed. "Tsvetok (Flower)? What are you doing in here?" I ask.
She looks up at me, her eyes already telling me why she is doing it. I walk over and help her with the rest of the bedding. After we finish, she wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me to her lips. The soft peck from her pillowy lips has me wanting to have her on this bed. She breaks our kiss and says. "That boy needs a home, doesn't he moy lev (my lion)? He needs a family to care for him, and to make sure he eats and is safe. Couldn't we be that for him?"
The love I feel for this woman right now is boundless, defying human comprehension. Here I was, coming to beg her to let this boy sleep on our couch or even set him up in Alina's old cottage. ‘Here she is, preparing a bedroom as if we'll adopt him. I'm open to it if she's willing, of course. Lina eyes me carefully as if reading my mind. "We need a bigger house. Between the children I give birth to and the ones you're going to be bringing home, this place just won't do." She laughs, and it's still my favorite sound.
"Consider it done, Moya krasivyy tsvetok (my beautiful flower). I will find us the perfect home for our family. After we have malysh (baby)." I kiss her forehead and make my way to the door to tell Dmitriy the news. He remains in the same spot, but now Mila sits with him at the table. It looks as if she has refilled his plate. "We"ll collect your belongings from the warehouse and bring them here. You finish up and we will go. Meet me out front when you're done." I tell him, and he eagerly nods in response.
I inform Lina that I am bringing him to collect his belongings and we would return soon. I bring the brand-new SUV out of the garage and position it by the steps. Dmitriy walks down the steps with Lina, Mila, and Alexei with him. Lina and I are not much older than this boy, but call me crazy if I don't feel for this kid. With a wave goodbye to the girls, he settles into the front seat beside me. As I pull out of the driveway, he turns to me with a subtle smile. "I"m speechless. Ser (Sir), what does this mean?"
"It means you have a home, a proper home. A family that will give a shit about you. I know I am too young to be your father, but if you let me, I'll help guide you through life. You will never be alone again." I promise him, keeping my eyes on the road as I make my way to the warehouse.
Dmitriy looks out the window and whispers, thinking I can't hear him. "You're not too young." I won't lie, it stirs something in my heart to hear him say that.