“Father,” Amara finally snapped and took a step forward. “You will not speak to my husband that way.” Nikolai’s arm snapped out instantly, a bar in front of her that kept Amara from going any closer.
Father laughed darkly. “Is this what the Russians allow?” He addressed Nikolai, but he was staring at Amara. “You let your women fight your battles?”
Nikolai started laughing. “A man is only as strong as the woman at his side. For there wasn’t just Satan but Lilith as well.”
My father narrowed his eyes before looking at Nikolai.
“And if you have a weak woman beside you, well…” Nikolai shrugged, and his unspoken insult was loud.
Our mother was weak from years of being subjected to Father’s abuse and demands.
My father opened his mouth just as the doorbell rang. A moment later I heard the door opening, followed by soft, unintelligible voices slowly filtering into the sitting room.
Father still glared daggers at Nikolai, and I tightened my hand in Amara’s.
“Why don’t you just tell me why you’re really here, Russian?”
Although my father had arranged the marriage between Amara and Nikolai, forming a blood tie between the Desolation Bratva and the East Coast Cosa Nostra, it was very clear he didn’t agree with it.
But he’d gotten direct orders from the higher-ups to orchestrate their union, so he was shit out of luck and would never go against orders.
“Why am I here?” Once again Nikolai’s voice was even. “I thought we were here to have dinner with family?” The way Nikolai spit out that last word told me he didn’t consider Marco such.
Mother started speaking to Father quickly in Italian, but my father refused to look away from Nikolai. And when he lifted a hand in Mother’s direction, she became silent instantly.
Something shifted in the air, and everyone became even more tense.
Noise drew all our attention to the entryway. The servant stood beside Francesca, a girl who ran in the same circles as us. She was Amara’s age, but I knew the two didn’t talk or hang out, even if they saw each other frequently because of who our families were. But after Amara got married, I’d started seeing Francesca around even more.
She’d tell me about how awful her father was, how her mother was too busy going to parties and drinking wine to pay attention to her. The staff at the house ignored her, and the friends she had hated her.
And as we started becoming closer, she admitted to having her relationship with Edoardo, my sister’s former bodyguard. That had been a shock to me. Although I knew Nikolai had killed Edoardo, the rumors I’d heard had nothing to do with Francesca having a relationship with him.
She’d confided in me, that secret I knew she’d have to take to the grave or risk tarnishing her family's reputation. Because God forbid a female of her social standing had premarital sex and fell in love with someone they wanted, especially a lowly foot soldier.
She’d show up out of the blue and just want to sit and talk. We’d watch movies and walk the grounds, but most of the time she’d just want to talk. About anything. Everything.
I felt like she just wanted a friend and had to assume she was lonely, that she didn’t have the closeness of her family or siblings to rely on.
Francesca looked at everyone with wide eyes, her oversize jacket dwarfing her and her hair looking windblown.
The silence stretched out, heavy and thick. There was something off about Francesca, something about her demeanor that screamed she was panicked and on edge.
Although she appeared fine, relatively speaking, she had this glossy, red-rimmed tint to her eyes. I could only assume something had happened at home.
Francesca looked around the room with a startled expression, her hands moving up and down her jacket as if she were trying to smooth away invisible wrinkles.
“Oh. I didn’t realize there were… family plans going on.”
“It’s okay,” I said, feeling bad for Francesca. She looked like something was really bothering her, like she just… needed someone to talk to.
Amara let me go, and I walked around my sister and Nikolai to stand beside Francesca. When I saw the confused look on Amara’s face, I gave her a reassuring smile.
I knew my sister didn’t understand this new friendship I’d struck up with Francesca, but I’d been so lonely that having her just start coming to the house unannounced made me feel like maybe I wasn’t so… alone.
“Now is not the time, Francesca.” My father spat out the words and cast a withering stare in her direction, which had her cowering and taking a step back.
My anger that he was frightening her even more rose.
“I just wanted to talk,” she whispered as she stared at Marco.
Father huffed out and stormed toward her, taking her by the arm and pulling her out and into the foyer.