A prisoner who had believed she was free for just a few blissful weeks.
In a way, this was comforting. It ripped away the false reality I had indulged in and allowed me to remember the terms of my imprisonment. In a weird, twisted sense, I felt truly free for the first time since the night Gavril stole me.
The car wound its way through the mansions before we hit the freeway and turned off after a few minutes. I noticed the middle-class neighborhood as we drove through, and my anxiety turned into confusion.
Was Gavril going to drop me off here and let me go?
The thought crossed my mind, and I dismissed it as quickly as I had conjured it up. He wasn’t going to let me go, not until I birthed our child and his plan was complete.
So, what were we doing here?
When the car pulled up in front of a modest home with a well-kept yard, I became even more confused. Gavril opened the door and unfolded his tall form, reaching in for me.
“Come.”
I took his hand and willed myself to climb out. At the same time, the front door to the home opened. I didn’t know what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t the two little girls that came running out, their hair streaming behind them.
“Gavril!” the tallest one called out as she reached us first, skidding to a stop. “You’re here!”
To my utter surprise, Gavril bestowed a smile on the young girl. “Alyona. You beat your sister yet again.”
“She got a head start!” the other replied as she reached us. “I already told her not to look out of the window, but she did anyway and it’s not fair!”
“Now, Kira,” my husband responded, placing his hand on her thin shoulder. “Sometimes you have to play dirty to win. Remember our conversation?”
She nodded solemnly, her brown eyes falling on me. “Who is she?”
“That’s for the car ride,” he said, nodding to the car. “Go on. Ivan is waiting.”
The girls dutifully walked to the car, nudging each other the whole way, and I turned to my husband. “Who are they?”
Were they his children? Or something worse? Were they about to be another part of a cruel lesson? An endless stream of thoughts raced through my head, each more horrific than the last.
To my surprise, Gavril didn’t hesitate in his answer. “Alyona is twelve. Kira is thirteen but acts like she is five most days.” He started back to the car where the two girls had disappeared into. “I’m helping their mother with her bills and the girls’ piano lessons. They are auditioning today for the youth orchestra.”
My lips parted, and I struggled to comprehend what he was saying. I knew that my husband had wanted to be a pianist when he was younger, and clearly he still had a passion for it, even if he tried to hide it.
But this? I would never have thought he would have anything to do with this.
“Are they…” I started softly as he reached the door, but I couldn’t finish the sentence.
Gavril knew what was on my mind, turned back to look at me, and asked, “Does it matter?”
Of course it shouldn’t.
But at the same time, of course it did!
Even if I didn’t know who they were, these girls were happy to see Gavril, which meant they saw a side of him that I yearned for.
To remind me that he wasn’t the monster I had seen.
“No,” I replied.
Gavril gave me a single nod and extended his hand to help me into the car. I allowed him to do so, finding the girls on the opposite seat, their eyes wide and curious. Gavril climbed in and the car pulled off.
“Gavril, you will never guess what happened at school yesterday,” one of them, Kira, I believe, started.
Gavril quirked a smile. “What happened, Kira?”
She gave him a smug smile, her cheeks blossoming with red. “I did what you told me to do. I kicked him between the legs and ran away.”
I bit back a sharp laugh as Gavril’s smile deepened. “Did you now, clever girl?”
She nodded. “He tugged on my pigtail for the last time.”
“She got an hour’s detention,” her sister piped up, shooting a look at her sister. “But Momma said that it was worth the hour.”
“I would agree,” Gavril stated, warmth in his voice. “You did well, Kira.”
“I got the highest grade on my math test,” Alyona spoke up, clearly not wanting to be outdone by her sister. “In my entire class!”
“Otlichno, Alyona,” Gavril replied with a wink. “One day you could run my businesses.”
She beamed as well. Their adoration of him reminded me of his sisters. It didn’t matter to them what Gavril did in his businesses or in his Mafia. They saw a man who acknowledged their achievements. His words made them sit taller and feel more important. They made the girls feel like they mattered.
Like his sisters, they loved him for it. And if I hadn’t seen what I saw on the docks that horrible day, I would love him for it too.
“Who is she?” Alyona asked after a moment, her eyes on me. “You’ve never brought anyone before, Gavril.”
Gavril looked at me, his gorgeous eyes boring into mine. “This is my wife, Sveta.”
I maintained my smile, though inside I died a little again. Even after everything, I wanted him to say who I truly was, to acknowledge that he had married me instead of her.
The girls giggled. “You got married?”
That drew Gavril’s attention away from me, and he focused on the girls instead. “I did. Sveta agreed to wed me.”
“Even with your snorting?” Kira asked, pressing a hand to her mouth.
“Even with that,” Gavril replied, his voice light. “Sveta doesn’t mind that I do it every now and again.”
I wanted to know how they knew about his snorting, but held back. “Now,” he continued, lacing his fingers together. “I want to tell you about how you should conduct yourselves during this audition.”
Both girls straightened immediately and gave him their full attention while I watched in awe at how he handled himself. The transformation was subtle, but still noticeable. His expression was light. His forehead wasn’t creased with worry and anger, making him look younger.
The posture was the same: a pakhan handing out orders.
But his voice never rose. It was gentle, caring, even. Yet the power behind it was the same. As I listened, I realized that he wasn’t commanding. He was insisting—guiding.
Like a father.
Would this be how Gavril was once our child was born? Would he remain a father to our child? Or would he transform into a pakhan?
“When you walk into that audition room,” he said. “Hold your head high, like you own the room.”
Kira wrinkled her nose. “What does that mean, Gavril?”
He reached out and ruffled her hair. “It means that you act like you are the queen of them all. You show no fear, no nerves. Tuck them deep down in your soul.” He pointed to his chest, right at his heart. “And meet their gaze as if they are kneeling before you. You show them that you aren’t afraid of anything, especially not them.”
“But what if they’re big and scary?”
Gavril smirked. “Then you tell me about them, and I’ll show them who is really big and scary.”
The car slowed and both girls swallowed hard as they looked out the window, realizing that we had reached their destination.
“Vy gotovi?” Gavril asked them both, his voice soft. “Show me you are ready.”
Both girls immediately straightened their shoulders, their expressions growing determined.
“Now look me in my eyes,” Gavril urged, his expression solemn. “And tell me you are ready.”
“I’m ready,” Alyona stated, raising her chin.
“As am I,” Kira said, doing the same as her sister.
A genuine smile crossed Gavril’s face. “Then I believe you are ready.”
He opened the door and climbed out, reaching in for each girl and helping them to the sidewalk. Finally, he helped me out and deposited me on the sidewalk as well. I watched in awe as he opened the door to the audition hall for the girls, giving each of them a squeeze and a nod as they passed.
“Sveta,” he called out, beckoning me closer. “Come.”
I willingly went to him, holding back my questions as he guided me through the building, the girls no longer in sight. The hallway was filled with the faint sounds of a piano being played, and I wondered if one of their auditions had already started.
Gavril turned away from the music and led us out a side door that opened to an interior sitting area. The sun shone brightly through the glass-domed ceiling above.
But I ignored our surroundings and immediately rounded on my husband.
“What the hell is going on?”