Abducted by the Bratva: Forced

Marriage Mafia Romance (Zolotov

Bratva Book 1) Isla Brooks
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 ABDUCTED BY THE BRATVA

Forced Marriage Mafia Romance

Zolotov Bratva Book 1

Isla Brooks

Copyright © 2024 by Isla Brooks.

All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of the book only. No part of this book may be reproduced,
scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form, including recording, without prior written permission from the
publisher, except for brief quotations in a book review.
 Contents
Chapter 1 - Audrey
Chapter 2 - Ivan
Chapter 3 - Ivan
Chapter 4 - Audrey
Chapter 5 - Ivan
Chapter 6 - Audrey
Chapter 7 - Audrey
Chapter 8 - Ivan
Chapter 9 - Audrey
Chapter 10 - Ivan
Chapter 11 - Ivan
Chapter 12 - Audrey
Chapter 13 - Ivan
Chapter 14 - Ivan
Chapter 15 - Ivan
Chapter 16 - Audrey
Chapter 17 - Ivan
Chapter 18 - Audrey
Chapter 19 - Audrey
Chapter 20 - Ivan
Chapter 21 - Audrey
Chapter 22 - Ivan
Chapter 23 - Audrey
Chapter 24 - Ivan
Chapter 25 - Ivan
Chapter 26 - Audrey
Chapter 27 - Ivan
Chapter 28 - Audrey
Chapter 29 - Ivan
Epilogue - Ivan
About the Author
Books by Isla Brooks
 Chapter 1 - Audrey
I ruffled around my bed in a futile attempt to get some sleep. Physically, I was beyond tired.
I had been alternating between incessant motions aimed at tiring me out, and complete immobility, hoping my body
would fade and collapse into the pleasant world of dreams. But sleep had fled from me, abandoned me.
A part of me feared that my dreams wouldn’t be as pleasant as I imagined. What if they simply reenacted the events of
the previous night, precipitating all the emotions swirling around me into the only land of rest I knew?
One thing was certain: I wasn’t going to be getting any sleep tonight.
I sat up sluggishly and caught the rays of daybreak streaming from the slits of my window into my room.
I really didn’t sleep all night, I said to myself as I sank back into the bed exhausted.
My alarm blared, thrusting me into alertness, and I immediately turned it off. I sighed and scratched my head. My body
was overcome by fatigue and I felt my heart sinking. I needed to get my mind off things.
Fortunately, it was a Saturday and I could use the day to get myself back together. At least, enough to go to work on
Monday.
Work—that place would only remind me of him, but what choice did I have? I needed the money.
I drew my pillow into a cuddle and buried my head in it, hoping the pain would vanish as well. Tears threatened to fall
but I held my breath. I couldn’t let this get to me.
This weekend was going to be a long one, that was for sure.
Faintly, I heard a doorbell ring. Opening my eyes, I groaned and rose up in a daze. To my surprise, I had fallen asleep. I
guessed my worries had lulled me to slumber at last.
I let out a yawn and passed from my bedroom into the living room. As I approached the front door, a thought came to
mind: what if it was Jeremy at the door? I staggered back. I wasn’t ready to see him, wasn’t even prepared to turn him down.
Every single part of me was terrified of an encounter.
“Audrey, darling! Are you there? Are you alright?” the familiar voice of Charlotte, marked by her British accent, rang
from behind the door.
“Oh, Charlotte!” I called out to her and opened the door. As soon as the door was unlocked, she stormed in. Her
signature aquatic scent wafted into my nostrils as she passed me. She tossed her backpack at one of the chairs and walked
anxiously toward me.
“Are you alright? I heard the news from Ben this morning. I thought Claire was supposed to—”
“Slow down, please.” I sighed and fell into my couch.
She took a deep breath and asked, “How are you holding up?”
“Terribly, so far. I couldn’t sleep last night.”
“Yeah, I can imagine. Had breakfast yet?”
Charlotte dropped two McDonald’s bags on the center table and sat herself down on an adjacent seat. My mind had
been in a flurry so I hadn’t noticed the bags in her hand or the dark circles under her eyes. No doubt she must’ve pulled another
all-nighter working on one project or the other. Charlotte was one of my best friends, and even though she was the busiest
between the two of us, she’d always had my back since our time in college. I took my time to observe her and I realized from
her appearance that she must have rushed down here from her academic work. There was always one way I could tell
Charlotte hadn't had or taken much time to dress up and that was the condition of her hair. Many people would be fooled by the
neat sky blue linen shirt and jeans she was wearing—she actually often carried a change of clothes with her—or the refreshing
fragrance that wrapped her, but what gave her away for me was her hair, which was packed into a messy ponytail. She loved to
carry her hair straight and well parted and if it ever deviated from that, you could be sure her schedule was driving her crazy.
“I got you your favorite, egg bacon biscuit sandwich. I know how much you love them.” Charlotte shot a warm smile at
me. “So are you going to tell me what happened?”
In the end, I had hoped she wouldn’t ask, but I could understand her curiosity. My understanding still did nothing to
make the recollection less painful.
I took a bite of the sandwich while Charlotte took a monk pose and crossed her legs, completely making herself at
home. Her almond-shaped brown eyes, aquiline in nature, fixed themselves on me, simply waiting and searching. I knew what
it was she wanted and it was always better if I related everything to her at once.
“It’s Jeremy,” I began slowly, my voice subtly quivering as I spoke. “I-I found him at Mango’s last night with another
woman. He told me he’d be very busy this weekend and wouldn’t be able to see me, and I foolishly believed him... Anyway, at
Claire’s insistence, I followed her to the club at last. She’s been inviting me since the year began and I finally gave in, you
know. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone. Well, I went with her, only for me to catch Jeremy there!”
I burst into tears. The memory was too painful to bear. The image of Jeremy traced itself in the air as I spoke, along
with the cold, indifferent way he had regarded me when I’d confronted him.
“And what about you? What are you doing here?” he had asked calmly after a minute of silence, as his lips curved into
a sardonic smile. Somehow, he had shifted the blame, the weight of the entire problem, onto me. He always liked doing that.
“So, what did you do?” Charlotte asked, her face full of sympathy.
“What do you think? I threw the ring at him and left the place.” I stood and went to the kitchen to fix myself a cup of
coffee, with Charlotte following closely behind. “Care for some coffee?” I asked her. She shook her head.
I left out the part where he’d cursed at me, calling me a virgin bitch and the like. If I told Charlotte, I was sure she
would hunt him down and beat him to a bloody pulp, or die trying.
“So...what about the engagement?” Charlotte asked hesitantly. I could sense she felt she was walking on eggshells in the
conversation.
“I don’t know. I just—I just don’t know.” I paused, the reality of the situation settling in. “I-I might have to call it off. I
can’t marry someone like him. I’m just scared of seeing or talking to him right now.”
“And about him, I can see,” Charlotte remarked. “It’s alright, love. Just take care of yourself. Don’t rush into any
decision, but personally, I think you should end the engagement. I’ve never really trusted him, and Claire always said she’s
seen him numerous times with different women. Anyways, just take care, alright?”
“You’re leaving?” I asked in surprise as I noticed her grab her backpack and make for the door.
“Yes. I’m really sorry, but this weekend is really busy for me. I still have some parts of my thesis to brush up before I
have to submit it to Professor Jackson. That man is determined to work me to the bone."
And there it was, the source of her stress these days.
"I’ll be back later, maybe with a British mystery novel, a change from the usual macabre Japanese novels you’re so
fond of.”
“Okay,” I chuckled. “Sure. Let’s see what you bring.”
“Have a great day, Gold.” Charlotte waved before disappearing.
Gold, the nickname Charlotte had fashioned for me—Claire’s nickname was Chlorine—was always an amusing and
comforting word to hear from her.
I was alone with my thoughts again.
With my coffee in hand, I fought the fear and went through my phone. As expected, I had several missed calls from
Jeremy. I slid down, going through the messages and notifications until I caught a message that stunned me. It was from Nicole
Monroe, the secretary of Mr. Hamilton Smith, the man I worked for and also Jeremy’s father.
 Chapter 2 - Ivan
I awoke naked in a hotel room.
Slowly sitting up, I looked around to find my clothes littered on the floor. The room swirled around me wildly and the
headache, which at first had only been benign, rose in intensity by degrees.
Everything was a blur; I had no idea what had transpired in this room, no clue as to how I had found my way down here
or why I was here. It was lost in my confusion.
I stood up and put on my briefs, then dragged myself to the bathroom to wash my face. All the while, I looked around,
searching for anything to indicate the purpose of my presence in this luxurious room. The water was cold and it had the effect
of clearing up the fog that hung over my head.
Yes, I could slowly make out the events of the previous night. The memory danced around me, becoming stronger with
every minute.
I had picked up a girl—now that I thought about it, I never got her name—from The Park and brought her here to this
hotel, the Residence Inn by Marriott. I stepped out of the bathroom and into the room, surveying the mess in the bedroom as the
images replayed before my eyes. We had drunk wine, smoked, and had sex here. I looked at the empty spot on the bed where
she must’ve slept.
She left before I woke up, I concluded. They always did.
This was slowly becoming a pattern, a pattern I at first had reveled in—but the more I grew, the stronger the loneliness
became. I was gradually losing myself in the madness of my family and work, and nearly every night I sought to forget that,
tried to drown the sadness with sex and parties, but I knew it wasn’t enough.
All of it was an attempt to forget my dead love, Josephine, to erase her and the guilt I felt. Instead, I was dying inside.
Shame though. That girl last night was a cute one.
I picked up my clothes and began putting them on when I heard a knock on the door. With an indifference toward
whoever was there, I continued putting on my shirt and shoes, buttoning everything and using some of the perfume the hotel
manager kept especially for me as I always requested.
The knock sounded again, louder now.
“I’m coming, goddamnit!” I yelled and sauntered toward the door to see who it was. It was Vlad, my younger brother,
dressed in his blue three-piece silk wool suit, his hair slicked back. He was a perfectionist by nature, including his
appearance. He was often wearing the finest watch he could get his hands on or the latest outfit from any of the famous haute
couture houses he was in contact with.
“Boss.” He greeted casually. “Took you long enough.”
He strolled into the room, his hands tucked in his pockets and as he halted in the middle of the room to look around, his
slouching posture became more pronounced. That was his only flaw, one that our father had tried and failed to erase over the
years. I could practically see the old man turning in his grave.
“Diego,” I called out to one of the guards outside my room whom I had assigned to myself. “Diego!”
“Yes, boss,” the young boy—I guess he must’ve been in his late teens—sheepishly answered and came up to me.
“Get me a burger and fries from the cafeteria, okay? And get yourself one as well,” I ordered, shutting the door.
This world of ours was a terrible one for a boy that young to be in. I feared he wouldn’t live long in this business. He
was better off doing something else.
He didn’t really have a choice, though. His father had owed the Bratva a huge sum of cash and had conveniently passed
away, leaving his family to suffer the wrath of the organization. Eventually, Diego offered to work for the organization and try
to pay off his father’s debt, keeping his mother out of the way.
The boy was proving himself to be reliable. There was certainly some similarity between him and me, both of us
forced into this life against our wishes. But no, now that I thought about it, that’s where we were different. He had wishes,
whereas for me—this was all I had, all I knew, and the Josephine situation proved that to be true.
“You’re going soft on him,” Vlad said to me, disrupting my train of thought and pulling me back to reality. “I hope it
isn’t weakness I’m sensing.”
“Watch your tongue. You may be my brother, but you’re not beyond my punishment,” I warned him.
Vlad was fond of testing the waters, looking for subtle ways to mock me or prove that I was unfit for the position of
Pakhan, or Boss, of our organization. He had always dreamed of leading the group and had even made a case for it during our
time in Boston, but was never awarded that rank. He was the most zealous to the cause. In the end, he was given the role of the
Bookkeeper, controlling the finances of the business.
“Alright, alright. I hear you. I’m sorry.” He smirked and apologized. “Quite the hottie you got yesterday. Pretty wild one
too. You always have a way with women, always bagging the finest chicks.”
“Why are you here, Vlad? Get to the point,” I said to him. There was always a reason for his visits. He wasn’t the kind
to show up and say hi for no reason.
 “Boss!” the familiar voice of Anton roared as he shot through the door. “Forgive me, but we had an incident.” He
struggled to maintain his usual calm composure as he spoke. To my family, Anton was the young boy my father adopted from a
Russian prison. To the Bratva, he was one of the most capable men, while to me, he was my best friend and someone I trusted
implicitly.
“What is it?” I asked calmly, trying to read his mind. He raised his head and inhaled slowly. Anton towered over me in
height and build, with a tanned face and his signature two-piece suit without a tie. He clutched his phone tight as he began.
“One of our warehouses just got hit by the cops and two of our boys have been killed. Another is currently seriously
wounded, but we’ve got Dr. Langdon working on him already.”
“Who the fuck led the raid?” Vlad asked before I could say anything.
“Detective Lopez,” Anton answered.
Turning to me, Vlad said, “Detective Liam Lopez, huh? Sooner or later, you’re going to have to deal with him. I know
you don’t want to, given your history with him, but this is the second time this month.”
Vlad was right and I already knew this, but I still couldn’t bring myself to hurt him. He was the one person I couldn’t.
“No, this is your fault, Vlad. You’re the one who convinced me you would be able to keep the cops off our tail,” I
barked at him. “What the hell have you been doing?”
Before he could respond, I turned to Anton. “Take me to the survivors. Let’s sort this mess out. Was there any damage to
our merch?”
“Everything’s been confiscated by the cops,” Anton swiftly replied, opening the door for Vlad and me. Vlad chuckled
and followed us as we made our way to the elevator and down the building.
There were times I wished I was part of a different family, in another city or country, doing something else with my life,
and this was one of them. Curiously though, I never could quite imagine what a life other than this one would be like. How
were such lives lived?
As we came off the elevator and passed through the lobby, the normal civilians around us were like jigsaw puzzles to
me. How did they carry on with their lives? What did family mean to them? What did they do to make a living? How did they
pass their time?
I’d seen a glimpse of how such a life was led when I was with Josephine, but now that she was gone, that understanding
was gone too.
We approached the cars lined up for us just as Diego emerged from the cafeteria next door, two burgers with fries in his
hands. He handed one burger with fries to me, and turned around when Vlad stopped him and asked for his burger. Diego, with
subdued sadness, handed it over to him. Out of all my siblings, Vlad was the biggest asshole and he loved it.
“Hey!” I called to the boy. “Here you go.” I gave him my burger as I bit down on my fries.
When the boy left, I turned to Vlad. “What’s wrong with you? You don’t even like burgers.”
Vlad simply laughed, got into the car, and dropped the burger onto the seat next to him.
As the car drove us to the Old City of Philadelphia, I looked out the window and gradually my mind returned to the
problems the organization had on its plate.
It was going to be one hell of a day. Anton pulled the car over a good distance away from the warehouse. This was a
mess and the timing was inopportune. Then again, there never was a good time for such things.
 Chapter 3 - Ivan
I rolled the window down and inspected the scene. The place was crawling with throngs of cops and medical
examiners inspecting every corner of the building, while a growing number of rapacious journalists searching for the next big
thing to write about clamored for a statement from the officers on duty.
From my limited vantage point, I scoured the area for Detective Lopez, but he was nowhere to be found.
“Let’s go,” I ordered Anton, and the car sped off. My mind raced, calculating a number of possible actions to take. The
city itself was relatively calm, which made my thoughts seem all the more loud, like an echo reverberating in a large empty
room.
I glanced at Vlad to catch his face already trained on me. I could tell from the mischievous radiance in his eyes that he
was just on the verge of stirring some shit. I had enough of him.
“Stop the car!” I bellowed, and Anton, almost instantly, brought the car to a grinding halt.
“This is your stop, Vlad,” I said clinically, my eyes still fixed on the window.
“W-what?” he began to protest. “Where is this?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” I spoke in a severe tone, and I could sense from the silence that Vlad understood I
wasn’t joking around. I could hear his laborious breathing as he stepped out of the car.
“Handle the media. Make sure it doesn’t trace back to us,” I instructed him. “Don’t come back until this whole mess has
been sorted out.”
He said nothing. I could imagine the pained expression he must’ve had. It was the one he always wore when I became
strict with him, but this was necessary to keep him in line.
“Do I make myself clear!” I thundered.
“Yes, boss,” he answered, and with that, I bade Anton to move.
I looked back at Vlad, and from the distance he resembled a lost little kid.
Soon after, I met with the organization’s personal doctor and had Anton question the survivors for any important
information about how the cops had discovered the warehouse. Meanwhile, Dr. Langdon kept me updated on their health and
how long the recovery time would take. I was considering calling for some of my men in Boston to come down here when my
phone rang.
“Who is it?” I barked.
“Now that’s no way to talk to your only sister, dear brother,” the shrill voice of my older sister Vanya answered, “but
I’ll forgive you this one time.”
“Now’s not really a good time, Vanya,” I tried to reason with her. She liked getting what she wanted but I couldn’t
indulge her this time.
“But I’m back from my vacation with kids, Ivan.” Her voice fell low and serious.
“What?” She is already back? Vanya usually takes any opportunity to have a long holiday and spend time with her kids.
“I’m serious, brother dearest. I just got into town yesterday, and I’m done setting up, so I’m ready to catch up with my
favorite brother.” Her voice now took on a playful tone.
“I’m flattered, but I don’t have the—”
“I’m not asking, Ivan. It’s just for a cup of tea or coffee, or whatever it is you take these days.” Her voice immediately
switched to a harsher tone. She had always known which buttons to push, a skill I wished I mastered as much as she did.
“Okay, okay, I’ll be there. When?” I relented
“Now.”
I sighed. It was better to please her and be done with it once and for all. She had taken on the role of a spoiled Bratva
princess from the moment our father had forbidden her to contribute in any way, simply for being a woman. “I am on my way.”
“Anton!” I called out and said goodbye to the good doctor and set out to meet my sister.
As we drove through the quiet and fancy neighborhood of Philadelphia, I remained silent throughout the entire journey,
lost in my thoughts and strategizing the organization’s next moves.
Finally, we arrived at Vanya’s large mansion. I instructed Anton to watch the car, and I followed Vanya’s men to her
enormous backyard. The neighborhood exuded an air of sophistication and tranquility, with neatly manicured lawns and grand
houses lining the streets. It was a stark contrast to the dark and dangerous world I usually inhabited.
As I stepped into Vanya’s backyard, I was met with the sight of her enjoying a cup of tea under the shade of a large tree.
The hem of her silk coffee-colored dress billowed in the wind. Her backyard was expansive, adorned with beautiful flowers
and a lush garden.
“Alright, kids. Say hi to your uncle Ivan and go inside. Your uncle and I want to have a serious talk.”
They both ran to my embrace, hugged the hell out of me and obediently went inside. I exhaled and approached
approached my sister then, taking a seat in the chair in front of her.
My eyes were cold and piercing, and anyone else would have been left paralyzed in fear. But my sister just returned the
glare. Vanya’s appearance was striking, with several pieces of silver jewelry adorning her neck, wrists and fingers. Her long,
dark hair framed her slim cheek boned face and cascaded down her back, and her eyes held a mix of intelligence and mischief.
With her slim figure and style, she could pass as a model and even during her trips around Europe, where her 'fashion madness'
usually reached its greatest heights. However, the most admirable thing about Vanya was definitely her strength in spite of the
cards she’s been dealt. That same strength made her one hell of a mother to her kids.
“So this is what a girl has to do in order to spend some quality time with her favorite sibling.”
“Vlad?”
Her smile twisted into a frown. “Vlad’s far from my favorite sibling and although I have a soft spot for Sergei, we both
know I can’t bear him stirring shit wherever he finds himself at. I’m talking about you, of course.”
“Ah. Well, lucky me.” I mocked.
“Indeed. So, tell me. What have you been up to? You look exhausted and drained.”
“Yeah, well, running the organization has been—”
“Ever since you were little, you’ve always had a habit of distracting yourself with work rather than facing your
problems,” Vanya cut me off, as she peeled an orange. “It’s always the organization this, the organization that. When was the
last time you were actually happy?”
Her question left me entirely bewildered and silent. Although her gaze was focused on her simple activity, I could still
feel her whole attention fixed unswervingly on me. The question was not a rhetorical one.
“What are you talking about?” I leaned back and laughed off the question. “I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but
I’m always happy. Honestly, ridiculous.”
She shot a glare at me for a moment before reverting back to a smile. She resumed her hum and continued, “I thought
you’d have learned by now that you can’t lie to me. I can see it in your face, the sadness you’re always trying to hide. Plus,
heaven knows our brothers are either utterly useless or adding to the problem.”
This was why I oftentimes avoided visiting my sister. I could never get anything past her perceptive gaze, and every
time I left, it felt like I was doing so completely unclad and it was a race against time to put my mask back on before anyone
else could see me—truly see me. I didn’t want today to be the same.
“I know you suffered a tremendous loss, but that was years ago. You have to move on. You’re really not getting any
younger. You need to get yourself a wife and settle down. You can’t keep playing the lone Mafia Boss forever.”
And there it was, the constant pestering, the conversation everything ultimately circled back into. At this point, she had
become a broken record and the more she insisted, the less inclined I was to consider it.
“If I sound like a broken record, it’s because you make it so,” she sighed. Her telepathy was at work again.
“And what do you know about my life here? I’m telling you I’m happy, but you don’t want to listen. You always want to
play the savior, but I don’t need saving,” I replied at last, my patience finally eroded.
“Well, I know you can’t keep fucking different young girls every night and call yourself happy!” Her voice rose.
Damn, Anton. He must’ve been reporting my activities to her.
Back when I was a teenager, Anton, a few years younger, had been assigned to me as a personal assistant. He
developed into a true friend while rising up the ranks of the organization with me as we grew.
Despite his unwavering loyalty to me, he had always been partial to my sister’s requests. I didn’t know whether it was
because of a greater respect for her or a forbidden love interest, but he would always obey her whims with as much
earnestness as he would mine.
“What I do or who I sleep with is none of your business,” I countered.
She let out a deep sigh and said, her voice lower this time, “I just worry about you, that’s all.”
“Thank you, but I don’t need your worries.” I rose up calmly. “I’ll be sure to come again sometime. I’ll see myself out.”
As I walked out of the compound, I felt the inimitable feeling of sheer nakedness I always felt during these visits. I had
hoped this time would be different. I took one final look at the mansion as well as the surrounding buildings, then got out my
gold cigarette case and pulled one out.
Anton was standing by the car in the same position he had taken when I left. I closed my eyes and took a long puff,
hoping to blow away my frustrations as well.
I paused and from the periphery of my eyes, I stared at Anton. Immediately noticing my gaze, his face stiffened as
though he had committed a terrible crime and I had suddenly become aware of it. His thoughts must’ve raced frantically, hoping
I hadn’t learned about his treasonous communication with my sister.
After a while, I sighed and smiled, looking up at the cloudy sky that promised to pour soon. I signaled Anton and we got
into the car. I was going to let the whole thing slide...for now.
“Moving forward, it has to stop,” I warned him.
“Of course, boss. I apologize,” he replied with deep sincerity.
I closed my eyes in an effort to sleep.
“Where to now?” Anton asked.
“I don’t know, Anton. Just drive.”
I dozed off to the lulling hum of the car, hoping my worries would sink alongside into the dreaming world.
 Chapter 4 - Audrey
“Hello, Miss Sanders?” the voice said. It was cold and robotic, devoid of any feeling. I always hated having to phone
her because of the way her voice usually seemed to herald bad news.
“Yes, that’s me,” I answered politely.
“I sent you an email but just to be certain, I was asked to call you as well. We recently conducted a performance review
and found you lacking in several areas of competence and sociability...”
What? What is she talking about? This has to be a prank call. It can’t be real, I thought, pinching myself repeatedly
as I listened carefully to Nicole’s every word.
“In addition to that,” her crisp voice continued, “management also found that you have violated company policy several
times in the past—”
“Wait, what policy? I’ve never done anything like that!” I couldn’t believe my ears. I could see where this was all
leading to and I couldn’t let that happen.
There was a pause in Nicole’s voice before she said sharply, “Miss Sanders, please don’t interrupt and let me finish.”
My heart sank, every ounce of rebellious spirit dissipating, and I simply listened in silence, accepting whatever was
coming my way.
“As I was saying, in light of all these things, the company has decided to let you go in order to avoid any further breach
of policy. Please know that you will still be paid for your time this month, but effective immediately, you are no longer an
employee of the company.”
Bullshit. This is all bullshit!
“Y-you can’t do this to me,” I tried to say. “I’m innocent! I didn’t do anything!”
“I’m not the one doing this,” Nicole replied mechanically. “I’m simply reading the report and following orders. If you
have a problem, take it up with management.” With that, the line went cold and the silence echoed disconcertingly around the
room.
I tried to hold myself together but I was hyperventilating way too much to even stand properly. I fell to the couch and
thought about what Nicole had said.
I knew someone in management—Adam Harvey. We’d both graduated from the same college and he’d always been nice
to me thanks to that. Moreover, he had some pull in the department.
I wasted no time in reaching out to him.
“Hello, Audrey. What’s up?” Adam asked, sounding a little tense.
“I just got a call from Nicole. She said the company is firing me because of some rubbish about me breaking company
policy and lacking in areas of competence and whatnot. When I told her that couldn’t be right, she said if I had a problem, I had
to take it up with management. I know you’re well-connected in your department. Please tell me this is all a mistake.”
Adam said nothing for a while until he sighed and replied gently, “Audrey, it’s not a mistake. We received the order
early this morning. I found it strange because I didn’t remember any performance review done recently, but the matter is
actually beyond the hands of management. Whatever is going on came from up top.”
And there it was, what I’d feared the most. This was all Jeremy’s doing. That explained why he had taken the time to
make Nicole call me on a weekend and deliver the bad news. I’d never realized how much of a piece of shit he was until this
moment.
“Listen, Audrey, don’t do anything stupid, okay? The boss is a very powerful man and you don’t want to mess with him.
Just move on, alright? I’d hate for anything to happen to you.”
I wasn’t in the mood to listen to Adam. We said goodbye, and I switched off my phone. Clenching my fists in anger, I
thought about storming out and confronting Jeremy, but I knew he would deny any involvement. Moreover, the evidence against
me must’ve already been fabricated, so I would have nothing to say.
As painful as it was, Adam was right. There was nothing I could do.
For the next couple of days, I hid away in my dimly lit apartment, allowing the weight of my recent job loss to crush me
into submission. Depression had taken hold, and my tears seemed endless.
My phone buzzed constantly with calls and messages from concerned friends, but I couldn’t bear to face them, unable to
find the energy to put on a façade of strength. It was just easier to isolate myself. I had no family I could turn to, as I had only
ever known the shelter of foster homes, migrating from one home to the next as a result of one misfortune or the other. I curled
up into a ball and cried my days away.
On one particularly gloomy day, my best friends, Charlotte and Claire, decided they’d had enough of my self-imposed
solitude. They showed up at my doorstep, unannounced, and refused to leave until I opened the door. Despite my protests, they
were persistent, and eventually I gave in to their unwavering determination.
“Come on, Gold, we’re not leaving until you come out with us,” Charlotte declared, her tone brooking no argument.
With a sigh, I surrendered, wiping away the traces of tears from my cheeks before unlocking the door. Charlotte’s eyes
softened as she took in my disheveled appearance.
“We’ve missed you,” Claire said gently, wrapping her arms around me in a warm hug. In a short tight dress and an
oversized denim jacket, she appeared, as she always did, ready for a party. She was the most energetic of us all and, in
Charlotte's opinion, the most childish. She had short blonde hair, freckles on her face that gave her a cute charm, and a petite
figure. Despite her small size, she did have large breasts that often left Charlotte and I envious. She could be overly optimistic
but her energy often balanced us out, countering Charlotte's serious attitude.
Charlotte joined in, adding, “Yeah, we’re not going to let you mope around forever. It’s time to get out and have some
fun.” I found the statement shocking since Claire was often the party freak of our group while Charlotte was the busy,
withdrawn one.
Reluctantly, I allowed them to lead me away from the confines of my apartment. Claire suggested going to a club, which
was the last thing I wanted. I thought being in a crowded, noisy place would only amplify my anxiety. But Charlotte concurred
and I knew she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“Okay, fine,” I answered flatly.
“Perfect!” Claire’s face glittered. “I know just the one. There’s this new place Ben and I recently discovered. Well, it
was actually my friend Jasmine who took us there, but anyway, it’s really fun.”
“Hear that, Gold? It’s really fun!” Charlotte said with a hint of sarcasm. “What’s the name of the place?”
“Sinner’s Paradise by—you know what? I’ll text you girls the address.”
Claire left us to pick up her boyfriend, Ben. Charlotte stayed by my side, determined to see this through. She picked out
a dress for me, did my hair, and we set off. We arrived at the location to find Claire and Ben already waiting for us. It was a
fairly quiet corner on K Street with a staircase that led down to some basement. We were led down to the basement and
suddenly thrust into a world of loud electronic music and bright kaleidoscopic lights.
Claire introduced us to her friend, Jasmine, a lively and free-spirited soul, who had an aura of confidence I slightly
envied. Jasmine’s boyfriend, who went by the nickname Akira, had heavy tattoos and piercings that gave him an intimidating
exterior, but when he spoke, he surprised us with his warm and friendly demeanor. The duo was an interesting pair, unique in
their own way.
The vibrant lights and pulsing music were overwhelming. I felt like an outsider in my own skin, but Charlotte kept me
grounded, holding my hand as she guided me through the maze of people.
As the night wore on, I found myself opening up to this newfound group of people, thanks to Charlotte’s unwavering
support. Slowly, the weight on my chest seemed to lighten ever so slightly.
“Hey, Audrey. Here you go.” Claire handed me a shot of some cocktail.
“Wait, Audrey, don’t—” Before Charlotte could finish, I had already downed the drink.
“What was in that?” Charlotte asked Claire in a severe tone.
“I don’t know, but Akira makes a mean cocktail. I mean, look at her,” Claire cheered me on.
The thumping music and the hypnotic lights gradually drew me into a trance, making me forget, if only for a moment,
about the constant loop of self-doubt in my mind.
“Fine, but don’t give her too much, okay?” I heard Charlotte say to Claire.
“You got it.” Claire dragged me onto the dance floor then, her infectious energy infusing life into my weary soul.
Charlotte followed closely behind.
In the midst of flashing lights and swirling bodies, I lost myself, the cares of the world momentarily fading away. The
rhythmic pulse of the club’s music enveloped me, drowning out my worries and despair. My body moved to the beat, guided by
the hypnotic lights that painted the dance floor with ever-changing colors.
I glanced over and spotted Claire and Ben, laughing and dancing together. They were caught up in their own world,
grinding and stealing kisses in the sea of moving bodies. They looked happy, carefree, like Jeremy and I once had. A part of me
hoped that maybe, just maybe, I could find that spark again too.
Charlotte, on the other hand, was already flirting with a cute guy, her infectious laughter intermingling with the music.
Feeling thirsty, I made my way to the bar, the air thick with the scent of sweat and perfume. It was there that I noticed
him walk in—a handsome man with a cold and dark aura around him. He was strikingly tall, standing at a height of over six
feet, with a sinewy build and broad shoulders.
Trying not to stare, I sat down and took to stealing glances at him as I sipped my cocktail. There was something about
him that entranced me. He was dressed in a tucked-in, buttoned-up white shirt with a stylish black vest over it and black pants.
His dark hair was slicked back and a medium stubble beard lined his chiseled jawline. He stood at the other end of the small
bar, leaning on the granite countertop with a hand tucked into his pocket. He seemed bored as his deep-set eyes roamed the
club listlessly, as though in search of something, anything at all to save him from the weariness that seemed to haunt him. The
tattoos on his free hand caught my eye and further intrigued me, hinting at a mysterious past.
Our eyes met, and in that brief moment, the world seemed to stand still. It was as if we were speaking a silent language,
communicating through our intense gazes. His eyes changed, now holding a depth of desire and longing that resonated with
something deep inside me.
Before I could fully process what was happening, a group of young girls flanked him and tried to lure him onto the
dance floor. He refused their advances, his eyes never leaving mine, and then without a word, he vanished into the rocking
crowd. My heart raced as I stood there in shock, trying to comprehend the intensity of our brief connection.
Jasmine approached me, her eyes filled with concern. “Hey, Audrey, are you alright?” she asked, her voice barely
audible above the pulsing music.
I nodded, still feeling dazed from the encounter. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just got lost in the moment, I guess,” I replied, trying to
dismiss the unexplained attraction I felt toward that mysterious man.
Returning to the dance floor, I shuffled through the crowd, my body moving in harmony with the pulsating beats. In the
midst of the flashing lights and bodies swaying, I felt a firm but gentle touch on my shoulder. Turning around, I found the
mysterious man behind me, his presence both electrifying and intimidating.
He said nothing, his gray eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. The feeling was
nothing I had ever known before. In that moment, it felt like he could see right through me, like he knew every secret I hid
within myself.
“And you are?” he finally asked as his arms wrapped around me tighter.
“Oh, A-Au…” under the intense energy, I found it difficult to speak, “Audrey.”
“Audrey, huh?” He gently raised my chin and held my gaze for a moment before twirling me around.
“And what about you?”
He smirked and drew closer. “Well, wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Yes.” My confidence rose the more I interacted with him. His fierce and bold energy diffused into me. “Yes, I’d like to
know.”
After a playful pause, he finally answered my question. “Ivan,” he said, his amused expression shining in the
kaleidoscopic lights.
We danced, our bodies moving as one, and as the music crescendoed, he leaned in, his warm breath caressing my ear.
“Let’s get out of here,” he whispered, his voice seductive and irresistible.
I knew he was trouble, a mysterious enigma with an aura of danger, but I was overcome with desire, especially after my
crazy experience with Jeremy and his father. To hell with it all! It was as if the world around us had faded away, leaving only
the two of us in this mesmerizing dance.
Before I could think too much, before I could let myself think too much, I turned to Charlotte, who was wrapped up in
the arms of the guy she had been talking to earlier. “I’m going to head out with someone. Don’t wait up for me, okay?” I told
her, hoping she’d understand.
Charlotte had a little look of concern on her face. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” I pecked her on the cheek and embraced the tall figure standing next to me. She grinned mischievously,
giving me a knowing look. “Go have fun then! I’ll be just fine,” she replied, giving me a playful wink.
As the man’s strong arms wrapped around my shoulders, we left the loud club behind, stepping out into the cool night
air. The city lights glittered like stars and I found myself smiling, truly smiling. Anxiety fluttered within me, knowing that I was
most likely about to lose my virginity. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, as we headed toward his hotel room.
There were no pleasantries, no games, just straight to the point. His lips pressed against mine as his arms held me in a
passionate embrace.
In that moment, I allowed myself to embrace the uncertainty, the thrill of desire, and the possibility of something
unforgettable. Something in me knew that crossing this threshold with this mysterious man would change me, for better or for
worse. But sometimes, the allure of the unknown could be the very thing that set us free.
 Chapter 5 - Ivan
There was something different about the previous night, something that seemed to give it an unnaturally blissful quality.
It was the first time I had felt something like this in a long while. It was almost like I had known her for years but we had been
estranged as a result of one unfortunate circumstance or the other.
The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow upon the hotel room. The room itself was
adorned in rich, dark hues, reflecting my somber disposition. The air carried a faint scent of cologne and lingering passion
from the night before.
I stirred from my slumber, and my eyes landed on her—Audrey—still sleeping soundly beside me.
Her presence was a shock to my system. In my world, women never stayed after the night was over but always left
before I woke up. It was almost like there was some unspoken rule in place and eventually I’d gotten used to it.
This time was different. There was something about her that drew me in, and I subtly enjoyed the feeling of her beside
me. The presence of another in my bed had a unique feel to it, and strangely enough, I found myself enjoying it. I couldn’t deny
the attraction that tugged at the edges of my guarded heart, a pull I hadn’t experienced before.
I observed the woman still fast asleep on the bed, cuddling one of the large pillows. As my eyes traced the outline of
her naked body, partially covered by the blanket, I found her figure incredibly alluring. Everything about her was enticing, even
the way her curly brown hair tousled in her sleep. She had a small round face with small perky breasts and a curvy waist. Her
eyes were hazelnut in color, perfectly accentuating her hair. She was short, about five feet four inches. I recalled how sexy she
looked at the club, instantly drawing me with her presence. She was wearing a red minidress that clung to her figure while her
hair had been packed into a ponytail. I could relive that first encounter with her in the club a thousand times.
Yet in a strange paradox, there was an innocence about her that had the effect of making me protective of her, a
complete stranger. In her deep slumber, she was at once a woman, entirely seductive, and a child, free and pristine.
I drew closer to her, a part of me wanting to touch her one more time, to just brush my hand against her hair and, if
possible, become like she was—untainted. My hand inched ever so close to her face before a conflicted sigh escaped my lips.
I decided to dress and leave before she woke up, a reversal of the roles I was used to.
Sighing, I dressed and quietly slipped out of the room, leaving her undisturbed. This feeling was new to me, and I
wasn’t sure how to process it. It was as if I had stumbled upon something unfamiliar and dangerous, like a hidden door in the
depths of my heart that I’d never known existed. I had heard the rumors and complaints that had circulated among the older top
officials of the Bratva about my unmarried status at my age and rank. Although I never listened to them, the girl made me
consider marriage, even if it was for a second.
Outside the room, Anton, my loyal companion, was waiting for me. His watchful eyes caught the faint traces of turmoil
on my face. “Everything alright, boss?” he asked, concern etched in his voice.
I forced a reassuring smile. “Yeah, everything’s fine, Anton. Just some business to attend to,” I replied, hoping to dispel
any suspicion. I couldn’t afford to lose myself in emotions. My world demanded a cold and calculating demeanor, and I had to
maintain that façade.
As we made our way downstairs, my thoughts kept returning to the girl I had left behind. I couldn’t shake the memory of
her innocent face from my mind. She was a temptation I couldn’t afford, a bright light in the darkness that surrounded me. She
had stirred something within me, something that threatened to disrupt the carefully constructed walls I had built around my
heart.
But I knew better than to entertain such thoughts.
I couldn’t let myself be swayed by the allure of a fleeting connection. I had built a reputation as a ruthless and cunning
man, and I knew any association with her would ultimately spell disaster for both of us, just like it had done several years ago.
I ordered breakfast to be sent to my room, a parting gift for the beautiful young woman I had spent a wonderful night
with, and then made my way out of the building. The cool morning air brushed against my skin, calming my mind for a brief
moment.
I focused my mind on the plan against the Bianchis, my long-time rivals in the shadows. The mission ahead required my
utmost attention and precision, and I couldn’t afford any distractions. With a steely resolve, I set my sights on the task at hand.
The Bianchis had crossed a line, leaking information to the police about the location of one of our warehouses, and it
was time for them to face the consequences. They were the only ones who could’ve done such a thing.
My thoughts were still in turmoil, torn between the allure of the mysterious girl and the path I had forged for myself in
this dark world. I had to stay focused, be ruthless when necessary, and bury the enigma of that divine night deep within the
recesses of my soul.
“Take me back home, Anton,” I ordered, and we sped back to my mansion, where I would devise every move to
perfection.
 Chapter 6 - Audrey
Ever since my unforgettable sex marathon with the stranger from the club, an inexplicable sense of relief and tranquility
had washed over me. It was as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, and I owed it all to Charlotte’s insistence on
taking me out that night. She was right; sometimes all one needed was a way to unwind and let go of their troubles.
I sipped on a warm cup of coffee, relishing the comforting aroma that filled my small, cozy kitchen. It was a new day,
and I couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of hope and positivity.
As I scrolled through job listings online, my thoughts returned to the mysterious man once again. Regret gnawed at me
for not getting his name or any way of contacting him. All I had were the vivid memories of his tattoos, like intricate stories
etched onto his skin.
There was something intriguing about him, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Something quite dark and
enticing all at once.
I remembered my call with Charlotte the morning after my night with him.
“Hey, Gold.” She had sounded like she’d just woken up. “How are you doing?”
“I’m great actually.”
“Really? That’s lovely to hear.” Her voice had become more animated.
“How did your time with that guy go?” I’d asked, my question referring to the guy whose arms she had been
wrapped in during our time at the club.
“Oh, turned out he was an idiot.” Charlotte had sighed. “And you know I can’t stand idiots. He didn’t even know
arithmetics.”
“But how was the sex though?” I’d softly inquired.
“Meh, comme ci comme ça. It was just there,” she’d replied before exclaiming, “Aww! Look at you, now talking
about sex. Girl’s all grown up. I take it your night went well then?”
“It was magical,” I’d started, before holding myself from geeking out about the experience.
“I’m not surprised. When Akira heard about the guy you ended up with, he said you scored it big. Apparently, he’s a
top public figure involved in philanthropy or something like that,” Charlotte had commented. “At least you got his name,
right?”
“Yeah, I did,” I said triumphantly, “Ivan is his name.”
“He’s Russian? That explained his charm. I mean, I didn’t get a very clear look at him but from the little I—you
know what, never mind. I’m just happy for you,” Charlotte laughed. “Sorry, Gold, but I have some work to do, okay? I’ll
talk to you later.”
“Alright. Later, Char.”
With a sigh, I brought myself back to the present and reminded myself that I should focus on finding a job first. My
encounter with him had been a beautiful and fleeting moment, but reality beckoned, and I needed to be practical.
I continued my morning routine, washing my dishes and tidying up the kitchen. The gentle hum of the coffee machine as I
added extra coffee to my cup provided a soothing soundtrack as I moved about, lost in my thoughts.
As I sat down with my laptop again, I couldn’t help but wonder about the man from the club. What kind of life did he
lead? What were the stories behind those tattoos? I wanted to know more, and it surprised me how much he had managed to
linger in my thoughts.
Pushing aside my musings, I returned to my job search. I scanned through various listings, hoping to find something that
would ignite my passion and provide a fresh start.
The morning passed by quickly, and I found myself engrossed in my quest for employment. Time seemed to blur, and
before I knew it the clock struck noon. I stretched my arms, realizing that my coffee had grown cold, but the warmth within me
persisted.
As I shut my laptop and cleared the kitchen, a sense of gratitude washed over me. The night with the mysterious man
had taught me something invaluable. Life was unpredictable, and sometimes all I needed was to seize the moment and let go of
my inhibitions.
The kitchen was now clean and orderly, mirroring the sense of calm that had settled within my heart. I stood by the
window, gazing out at the world beyond, feeling hopeful for what the future had in store.
Today was a new beginning, and I was ready to take on whatever challenges life threw my way. I figured there was no
better way for me to celebrate the new beginning than by getting a new novel to read.
As I stepped into the bookstore, the familiar scent of ink and paper enveloped me, instantly igniting a sense of
excitement and nostalgia. There was something magical about bookstores—the sight of shelves filled with countless stories
waiting to be explored, the feel of crisp pages beneath my fingertips, and the promise of escaping into different worlds. Books
had always been my solace, my refuge during stressful times growing up, in college, or when charting out a new course in life.
I wandered through the aisles, my eyes darting from one cover to another, in search of a new mystery novel to delve
into. The mystery section held a treasure trove of possibilities, and I couldn’t help but feel a rush of anticipation as I browsed
through the titles. I was particularly interested in Japanese novels—I had gotten hooked on them ever since I’d read The
Perfect Insider by Hiroshi Mori when I was a teenager.
Just as I was about to reach for a promising book, I found myself in a serendipitous encounter. A tall, handsome man
with tanned skin and messy hair seemed to be equally captivated by the same novel. Our hands reached for it simultaneously,
and our fingers brushed against each other.
“Oops, sorry!” he exclaimed, flashing a warm smile.
I couldn’t help but feel drawn to him. It wasn’t just because of his good looks; there was something about his kind aura
that made me feel at ease.
“No worries,” I replied with a playful grin. “You can take it if you like.”
He shook his head gently. “Oh no, I couldn’t do that. You found it first. Please, go ahead.”
I chuckled, appreciating his gentlemanly gesture. “Alright then, thank you.”
I took the book in my hands, my curiosity piqued by the cover and synopsis. It was a serendipitous find, and I felt a
thrill of excitement, wondering where this mystery would lead me.
“So do you come here often?” the man asked.
“Umm, yeah actually. Books are kind of my thing.” I smiled softly.
“What a coincidence, same here!” he exclaimed with a playful gesture. “But I’m new here.”
“To this bookstore?”
“Nah, to this town itself. It’s a lovely place, very peaceful.” He nodded, staring out into the distance like some cartoon
character lost in a comedic monologue.
“Well, I don’t know if anyone has officially welcomed you yet, but allow me to welcome you to the beautiful city of
Philadelphia.” I bowed exaggeratedly, causing a laugh to escape the man’s face.
“Oh, I assure you, no one has.” He blushed.
“Then I’m the first,” I smirked. As we continued to browse the shelves, we struck up a conversation about books and
our shared love for literature. It felt like we had known each other for years, our words flowing effortlessly as we bonded over
our favorite authors and literary clichés.
“Do you often read Japanese mystery novels?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest. “The book in your
hand, you went for the same one I did—The Early Cases of Akechi Kogoro.”
“Yes, actually,” I replied. “I just finished one recently. It was a captivating read.”
His face lit up in excitement. “Which one was it?”
“It was The Tattoo Murder Case.”
“By Akimitsu Takagi?” His face lit up.
“Yes, exactly. Such a clever and suspenseful plot,” I shared.
His grin widened. “I couldn’t agree more. That was actually one of my first reads.”
We ended up choosing our books and making our way to the checkout counter together. The conversation flowed
seamlessly, as if we were old friends catching up after a long time apart.
As we prepared to leave, he turned to me with a hint of wistfulness in his eyes. “I hope we’ll meet again,” he said
softly.
I didn’t want the connection to end either. “Why don’t we exchange numbers then?” I suggested, eager to keep in touch.
But to my surprise, he shook his head, a mysterious smile playing on his lips. “I believe in the magic of serendipity.
Let’s leave it to chance and fate to bring us together again. I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”
His words caught me off guard, but there was something enchanting about the idea. I nodded, feeling a sense of warmth
from his parting words.
After we bid each other farewell, I watched him walk away, a tangle of emotions swirling within me. That chance
encounter had left an indelible mark on my heart, and I found myself looking forward to whatever fate had in store for us.
In the span of a few days, I had already met two intriguing men. My heart could hardly contain its excitement.
With my new book in hand, I left the bookstore, knowing that this unexpected encounter had turned an ordinary day into
something magical and extraordinary. And just like the stories within the books I loved, I knew that this chapter of my life was
just the beginning of something beautiful and unknown.
 Chapter 7 - Audrey
I woke up feeling a little off one day, but I brushed it off as just another one of those passing things. However, when it
happened again the next morning, I started to feel more uneasy. My head was pounding, and I felt an overwhelming sense of
fatigue. I popped some over-the-counter drugs, hoping it was just a fever or a bug that would go away soon.
Days passed, and the symptoms persisted; I even started throwing up some mornings. The drugs only provided
temporary relief, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. I tried to ignore it, convincing myself that I was
overreacting. After all, I had been feeling so peaceful and content lately. What could possibly go wrong?
Deep down, a gnawing doubt lingered, and my intuition told me to take a pregnancy test, just to be sure. It was the
logical thing to do, right? Still, I hesitated, a part of me terrified of what the result might be.
I couldn’t fathom the possibility of being pregnant. It wasn’t a part of my plans, especially not now.
Despite my fears, I found myself standing in the drugstore aisle, holding that little white box in my trembling hands. I
took a deep breath and mustered the courage to face the truth, to know once and for all.
It’s probably nothing, I tried to tell myself.
Back home, I sat on the bathroom floor, the test before me like a ticking time bomb. The seconds felt like an eternity as I
waited for the result. My heart was pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears.
When I finally looked at the test, I felt the ground shift beneath me. The two lines stared back at me, and my heart sank.
Pregnant. The word echoed in my mind, leaving me shocked and devastated.
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I felt a whirlwind of emotions crashing over me. Fear, confusion, and a sense of loss
gripped my heart. I wasn’t ready for this, and I didn’t know what to do.
No, maybe this is just a false positive, I declared.
The next day I got several tests to fully confirm and dispel any doubt in my mind, but the result was always the same:
Pregnant.
I sat on the bathroom floor, feeling the weight of the news settling upon me. It was overwhelming, and I wasn’t sure
how to handle it. My peaceful and quiet life suddenly felt chaotic and uncertain. What about the promise of an exciting future?
The hope I’d felt days before had now vanished into a dream.
For a moment, I berated myself for not being more careful, for not taking better precautions. But then I realized that life
didn’t always follow our plans. I struggled to grapple with the reality of the situation.
I couldn’t catch my breath. My heart pounded in my chest like a drum, the sound reverberating in my ears. My body
trembled uncontrollably, and a wave of dizziness washed over me. It felt like the walls were closing in, suffocating me. Panic
consumed me, swallowing me whole.
I sank to the floor, clutching my chest as if trying to hold my racing heart in place. My mind was a chaotic whirlwind of
thoughts, fears, and worries. I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t find a way to escape the suffocating grip of anxiety.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I struggled to regain control of my breathing. But the more I tried, the more elusive
it became. It felt like I was drowning in my own fear, gasping for air that seemed to slip through my fingers.
Minutes felt like hours, and the intensity of the anxiety attack seemed to have no end in sight. I desperately wanted it to
stop, to find some reprieve from the overwhelming panic coursing through my veins.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the storm within me began to subside. My breathing gradually steadied, and the
trembling in my body eased. I was left feeling exhausted, drained from the relentless battle with my own mind.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, I reached for my phone and dialed Charlotte’s number. She answered on the second ring,
concern evident in her voice. “Audrey, are you okay?”
“I-I had an anxiety attack,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t handle this, Charlotte. I can’t.”
She listened patiently as I spilled out my fears, my worries, and the crushing weight of the news I had just received.
When I finally told her that I was pregnant, she was silent for a moment, shocked to hear the unexpected revelation.
“Why didn’t you guys use protection or birth control?” she asked, trying to understand.
“I don’t know,” I replied, my words barely audible. “We thought...I thought it would be okay, just this once.”
I felt the weight of my own naivety and recklessness pressing down on me. The one time I let my guard down, the one
time I gave in to temptation, and it led to this—an unplanned pregnancy. I couldn’t help but feel like the universe was playing a
cruel joke on me, reminding me just how unlucky I truly was.
As I choked back tears, I could feel Charlotte’s concern through the phone. “Audrey, it’s going to be okay,” she
reassured me. “We’ll figure this out together.”
But in that moment, all I could think about was how my life had taken an unexpected turn. The anxiety attack had shaken
me to my core, leaving me feeling vulnerable and broken. I couldn’t see past the fear and uncertainty that now clouded my
future.
“I need some time alone,” I said, my voice cracking. “I’ll call you later.”
With that, I ended the call and allowed myself to break down in tears. I cried not just for the pregnancy, but for the
overwhelming burden of anxiety that had gripped me. The weight of it all was unbearable, and I knew I had to find a way to
face my fears and navigate this unexpected journey with strength and resilience.
But for now, I allowed myself to cry, to release the pent-up emotions that had been building inside me.
After an entire day spent in tears, I shuffled to my feet and groggily made my way to my room. I hadn’t had sex with any
other person before and after Ivan, so I was certain he was the father.
I wonder what he will say, a thought formed. Maybe if I just tell him, he might help me, might offer his support. I was
banking on the connection we had made that night, hoping that he would regard me kindly. I couldn’t handle a child, not on my
own. To begin with, I didn’t exactly know what it meant to be a good parent since I’d never had one. I needed him, and the
child needed a father.
If I could just find and get to him, everything would be solved. The naive thought resonated in my head. It filled my
heart with a faint sense of hope.
I was armed with nothing more than his name and the fact that I met him at the Sinner’s Paradise club.
“Hello, Claire,” I phoned her hoping she’d be able to help out.
“Oh, Audrey,” she said from the other side. There was a subdued energy in her voice as she spoke, as though she tried
to contain her excitement and curiosity as to why I had called her. “What’s up? How are you doing? Charlotte and I haven’t
heard from you for a while now and you’ve not been responding to our calls and messa—”
“I’m sorry, Claire. I know I’ve been off lately, but right now, I need a favor,” I interrupted, struggling to conceal the
urgency in my voice as I paced around my room, “Can you get me in touch with Akira? You know, Jasmine’s boyfriend?”
“Yeah, I can. What’s wrong though? What do you need him for?” Claire inquired.
“I just need to get some info from him,” I replied tersely.
“Okay... But really Audrey, how are you doing?”
I paused for a while as I tried to find the right words to say. “I’m fine, Claire. Don’t worry, I’ll get through this,” I
assured her.
“And what are you going to do about the baby?” She asked delicately.
“I’m still figuring that out, but I’ll be fine. Just text me his number, Claire. Thank you,” I concluded before hanging up. I
sank into my bed and let out a deep sigh. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I fought against them. My phone buzzed and I sat up to
find the contact of Akira Takeyama.
Thank you, Claire.
I took a deep breath as I dialed the number. Here goes nothing.
“Hello,” he answered softly and deliberately.
“Hello, Akira. It’s Audrey. I’m a friend of Claire’s,” I began the process of introductions and explanations, “We met at
—”
“Oh, Audrey. Yeah, I remember you. What can I do for you?” He cut in energetically.
“So… This might be a little odd, but my friend Charlotte told me you know the man I had been with that night. That Ivan
guy.”
“Oh, Mr. Ivan Zolotov.”
“Yes!” I said excitedly, the hope in me rising. It’s a start.
“Can you tell me more?” I asked trying not to sound too hopeful.
“Well, like I told your friends, he’s a very powerful public figure and philanthropist with strong ties with the city’s top
political figures. His family is wealthy but he’s generally a recluse, often hiding from the public view, except on important
occasions. That’s about all I can give you.”
I felt my hope dwindling the more I heard. Everything indicated that he would be very difficult, if not impossible to
meet.
“But… He does have a small weakness. He often frequents nightclubs, especially the Sinner’s Paradise where you met
him at. It’s kind of the only time he interacts with the public and sort of… unwinds,” There was something about the way Akira
emphasized the last word that made me understand what kind of ‘unwinding’ he was talking about.
“But if you’re planning on approaching or meeting up with him somehow, I’d advise against that,” Akira said.
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s an option,” I murmured.
“Anyways, thank you so much, Akira. This means a lot.” I hung up before he could protest. I picked out a jacket and
laid on the couch in the living room, trying to will time to move faster.
At last, when it was nighttime, I rushed to Sinner's Paradise and stalked the entire club and its surroundings. I waited
patiently throughout the night keeping an eye out for Ivan, half hoping that Akira or Charlotte or anyone else wouldn't catch me
here.
The trip ended without success and I went back feeling dejected.
That's just night one. I'm sure if I'm consistent, I'll find him, I tried convincing myself.
I have to find him, my anxious mind repeated constantly.
 For the next three days, I visited the only thread I had to go on but without avail. I quickly learned what Akira meant
when he said that Ivan was withdrawn from society after I tried to learn more about him online but failed to find much on him.
Beyond his professional bios and achievements, there wasn't anything else to go on.
Each time I saw his face online, my heart skipped a beat. An electric current ran through my spine as the memory of his
touch was revoked and I could feel his lips pressing against mine.
Ugh, I have to stop this. And yet, it seems I am unable to. Ever since that night, he had somehow occupied a spot in my
mind and it didn't look like he was ever going to leave there. And then, there’s the whole me-being-pregnant-with-his-child
part. I snickered and went to prepare and go to the club once again, swearing this was going to be the last time.
The evening air softly caressed me as I got out of the cab and strode into the club. Bouncers paying no attention to me.
The night passed on like any other, with loud electronic music, flashing lights and gyrating bodies caught in the rhythm of
pleasure. I sat at the bar, watching everyone dance.
"Do you mind if I get you a drink, pretty little thing?" A man suddenly asked me. My eyes had been darting around the
place, searching diligently, waiting to catch those dark eyes.
"Oh, no. Thank you. I'm actually waiting for someone," I replied to him politely. This was a regular routine with men
who come to the club and it was slowly starting to tire me out.
"Well then, maybe I can keep you company until this person comes along," the man said, already taking the seat next to
me. I could tell he was the type who wouldn't take no for an answer. The worst kind to bump into at this place.
His type and Jeremy, I shuddered at the thought at meeting the asshole here.
"So, what's your name?" The man asked as he bobbed his head to the music.
"What?” I asked, hoping to delay the conversation as much as possible in whatever way I could. The idea was to bore
him out and cause him to lose interest.
"Your name, love? What is your name?" He drew closer.
Oh God.
"It's—" My eyes immediately caught Akira shuffling his way through the crowd and I instantly shrank into the bar. I
couldn't let him see me.
"It's Audrey," I answered the man, lowering my voice out of a ridiculous fear that I would somehow be heard by Akira.
"Oh, Audrey? What a beautiful name for a beautiful creature such as yourself," the man grinned and placed his hand on
my thigh.
This one wants to die, my mind instinctively blurted. I returned the smile and politely took his hand off.
"Thank you," I said. The music pulsed through the room. I looked around and fortunately, Akira was nowhere to be
found. The man was about to say something else when my eyes caught something else. I finally found Ivan making his way
through the crowd and heading out of the club.
I actually can’t believe this is happening! This is it! This is my chance! I left before the man could really react and
went to find Ivan.
Okay Audrey, you can do this!
"Audrey? It's you, right?" Akira held my arm.
No, not now. Not now, Akira.
"I didn't think I would see you here," Akira said, "Well, I sort of suspected after our call, but..." His voice faded into the
distance as I realized Ivan had left the club and my window of opportunity was quickly shrinking.
"Akira, I'm really sorry but I have to go, like right now," I rushed out to find him nowhere in sight. The night was
unusually still and empty as though it foreshadowed some horrible tragedy. I sighed in disappointment. He had been there, right
before me, how did he manage to disappear so fast.
Discouraged, I decided to go back home and drop this ludicrous mission. Big decisions are awaiting and starting
tomorrow, I better be ready for them. I circled around an empty police car parked in front of an alley and when I looked around
I gasped sharply. What chilled me to the bone wasn't the car but the scene I was witnessing.
Ivan was standing there, partially shrouded in the darkness, with his back turned to me and his head fixed downwards.
He was staring down at what lay beneath him. On the floor was the corpse of a man, his body still bleeding. Ivan's tall figure
stood motionless with a gun in his hand.
My heart rate had slowed down to a crawl, lulled by the terror in me.
Gently, okay? You have to move slowly. Whatever you do, don't make a sound. Don't make a single sound, I repeated
to myself and held my breath. I began to step back when I hit the hood of the car and, with a catlike swiftness, Ivan immediately
spun around and pointed the gun at me.
What the hell?! This isn’t happening.
He narrowed his eyes and I could see shock in his expression as he stepped closer.
"Audrey?"
 Chapter 8 - Ivan
The time had finally come.
The target was the Bianchi headquarters situated on N Street. As was his specialty, Anton had stalked and studied
everyone associated with the Bianchi family, all its active capos as well as their movements and preferences. The plan was a
swift attack on the place, with the aim of dealing as much damage as possible in one fell swoop. All exit points would be
sealed off and the chief targets would be the top figures of the family, especially the don. Everything was to proceed like
clockwork.
Nothing, however, could’ve prepared me for what happened in the end.
"You'll be taking point on the battlefield, my dear Anton," I told him after I took him aside, "Unfortunately, I have a
senator to meet with this night at the Sinner's Paradise but once I'm done, I'll join you guys."
"No problem, boss," he bowed.
"Just try not to die out there, old man," I teased him.
"If I go down, who'd be here to watch after you?" He smirked.
"Fine. I will never again insinuate you’re too old for this shit.” I smiled.
"In any case, is everything in place?” I asked even though I knew Anton had it all handled.
“Yes, boss.”
“Good. See you soon.” With that, the plan was in motion.
I drove to the club on my own. My meeting with senator James Ford was going to be a very brief one. In and out, that
was the plan.
Of all the times to set up a meeting, I groaned. Ford did say it was something urgent and for his sake, it better was. I
tightened my grip on the steering wheel and raced through the road. Anton reported live to me, informing me that all the cars
had covered the various vital points of the building. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and they were now awaiting my
orders.
"Just hold your positions," I instructed as I pulled over next to the Sinner's Paradise.
"Yes, Boss," Anton's deep voice replied.
I quickly moved through the crowd and headed for the VIP section. My eyes drifted to the bar and the memory of the
beautiful girl I had met there resurfaced. A powerful nostalgia took hold of me as her image formed before me and the soft
touch of her skin glided over mine like that of a ghost. The bar was however empty this night.
Way to go there, old sport. What's next for us? Poetry? I scoffed at myself. I craved a smoke and it became a necessity
for me to leave this place as fast as possible.
Begin the attack, I texted Anton.
Confirmed, Anton immediately replied.
"Ah, Mr. Zolotov," the stout and slightly obese politician immediately rose on seeing me. He was sweating and his
manners were overly nervous.
"Speak, Ford, and for your sake, you better have not wasted my time," I glared at him, ignoring his greetings and
handshake.
The man gulped and wiped the beads of sweat off his forehead. "T-The thing is..." He began, his voice irritatingly shaky
as he spoke
"For Christ’s sake, speak, Senator!" I roared, my patience rapidly wearing thin.
"The budget! It's the budget! Detective Lopez is looking into it and he found some dirt on me," Senator Ford
whimpered.
I paused and widened my eyes. The detective was becoming more and more impossible to tolerate as the days
progressed. I towered over the senator and asked, "What exactly does he have?"
The meeting was over a few minutes later and I wasted no time leaving the club. I still had an operation to take care of.
I felt the urge to turn and check the bar one more time before leaving but I fought against it since I knew she wouldn't be there.
Audrey didn't feel like the type who would frequent clubs.
And what the hell do you know about her, huh? You fuck her one time and all of a sudden, you're an expert, is that
it? I chuckled as I pulled out a cigarette and sauntered to my car.
The night was chilly and silent, and there was a police car parked before mine. My hair stood up, a sense of alertness
seizing me. I gripped the handle of the gun tucked away in my vest and looked around but found no one in sight. It was probably
just a normal cop making the rounds. Lighting my cigarette, I phoned Anton for updates.
"Boss! We've—We've been ambushed!" Anton said immediately he answered.
"Wait, what are you talking about?" I stopped and clutched the cigarette between my fingers.
"Fall back! Fall back, goddamnit!" Anton said to the men in the background before replying me, "It was the cops, Boss.
They were already—"
 "That's enough, Ivan," the sharp voice of Detective Lopez drew me from the call and I turned to find him pointing a gun
at me. "Don't think about reaching for the gun in your vest, Ivan."
I raised my arms in surrender. "What's the meaning of this, Lopez?" I asked calmly, "And why the hell is a weapon
pointed at me?" I tossed my cigarette and noted the silencer fixed onto the gun.
"It’s been waiting for this moment for years and thanks to a mutual acquaintance who doesn't really like you, I'm here
now. We're here now," he had the full expression of triumph plastered on his face.
A mutual acquaintance? The fuck?
"We are indeed, but you can't exactly arrest me, can you? I've done nothing wrong and you have nothing on me," I
exhaled, as I regarded the man with pity.
"Now that's where you're wrong," he grinned, "How did your meeting with the Senator go?"
Just as I suspected.
"So-so. He wanted my advice on some architectural project of his, sort of like a recommendation. You know I have
impeccable taste in such matters," I smirked, shrugging my shoulders.
"Very funny but I have your conversation with the Senator here on record," he pulled out his phone and played the last
part of the conversation out.
"You know, back in the days, you were always so bright. Now, you're just so sloppy it's downright disappointing," I
took out the wire he had worn on Ford from my sleeves and threw it on the ground.
"I already knew you were recording the convo, but I continued anyway. The Senator is alright, don't worry. Do you
want to know why?" My voice was tranquil. His face visibly changed as he realized his plan had already been seen through.
"Because just as you were trying to lure me into a trap, I was also trying to lure you into one," I declared and dropped
my hands down. He wasn't a threat to me and whatever Anton was dealing with at the site of the attack, I was certain he would
manage to get out of it without a scratch.
"Hands up, Ivan!" Lopez said.
"You can't legally shoot me, detective. My gun is registered and I haven't pulled it out. I've said it numerous times,
Lopez," I walked towards him, "Out of respect for Josephine, I'm not going to kill you or do anything like that. Just give me the
phone and go back home to sleep. We can forget any of this ever happened."
His eyes flared up and he cocked his gun at my face. There was a madness in his countenance that triggered a fight
mode in me, as I quickly noted that he was in an unstable state and could fire at any time. "Don't! Don't you dare say her name!
You don't deserve to—"
I grabbed and disarmed him, kicking the gun into the dark alley. He wiggled his way out and dove into the alley. I
followed behind and struggled with him, trying to incapacitate him before he could reach the gun. We grappled with each other
until both of us reached for the gun and before any of us could react, the muffled sound of a gunshot quietly ripped through the
air. Lopez was staring at me in shock before he slowly looked down to find his stomach bleeding from his bullet wound.
"You really are the angel of death," the detective snickered before falling to the ground.
"Liam," I said, still in shock from the accident. He was already gone. I stood up, the gun in hand, and looked at his body
with a feeling of guilt and dread. Fate had a cruel way of toying with us.
Why didn't you just listen to me, Liam? Why'd you have to go on this personal mission of revenge? Even after I had
sworn not to harm you. My stomach churned in disgust.
I heard something bumped against the hood of a car and I speedily turned to see a girl standing there.
Of course. Why am I not surprised?
As I squinted and moved closer, I saw the familiar beautiful face that had always persisted in my mind.
"Audrey?" I asked shell-shocked. "What are you—"
"I didn't see anything, I promise," she cut me off, her voice trembling as she spoke. She was creeping back slowly.
"Don't move," I ordered her but her body kept pulling backwards, almost automatically.
The fuck is wrong with her? Why is she still moving?
"I said stop moving, damnit," I repeated, this time more serious. "Fancy meeting you here though. Well, not here here
but—you know what I mean," I tried to lighten the mood and buy some time until I figure out how to salvage this. She made no
reply. Her eyes moved from the gun to the corpse of Lopez and back to the gun again.
Sighing, I walked closer to her and put the gun behind me, "I mean you no harm, okay?"
She immediately darted away.
Of course, I sighed again and ran after her. Before she could cover any real distance or cry out for help, I caught up to
her and pinned her to the ground.
"Please, please, don't hurt me. I'm pregnant," she blurted as she squirmed underneath me.
Well, that's an interesting turn of events. A part of me was stung by the news, almost jealous even.
"Oh, I see… Well, congratulations. I am sure you and the--" I said to her.
She took a large gulp and continued, "And... It's your child."
I'm sorry, what?
 Chapter 9 - Audrey
First I heard a light buzz, waxing and waning in frequency.
I couldn’t quite figure out if the hum was electrical in origin or if it was from something entirely different. The next
sensation that succeeded—or better yet, intruded into my oscitant mind—was the sound of constant dripping of water a
distance away from me. This sound had regularity, both periodically and in its intensity.
Slowly, my mind awoke from the daze and I opened my eyes to find myself in a dark room. I could barely make out
what was in front of me as everything had been consumed by the darkness.
A sharp throbbing headache emerged ever so slowly the more I came to, further confounding my already disoriented
mind. The air was humid and I could feel that I was sitting on dirt. It wasn’t until I tried to move that I realized the fetters
clasped firmly on my wrists. The strangeness of the entire experience must have numbed my arms to the cold feel of the chains.
“What the—?” I struggled helplessly for a minute with the chains. The rattling noise now engulfed the room, displacing
the sounds of buzzing and dripping that had taken on a more oppressive quality.
“Help,” I managed to say. “Somebody, help me!”
Nothing. My voice simply echoed within the vast room. My vision, now accustomed to the gloomy darkness, started to
trace out outlines of the area in which I was trapped.
From what I could see, the room was old and mostly bare, with a nauseatingly moldy smell filling the air. It had the
aura of a dungeon or dark cellar.
To my left, I could faintly make out a tap whose mouth was leaking drops of water into a puddle beneath it. The image
evoked a thirst in me.
I searched around but still couldn’t locate the source of the buzzing. All of a sudden, the thoughts of all the horrors that
might have been carried out here took form in my mind and I began to grow frantic.
Far ahead was a staircase whose steps must’ve led up to some higher level of the building.
“Help! Somebody! Anybody!” I immediately cried out, hoping that someone would hear me. “Can anybody hear me?
Please!”
Wait, what if the person who hears me turns out to be the same person who imprisoned me here?
My heart palpitated wildly as I realized I hadn’t thought about why I would’ve been kidnapped and kept here. I had, at
first, only been grappling with the grim environment I had awakened to, trying to ascertain where I was and the state of my
body. Now that I had accomplished that to some degree, I tried to look back into my mind and recall what series of
circumstances I had found myself in that could’ve ultimately led to this fate.
I drew in a sharp gasp and my body froze in fear as the memory of my encounter with Ivan Zolotov was evoked. The
image of him standing over the body of that man sent shivers down my spine. What happened after I told him was pregnant with
his child was somehow still a blur to me. I curled myself into a ball, praying that this was all just a dream. It had to be a dream,
or some terrible prank, maybe?
I imagined a half-drunk Claire bursting into the room any minute and laughing at my expression, as Ben would follow
closely behind with a camera in hand, filming every second of it. He would have a look of sympathy on his face as he felt
terrible for the cruel prank Claire had concocted, but would nevertheless remain loyal to her. He often told himself that it was
his way of keeping her wild energy in check and preventing her from spiraling into self-destruction, but a lot of us wondered if
the reverse wasn’t the case.
Finally, Charlotte would descend from the stairs, her hair still packed in a messy bun as her eyes would gaze leisurely
at me. I thought about the smile she would give as she made a snarky comment on her newfound fascination with bondage
roleplay, perhaps as something she picked up from the Japanese and classic French erotic novels I had recommended to her
over the years. Then finally she would unlock the manacles and give me a long hug, apologizing for it all.
I sat in silence, imagining variations of this sequence, replaying them in my head constantly with the hope that if I did it
long and hard enough, it would come true.
By degrees, it dawned on me that here in this dim room, I could hardly make out what day it was. Was it morning? Was
it night? I couldn’t tell. All I could do was wait and pray that nothing bad would happen to me.
I rocked back and forth in a drunken state until, nearly lulled to sleep, I heard a thick metal door screech open.
Footsteps, uncomfortably slow and calculated in pace, began descending the quiet stairs as the silhouette of a tall man
leisurely came into view. He stopped just in front of the steps and fixed his sight on me. Under the scant light, the dark figure
appeared like a phantom peering into my soul. My body cooled to ice and my breath failed me.
He moved toward me, his gait as unhurried as ever, until he halted before me and at last his mature, slightly bearded
face appeared in the hazy glow of the room. Before me, with an expression of undisguised rage and cold glaring eyes, was the
man I had seen murder a man, the man I had lost my virginity to some weeks ago, and the same man whose child I was now
carrying.
Before me was Ivan Zolotov.
 I gasped and woke up, panting wildly as I felt around my wrists to find them free from chains.
It was all just a dream after all, I laughed in relief. The sound of birds chirping in the distance alerted me to my new
surroundings. I was in a large bedroom lying on a king-sized bed wrapped in silk sheets. The beauty and decor of the room
drew my breath away and I froze to admire the place. It was a setting I had only seen in movies or read in novels.
A dazzling chandelier hung from the ceiling and several candelabra bulbs lined the walls, illuminating the room. There
was a large vanity fixed to one side of the room and a huge wide mirror that stood above it. Layers of damask curtains covered
the great windows and the fragrance of vanilla, coconut, peonies, and some other scent I couldn’t quite identify pervaded the
room. It had an instant calming effect. At the end of the room was a peach-colored leather armchair.
"So, you're finally awake, huh?" Ivan said. I turned to find him standing by the bathroom door. I gasped sharply and
shrank in fear.
He arched his eyebrow in a smirk and scoffed. He walked and sat in the armchair with his legs crossed.
"What’s all this about you being pregnant?" He pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a luxurious golden lighter, "Start at
the top."
"I-I did—Well, I'm—" my breath abandoned me as all I could see was a cold killer.
I clasped my hands firmly, struggling to calm their trembling. "I'm pregnant and it's yours," I finally said.
"And how are you so sure it's mine?" He grimaced, "It could've been someone else's."
"T-That's not possible," I said. He immediately spun my chair to face him and his chiseled face was staring directly at
mine.
"And why is that, huh?"
"Because I hadn't slept with anyone else before or after you that night... Like ever," I revealed at last. A wave of
embarrassment barraging me.
He took a step back and chuckled to himself, "For some reason, I'm not even surprised by that fact. That explains the
tightness. So, what is it you want now?"
"What?"
"Is it money to get an abortion? You here to blackmail me into getting cash perhaps? Well, what is it?" He glared at me.
"No, I—"
I couldn't speak. Tears began to form around the corners of my eyes, but I fought against shedding them, terrified of how
he would react. What is that I wanted from him?
Ivan took a deep breath and got another cigarette. Not now. Not that horrid smoke.
"So, what do you want now, Audrey?" He asked after taking a long puff.
I steeled my nerves and looked him straight in the eyes, "I plan on keeping the baby and I wanted to tell you, in case you
wanted to be a part of the child's life."
There was a pause in the air, as though time had frozen. Ivan stood there paralyzed in silence for a moment. My heart
raced as the courage I had just mustered rapidly dissipated.
Then, without warning, Ivan began to chuckle.
“You’re full of surprises. After tonight’s events, I never would’ve thought you had a fighter in you," he cocked his head
and closed the distance to hold my chin gently and peer into my eyes. His finger smelled of cigarette and his face so close to
mine it left me slightly dazed.
"Yes, you're quite serious about that. I can see that. Very well then, you and I will be getting married a month or two
from now." He stated.
Um, what? "What?" I said as much.
He said nothing, simply going for a glass of red wine at the other end of the table.
"Well, I accept your proposal. I'll not only be a part of the child's life but you both will be part of mine. Hope you're
ready," he grinned, "Because in a few months from now, you'll no longer be Audrey Sanders but Mrs. Zolotov."
 Chapter 10 - Ivan
If somebody had told me a week ago this would be happening to me, I would’ve had a great laugh. I kept reliving the
events of that night.
She was so terrified beneath me that I could taste the fear. I got up from her and pointed the gun at her.
"Get up and get into my car," I unlocked my black Mercedes Benz and led her into it.
"When I got in, gun still pointed at her, I swiftly took out a syringe and injected its content into her. It was a safe dose of
midazolam meant to knock her out. She winced and fell asleep the next second. I exhaled in relief, trying to make sense of the
madness of the night. I dropped the gun next to me; its safety had been on the entire time. The first thing I had to attend to was
the Bianchi business.
"Anton, what's the update?" I called him.
"We've successfully retreated. Damage was kept to a minimum."
I knew I could count on you, old man.
"In that case," I said, "Meet me at Sinner's Paradise now."
"Yes, Boss," his deep voice responded and I hung up the phone. This night was one of the most chaotic and random
nights I had ever experienced. Lying ahead was detective Lopez and unconscious in my car was Audrey, who apparently was
pregnant with my child, as crazy as that sounded. I took out the detective's phone I had swiped from his body after the accident
and inspected it carefully. It was too risky to take it anywhere near my home or any of the headquarters.
I pulled out a burner laptop and unlocked his phone. I accessed all its contents and erased the recording as well as
anything else that could've implicated me. Not that any of it would've mattered since I already had sleeper agents among the
police force that would destroy any incriminating evidence brought into their station. Still, it was better to be safe.
I tossed the phone under the tire of the car as Anton halted his car next to me.
"Boss," Anton said as we stood in front of the cars, "The Don wasn't there. None of the capos were there either. It was
like we had walked into a ghost house with only the low-level members present—" He paused when he noticed the body of the
detective in the dark alley.
"Unfortunately, that's how my night went," I shrugged and lit a cigarette, "And you know how much I never wanted to
touch him."
"I do, man. You were quite adamant about that."
"Well, that's all shit now," I offered a cigarette but he humbly declined. I could understand. His mind was still busy
trying to process the various events that had taken place that night.
"Anyways, that's where you come in. I want you to take care of his body. Make it like an accident or something, you
know. Far away from here," I said.
"Of course, Boss. You know you can count on me," he bowed.
"I know I can. Meanwhile, I have another issue to deal with," I snickered and pointed at Audrey sleeping in the car.
"Who is—"
"The mother of my child apparently," I cut him off. He looked at me puzzled, as though I had spoken in some foreign
language.
I exhaled a thick column of smoke before I stumped the cigarette out.
"Just finish with the detective and meet me at the compound," I got into the car. The tires of my car crushed the phone
underneath it as I drove off to my home. Vlad was definitely going to have a field day. Every now and then during the journey, I
glanced at the girl beside me. Her innocent face was a breath of fresh air, reminding me of the beauty that could still be found
in the world.
My compound stood remote close on the outskirts of the city. The lonely road that led to the beautifully crafted metal
gate of the compound was surrounded by tall rows of deciduous trees. My car curved into the compound and I drove through
the winding road to the entrance of my mansion.
I ordered the guards at the front door to carry Audrey into one of the guest rooms on the ground floor and lock her
inside. I was exhausted and I wasted no time sinking into my bed.
The night passed quickly and I found myself unable to sleep, alternating between pacing the room to smoking to lying
motionless on the bed, just staring at the ceiling. The cool-headedness I had managed to muster had swiftly been replaced by
extreme agitation.
Maybe it was the silence softly echoing throughout the rooms. Maybe it was the presence and close proximity of the
potential mother of my child locked in one of my rooms. Or could it have been the sense of defeat I felt knowing that, despite
my most meticulous preparations, the plan had still gone phenomenally sideways?
How did the police and the Bianchis learn of our plan? Who was this friend the detective had spoken of?
I finally sat down in the chaise lounge thin beam of sunlight spilled through the damask curtains as a rap on the door
sounded, first gentle, then gradually growing louder.
“Boss, forgive me but there’s a situation you should know about.” It was Anton. Just when I had managed to get some
shut-eye. Scratching my eyes, I donned a black velvet robe and unlocked the door.
He rushed in and began quickly. “Boss, the Bianchis are requesting a meeting.”
“What? Wait, slow down.” I slowly sat myself down and regarded him keenly. “What do you mean a meeting?”
“Don Giuseppe called for a meeting with you this morning.” Anton spoke slowly this time.
What could that snake have in mind?
I hear the voice of my father in my head saying, “Listen to me, Ivan. There are few men as cunning as that Italian bastard
Giuseppe Bianchi. He and I, along with the Triad boss Lee Xing, go way back. Never trust what he has to say. I just hope you
never have to deal with the Bianchis or Xing’s Triad.”
And for years we never did encounter them. Then our family met Lee Xing during our time in Los Angeles, and it was a
struggle before my father and I finally took him out. I had thought I had nothing else to worry about. That was, until I set up shop
in Philadelphia.
“Prep the car then. Looks like we’re going for a ride,” I snickered. “And get Diego for me.” Anton bowed and left. I
washed my face, combed my hair and slicked it back with pomade, and threw on a black coat.
“Come in,” I said to the person knocking on the door.
“Boss,” Diego said humbly, his head bent low.
“Follow me,” I told him coldly, and took him down to the door of the locked room. “Now, you’re to stay here and look
after this door, do I make myself clear?” He nodded without delay.
“Good. Do not go in, and do not let anyone in or out except me. I’ll be back later,” I instructed him, and left for the
park, the neutral point where the meeting was to take place.
The car rounded the gate and in a moment, streamed into the busy streets of the city. We got to the park to find old man
Giuseppe seated on a bench, already drinking a cup of coffee. A guard stood behind him and several more blended in with the
rest of the crowd.
“You younger generation and your aversion to punctuality,” Giuseppe laughed, his thick Italian accent accentuating the
wisdom often attributed to the words of the old. Giuseppe wore a large plain brown shirt and cargo pants, with a creamy
fedora next to him and his cane placed between his legs. His wrinkled skin was a tanned olive and his thin figure, a shadow of
his glory years, looked like it would be swept away by any breeze. The mole beneath his left eye remained unchanged.
“Yesterday, you made an attempt on my life,” he continued, after I looked around and finally sat down at the end of the
bench. Anton and the rest of my men stood by my side, their eyes alert for any sign of trouble.
I had set up snipers around the place, but I am sure he had done the same. In this space, no action was the ideal action.
Civilians, mostly families, were out in the open. Neither of us was going to do anything stupid, not out here in the open.
“I must admit, I didn’t believe it. It was a really close one, I’ll give you that, but fortunately, a friend reached out to
me,” Giuseppe’s laugh broke into a fit of coughing.
There it was again, this mysterious friend. Who exactly was it?
“Sorry about that," he wiped his mouth. "Anyway, I personally find all this fighting pointless. So, I’m suggesting a
cease-fire between both organizations and an equal division of the city of Philadelphia.”
I listened to him as he went on explaining his offer, embellishing it with the skill of a marketer. “Never trust what he has
to say.” My father’s words repeated themselves in my head, but for now, I had to take his offer—or at least, feign accepting it.
“Fine.” I leaned back and gave him a blank look. “I’ll think about your offer.”
His thin lips curved into a crooked, wrinkly smile as his small beady eyes stared at me with a piercing gaze, "Ivan
Zolotov, you know I saw you when you were just a baby. Back when your mother gave birth to you, your father and I were still
on friendly terms. I remember the joy in his eyes as he rejoiced in finally having an heir." Giuseppe turned his attention towards
the sky, looking at it as though the memory was replaying itself in the clouds.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've been watching you for a while now and you haven't made any moves towards
getting an heir for yourself. My son Mario just got his second boy a few months ago and you should've seen the smile on that
rugged face of his," Giuseppe chuckled. "Let me give you a friendly advice since I don't necessarily see you as an enemy owing
to my history with your father: get yourself an heir. You could knock up some young girl or something but just find yourself an
heir, because a Don without one is at risk of losing his power and empire the moment he dies, and trust me, death is always
around the corner. Though from what I've seen, it's always best the child is legitimate, born from a woman you've married. That
often prevents the quarrels of legitimacy."
Then, with his cane in hand, he slowly rose and added, “Think, but don’t think for too long. In matters like these, time is
always of the essence.” With that, he was gone.
His words had touched me and I wondered if he was a sage or it was just something a person became the moment they
grew old. I leaned back on the bench and fixed my eyes on the cloud the same way he had done, hoping to glean some insight
from the morphing clouds. Maybe Audrey arriving with the pregnancy was actually a blessing in disguise, especially since
worries had begun to circulate around the high levels of the Bratva. I had initially regarded the pregnancy as an unwelcome
nuisance but I could use it to my advantage to consolidate my power. It was funny. My mind was hardly on the issue of
Giuseppe's offer. I thought about Audrey instead and her small round face smiling at me. I could hardly believe I was going to
be a father. It all felt surreal to me. The thought had never crossed my mind since Josephine passed away, but yet here it was.
Inititally, I thought it was the worst time possible, but maybe she and the baby came at just the right time.
Could I even be a good father? The question crept up by degrees, and doubt was the only answer I could give.
"I'm going to need you to do something for me, Anton," I said, "I need to get back."
Yes, get back to my soon-to-be bride, I smirked.
 Chapter 11 - Ivan
I stood by the vanity in Audrey's room, watching her sleep. I soon learned that observing her often helped to calm me
down. Her image was a kind of therapeutic balm that soothed my mind. Eventually, I took to watching her secretly, and the best
time was when she was asleep. Her vulnerability acted as an anchor to the outside world, to the fragile beauty of the world on
the surface. My underground world was an incredibly dark and deep one; it was an abyss easy to enter but almost impossible
to leave. Even the maids in my compound now had a shade of darkness on them—one could clearly see it in their eyes—after
spending this much time with me and my family. It was a diffusion of darkness.
Whatever you do, don't let her know about the Bratva. Keep her out of this, I swore to myself. My skin itched for a
cigarette and my fingers trembled. This was another effect of close proximity to Audrey. I couldn't smoke though. I had
discerned that she wasn't fond of the smell, so I did my best not to smoke in front of her. It was a fierce battle between quelling
my anxious mind and satisfying the silent wishes of the other. No greater conflict ever existed.
The sound of heavy yet quick footsteps pulled me out of my ponderings. While men slept, Anton was always at work.
"Boss," he whispered. The dark circles surrounding his eyes revealed his sleep-deprived routines. It wasn't that I
worked him to the bone but that he insisted on constantly working. I supposed it was his way of distracting himself from the
dark memories of his childhood before he joined the family, and no matter how close we were, that was something he wouldn't
open up about.
"What'd you find?" I asked as I was closing the door of the room Audrey was peacefully sleeping in.
"Audrey Sanders," he proceeded with the report I had requested, "That's the name of the girl.
"She recently broke off an engagement with her fiancé Jeremy Smith, and lost her job at the same man’s father’s
company as a result. She lived alone, without any particular family. She had been through many foster homes despite her
reportedly good behavior. She’d graduated from a local university in the city and her only friends were Charlotte Harvey and
Claire Goldwater. She had no other real contact with anyone else. She also seems to have a thing for books, particularly
Japanese novels."
Anton, as swift as ever, had found this much within the span of a few hours. I started to understand what kind of a
person she was.
"Well, time to get myself a wife," I slapped my lap and sprang up.
"I'm sorry, what?" Anton's surprise was hilarious to me.
"You heard me, old man. Congratulations are in order.” I chuckled. We’d hug it out once the shock wore off.
“Come on, now. Help me get her things,” I added.
Soon after, while driving to Audrey’s apartment, my guard--who also happens to be the only person I could call a real
friend—finally spoke.
"The girl, Audrey?” Anton asked suddenly.
“What about her?" My heart skipped a beat. I had slipped up in my response. I caught the smile formed at the corner of
Anton's lips.
"What are you going to do about her?"
"Oh, I'm marrying her," I said squarely.
Anton swerved the car slightly before catching himself again.
"What the fuck, Anton?"
"Sorry! It's just—I was convinced it’s one of your games. I didn’t think you were serious. Forgive me, my mistake,"
Anton apologized.
"That's cute, Anton, but I'm serious," I smirked.
"Wow, I never thought this day would come, especially after—oh, I'm sorry," Anton cursed himself.
"That's alright, old man," I said. I didn't want to think about her either. We rode in silence until we arrived at the
destination—an apartment building at the heart of the city.
"Here's the apartment number as well as the keys,” Anton passed a piece of paper to me.
"Stay here, okay?" I instructed and got into the building, weaving my way through the long corridors and elevators. At
last, I stood before the door. I unlocked the door and my hand tightened around the doorknob.
I'm nervous. Why am I nervous? I guessed it was because I was slightly scared of finding out who she really was. In
the end, I entered the door and entered her apartment.
So this is where she lives, I mused.
Lived, I corrected myself. Her home was now with me.
The place was simple for a woman her age, with only a small picturesque painting—a cabin bordered by the woods
with a mountain in the distance—adorning the beige walls of her living room. I moved around the place, studying it for traces
of her interests and the kind of person she was. The thought of family life intruded once more, and a newfound sense of
determination settled within me.
Her living room was a reflection of her personality—warm and inviting. The coffee table was strewn with books,
showcasing her intellectual side. Books filled a major portion of her apartment, I noted. Her room especially had piles of
novels stacked neatly on top of each other. The photographs of Audrey and her friends sat on a table in her room and she had a
genuine smile on her face.
She didn't have much. No unnecessary luxury items or furniture. I imagined she must've spent a large portion of what
she used to earn on books. I wanted to see the place alone before the men came in. I wanted to understand her.
“Hey, Anton,” I called my ever-ready friend.
“Yes, boss.”
“Send Daniel and his boys over. Let's clear out the place.”
"Immediately, Boss." I hung up. I sank into her couch and lit a cigarette. My eyes wandered around the room until it
finally fell on the painting of the cabin. As I contemplated the painting, Daniel and his team finally arrived and I told them what
to do, along with the way to pack and arrange everything.
"Make sure you handle every single thing here, especially the books, with care."
"Yes, Boss," they all roared. I strode outside, looked around the quaint neighborhood Audrey had situated herself in,
and then got into the car.

***
Back home, she was still asleep. Apart from getting knocked out, she must’ve been exhausted if she was still asleep. I
sat there for a while and just admired her beauty. After the visit to her apartment, I felt I got to know her a tiny bit and I am even
more attracted to her now. It was quite overwhelming. I wanted to smoke badly to drown the tension that coursed through me.
Instead, I got into the bathroom and washed my face. I left the door ajar in case she stirred from her sleep. I watched my
face in the mirror and for a second, the cruel face of my father flashed before my eyes. I wasn't going to end like him, was I?
I heard a sharp gasp come from the bedroom and I could tell right away she was up.
At fucking last. It was time to put up a grand act. I wasn't just going to make her a wife, I was determined to make her a
lover, to make her fall in love with me. The game was on.
"Well, Audrey, these are all your things from your apartment," I told her coolly, "Since you'll be living here now, there's
no need for your things to be back there, wouldn't you agree?" I uncrossed my arms and leaned forward.
"I-I think you're taking things too fast," she spoke up.
Is she breaking out of her shell?
"First, you kidnap me, then you tell me I have to marry you, and now you broke into my apartment and cleared out my
things. I never said I wanted any of this," her innocent brown eyes finally met mine. Only this time, there was a subtle hint of
defiance, a growing fierce spirit.
I sauntered toward her and brushed her hair with my hand before cupping her face gently and drawing in close for a
kiss. I paused before our lips met—then walked away with a sly smile on my face. Audrey, however, remained transfixed in
confusion. From her expression, I suddenly realized there was something pleasurable in teasing her, a dark joy, especially
coupled with the untainted aura she had about her.
I grabbed her left hand and before she could react, I slipped a diamond engagement ring on her finger.
 Chapter 12 - Audrey
I held my left hand up to the ceiling. For the love of me, I couldn’t wrap my head around everything that happened from
the moment I left that club.
I had a diamond glittering brilliantly on my finger. I remembered a show I had seen when I was in college—Claire was
actually the one who made me see it since I always kept to books and never watched movies—and the protagonist knelt down
and proposed to the girl on an exotic island. The ring had been a diamond ring and back then, I had scoffed at the idea,
wondering what it was that made any particular ring special. Now with this ring on my finger, I could see why it entranced
people. I knew I sounded superficial, but I could feel it as well. Besides, my emotions were all over the place, so I allowed
myself this moment.
Obviously, Ivan wasn't one for romantic settings like the protagonist of that movie. He decided we were getting married
and the next thing I knew, I had this beauty on my finger. It was Machiavellian. Just like Ivan is, apparently.
I didn’t get a chance to stop and think, plot my next move before I found myself in yet another whim of Ivan’s.
There was a knock on the day and I opened to see the head maid of the house there.
“Ma’am,” the elderly woman addressed me. Her accent was peculiar; it was the first time I had heard it. With the
calculated way she spoke and the general air around her, she seemed almost mechanical and it was unsettling.
“The master would like to see you in the living room,” the woman continued, giving a faux smile as she spoke. She
looked at the silk nightgown I was still wearing with a disapproval commonly found among adults who observe the behaviors
of youths with contempt.
What's her problem? I always hated people looking down on others. Jeremy often did that when we were together, and
I had convinced myself that I would change him, until, of course, I eavesdropped on a conversation he was having with his
friends about me. Unfortunately, I had no power here, so I had to swallow my anger.
Besides, would I even win against her? I looked at the woman who had a face like it had seen hell itself. In fact,
everyone here had that face. Guards, Katarzyna, the rest of the maids, especially Ivan and that guy Anton. They all were a part
of something very dark, but I still couldn’t make the whole picture.
"Let me just change up then," I snapped back to reality and told the woman.
"He wants to see you now," she countered harshly.
"Okay, fine," I closed the door behind me and followed her to the living room.
"Here she is, as requested, Boss," Katarzyna bowed to Ivan. Ivan was seated on the leather couch, his back turned to
me. In front of him were all the guards and maids of the compound, standing straight like machines awaiting orders. Katarzyna
fixed herself in front of the crowd and immediately morphed into the inanimate form all of them assumed.
"Ah, Audrey darling. Come sit here," he gestured for the spot next to him on the couch and I slowly sat. I felt uneasy as
all the eyes rested on me. I could feel their stares like sharpened blades against my skin especially when Ivan had called me
"darling." Yet, I liked it. Jesus, what was happening to me?
He held my hand and addressed them, "Now, I'm sure you all have been seeing her here for close to a week and you're
probably curious. Well, gossip no longer. This is Audrey and in less than two months from now, she is to be my wife and the
head of this compound."
Throughout his speech, he kept a cold unchanging expression, almost like he was a machine as well. He showed them
the engagement ring on his hand and motioned for me to show mine.
"So you are to listen to her, obey her orders and treat her with full respect. Any insult whatsoever will not be tolerated,
because I'll personally see it as an insult against me." I glanced at Katarzyna who took a gulp and avoided making eye contact
with me. Ivan leaned forward and steepled his fingers, "Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Boss!" They all echoed.
"Dismissed." And the hive dispersed to take their positions in their respective posts, carrying out their duties with
mechanical efficiency. When we were alone, Ivan turned to me, his face now bright with a mischievous smile.
"Well, how did you sleep last night?" He drew closer to me. He had his signature fresh woody scent. There was no
trace of cigarette smell on him.
"It was good," I forced a smile.
His hands moved from my hand to my thigh and I inhaled sharply. His touch was a familiar one, rough and pleasurable.
He came closer by degrees and although I tried to pull away, the magnetism of his presence held me in place. The sensations
from the night at the club, the rapture I had experienced of feeling his lips against mine resurfaced with a vengeance. But just as
quickly as he had taken on the seductive personality, he switched and stood up suddenly. It was probably for the best since I
really needed to get a hold on my emotions before anything else happened.
"What's your favorite meal?" He asked me. I was breathless and slightly taken aback by the random question.
"I'm sorry, what?"
His eyes traced the curves on my desire, subtly revealing the strong desire he held. I felt conflicted the more I thought
about his conflicting nature. He was playing with me, teasing me as he pleased and I could feel my patience reaching its
breaking point.
But wait, does that mean I want him? No, that couldn't be.
"Your favorite meal, what is it?" He asked again as he fiddled with his lighter.
"I don't have one," I answered him.
He scoffed, "Nonsense. Everyone has one, some meal that comforts them or reminds them of a certain moment of peace
and joy in their lives."
There was a manner in which he said it that piqued my interest and I immediately wanted to know about him.
"And what's yours then?" I asked. He paused and chuckled lightly.
"I asked you first, Audrey," he lit the lighter.
"And I answered. I told you I don't have any, so it's your turn to answer," I replied firmly.
I noticed he was hesitant in responding, so I continued while I still had a chance.
"Well? What is it?" I leaned forward.
He sighed and conceded, "Croque-monsieur."
"What?"
"Croque-monsieur, it's a French sandwich with—"
"I know what it is. I'm just—I'm just wondering why."
"Now, now, Audrey," he clicked his tongue, "You're judging. It reminds me of my childhood. Back then when my father
would punish me—and I was punished a lot since I always covered for my siblings—Anton, my brother Mikhail or my sister
Vanya would sneak slices of croque-messieurs that they had hidden and made. My sister just got accepted into cooking school
and she was trying to build her skills, so that was what she had started out with. Anyway, every time I was locked away in my
room and denied food for the day, the three of them would somehow sneak it in."
Just what kind of a home did he grow up in? I had assumed that he was just another rich spoiled kid like Jeremy who
lived the sheltered, pampered life but hearing his story made me realize there was more to him that I didn't know. And he had
siblings? I couldn't have guessed that. I felt he was an only child, with wealth passed down straight to him. The thought of
numerous Ivans in the room caused me to shiver.
"Wow, that's, umm, quite a story," I exhaled.
"Yes. Now I've shared, so it's your turn to share," he turned his lighter on again.
He just never gives up.
"Fine, but don't laugh or anything," the conversation had opened me up and became more free around him, "It's the
McDonald's egg bacon biscuit sandwich."
"Oh my—what?" He laughed and it was a bit blinding.
"And you were judging me for having a sandwich as a favorite meal?" He continued.
I blushed, "Yeah, yeah, I know it's ridiculous."
"Nah, not at all. It's alright. Kinda glad we both share sandwiches as our favorite meals. And what's your story?" He
switched off the lighter and leaned against the wall to listen to me. He had his full attention on me and my heart raced under the
pressure.
"Well... When I was at the orphanage and whenever I moved from one foster home to the next, between transfer, where I
still had to return to the orphanage for a while, one of the sisters there often loved buying it. She and I were close, so she
would usually give me one every time she bought it. In time, it became sort of like a comfort food for me, reminding me of, you
know, the bond I formed there, and I don't know, maybe the bonds I would form later in the future. It's really open to
interpretation, really," I chattered.
"Well, I think you too have an interesting origin story for yours as well," Ivan smiled before he caught sight of one of the
maids, "Sonia!"
The young girl with her black hair tied into a neat ponytail quickly rushed to him and bowed, "Yes, Boss."
"Have Katarzyna prepare breakfast for Audrey and I."
From under her eyes, she cast a glance at me before asking, "And what will you both be having this morning, Boss?"
"Croque-messieurs and egg bacon biscuit sandwiches a la McDonald's," Ivan said with a straight face.
"Y-Yes, Boss." The girl was about to leave when Ivan noted, "And tell Katarzyna to prepare the croque-messieurs the
way Vanya had taught her."
 Chapter 13 - Ivan
A few days later

"So, the police had been informed about the location of our warehouses that night as well?" I asked Anton, who was
driving the car.
"Yes, Boss. The cops on our payroll said someone had tipped off detective Lopez," Anton stepped on the gas. So my
suspicions were true. There was a rat in the organization.
"Okay. For now, let’s keep this information just between the two of us."
"Of course." Anton agreed.
"Anything from that snake Giuseppe?" I questioned.
"Not a word yet. The Bianchis are observing the ceasefire and laying low," Anton uttered. I still had time, but not for
long. It was crucial I found this rat before he caused any further damage to the organization.
"Also..." Anton interrupted.
"Also what, Anton?" I hesitated, exhaling deeply.
"Well, speak up Anton, for fuck's sake."
"Don’t shoot the messenger, but your sister, Lady Vanya, said she would like to see you one of these days preferably
today or tomorrow," Anton mumbled. Lady Vanya, I always hated that name. She had crowned herself that when we were
young and Anton, smitten with her, was the only one who ever called her that. In fact, I could wager he still had feelings for her.
I could see it in the way his shell peeled off when he was around her or when her name was mentioned. We had never talked
about it and it wasn’t really my place, so I never said anything.
“Anton, did you already run to my sister and told her about my engagement?” I knew he wasn’t the one, but I liked to
pull his leg since he was so weak when it came to my sister.
He just growled and I chuckled, “Well, somebody told her because we both know why she’s requesting to see me after
having talked to me the other day.”
“You’re in for a treat, my friend.” Anton read my thoughts.

***
Audrey was on the verge of crying or maybe screaming. At me.
"Well, Audrey, these are all your things from your apartment," I explained.
"Since you'll be living here now, there's no need for your things to be back there, wouldn't you agree?" I uncrossed my
arms and leaned forward.
"I-I think you're taking things too fast," she spoke up.
Yup, screaming it was. Was she breaking out of her shell?
"First, you kidnap me, then you tell me I have to marry you, and now you break into my apartment and clear out my
things. I never said I wanted any of this," her innocent brown eyes finally met mine. Only this time, there was defiance, a
growing fierce spirit. And I loved it.
I sauntered toward her and brushed her hair with my hand before cupping her face gently. She trembled. Got ya,
darling. I closed the remaining distance and pulled in close for a kiss. She gasped. I paused just before our lips met and then
walked away with a sly smile on my face. Audrey, however, remained transfixed in confusion. From her expression, I suddenly
realized there was something pleasurable in teasing her, a dark joy, especially coupled with the untainted aura she had about
her.
"How are you and the baby feeling, by the way?" I inquired.
She paused and touched her belly. She looked puzzled, like she didn't think I was that interested in the baby.
"We're doing fine," she cleared my throat.
"That's wonderful. And have you thought of a name yet?" The question came out of nowhere, but as I said it, I realized I
was curious.
"No. No, I haven't," she answered, "I mean, I don't know if it'll be a boy or girl."
"I say let's have numerous names ready," I suggested. It was the first time I got excited about the prospect of having a
child.
"Well, what names do you have in mind?" She wondered.
"Hmm. Well, there's Nikolai if it's a boy, and Irina if it's a girl," I offered.
"I was thinking of... Charles or Grace." She countered.
"You just made those up right now, didn't you?" I chuckled.
 "Yeah, the Grace name.” She admitted. “Charles, however, has always been a name I thought would be cool for any
male child of mine."
"Hmm, okay. Let's do this then. If it's a boy, we'll call him Charles and if it's a girl, we'll call her Irina. Deal?" I arched
his brow.
"Uuuh. Okay then. Why Irina though?"
"Irina was the name of my mother," I shrugged.
She nodded and got lost in thoughts perusing the boxes with her stuff.
“Well, I need to get going now, but please feel free to roam the house as you please. It’s your home now, too." I said
gently trying to make her see the bright side of this new arrangement.
She peered into my eyes, her look full of unreleased anger. Then, determination took place as she made her way
towards me. Before I could see through her intention, she attacked my mouth in a passionate kiss.
My entire body lit up and my dick jerked upward. I slid down one of my hands, grabbed her ass while and growled
wildly.
Without a warning, she cut off the kiss and smirked. "Two can play your game, Mr. Zolotov. Now, tell me this mansion
has a library somewhere.”
Still trying to catch my breath, I was unable to say anything. Touché, Audrey. There was a savage underneath that
innocence and I couldn’t wait for it to break free. I was looking forward to breaking Audrey’s walls. In the meantime, I hoped
my library did its part.
 Chapter 14 - Ivan
"Lovely weather we're having today, wouldn't you say?" The familiar authoritative voice said.
I turned to find my sister dressed in a black trench coat, large sunglasses and a colorful scarf tied around her head like
the actresses during the golden age of Hollywood. Her lips were bright red and her skin shone beautifully in the sun. I returned
to staring at the kids running around the playground.
"Are your kids here?" I asked as I took a large puff of smoke.
"Nah. They're currently at home. They're being watched by a nanny," Vanya took off her sunglasses, "Finding
trustworthy babysitters is really difficult when you're in our line of work, you know."
I snickered and took another drag, my eyes still fixed on the children. "You're not in this line of business, Vanya. Father
had made it very clear, so why am I here in this park?"
"My goodness, you don't have to remind me of my exclusion from the organization that is based on the simple fact that I
am a woman. Follow me," she was already heading towards the bench. I sighed and followed her. We still had a clear view of
the children from this new location and I just stood next to her.
"When I heard you wanted to meet up with me, I assumed it would be at your place. Why'd you bring me out here?" My
patience was growing thin by the second and I wasn't ready to play her lectures.
"What do you think about children?" Vanya asked softly.
"What?"
"Children, they're all just so fragile. It would be a simple thing to kidnap them or snap their necks and the like," her
eyes remained on the kids running around. She appeared like she was in some trance.
"That's terrifying coming from a mother of two," I threw the cigarette in a nearby trash can and pulled another one out.
"No, no. I'm just trying to show the extent of their vulnerability to the world. It's because of said vulnerability that
parents come into place. We take care of them and protect them from the world. One comes to find that they would rather bleed
than watch their child bleed," she eyed me as I lit the cigarette in my mouth, "You're still smoking those things after all these
years. You and Anton can't stop now. They'll be the death of you both."
"I seem to remember you had a phase," I countered.
"True."
"Why are we here, Vanya?" I exhaled in exhaustion.
"You really do have a glow around you. I see it now," Vanya ignored my question, "It's not that noticeable but it's there,
very subtle."
The fuck is she talking about?
"Vanya, I'm getting ti—"
"For fuck's sake, Ivan. I'm talking about your incoming child and your bride-to-be, and you know it!" she snapped,
hissing in annoyance.
"And don't you blame Anton," Vanya leaned back with a smug on her face and watched the children with a keen
curiosity, "He's only looking out for you. Sadly, that's all he ever does. I pity him really. You're his raison d'etre. Besides, I got
the information from the maid Katarzyna."
"I know Anton wouldn’t share something like this without my consent. Not even with you. Don’t go inquiring my staff
about my life, Vanya," I groaned.
"That's rubbish," Vanya replied swiftly, "Plus, it's not like I'm looking into the activities of the organization. Besides, I
am your sister—of course, I am poking my nose into your business."
"It’s for your own good," I warned.
"What do you know about my good? Anyway Ivan, I'm not here to quarrel. I'm just interested in who she is."
"An angel, Vanya. Now stay out of it," I tossed the cigarette into the trash can and began to walk away before she ran
after me.
"Wait, damnit. You haven't announced your engagement yet, right? I'm hosting a dinner party this week, inviting the top
figures of the city. Everyone and anyone will be there," she was panting as she spoke.
"And why are you just telling me about this now?" I glared at her furiously.
"Think about it. If I told you first, you would easily shoot down the idea, but if I invited everyone and gave them the
promise that you would be in attendance, then you would have to be there," she had a triumphant smirk on her face as she
crossed her arms and stared at me.
"Stay out of my business, Vanya!" I walked away.
"What I'm trying to say is that you can use my party as a platform to announce your engagement." I halted and gave her a
look of intrigue. She had my interest now.
"Where will the party be at?" I narrowed my eyes.
"At my house. Be there on Friday with Audrey. That's her name, right? Audrey," she said with a tone of inquisitiveness,
"What a pretty name. I can't wait to meet her. I can't wait to meet the one that finally captured my little brother's heart." She
muttered to herself as she walked away and got into her car parked a short distance from the playground.
As I drove into the compound and caught Audrey sitting on the steps in front of the mansion, I held my breath and the
world froze in place. The passage of time, I realized, seemed to slow to grinding halt when I was in close proximity to her.
Audrey was carrying my child, and as each day passed, I felt a deeper attraction for her, even deeper than I had anticipated.
Gradually, my paternal instincts grew stronger, intertwining with a peculiar yet potent emotion that I couldn’t put into words.
She was reading a book with religious devotion. Her hair was made into a messy bun and she wore a flowing flowery
dress.
"And what is it you're reading?" I beamed a smile as she returned one back.
"Hey, you're back. How did your meeting go?" She brushed the strand of her hair that danced before her face to the
side.
"It was alright. Exactly as I imagined it would be," I hid the gift behind me, making sure it couldn't be seen by her, "So...
What book is that?"
"Oh, it's a light novel called Classroom of the Elite. It has an anime adaptation but I decided to start with the novel first.
I think you should read it. You strike me as the type of person who would enjoy it," she eyed me with a peculiar look.
"I actually got you something," I told her.
"Oh, what is it?"
I handed her a rare edition of a novel by the Japanese detective fiction writer Edogawa Ranpo and the way her face lit
up brightened my spirit.
"Oh my, I actually had plans on getting this book. It's the one where Kobayashi is introduced. Thank you so much for
this," she got up and hugged me.
"You're welcome. By the way," I pulled her away gently, "You should get ready for Friday."
"Why? What's happening on Friday?" She inquired.
"My sister will be hosting a dinner party then," I began, "And I'll be announcing our engagement to the world there."
Her face fell down.

***
“You seem lost in thought, Ivan,” Vlad’s voice cut through the air, his hand landing heavily on my shoulder.
“I think you need to do something to relieve yourself from all the stress you're feeling. This Bianchi business is
annoying. It’s been a while since you’ve been to the clubs, right? Let’s go out tonight, get some girls and have fun. That should
lift your spirits up, like old times.” He dragged on.
His words hung in the air for a moment. A cigarette found its way into my hand—as usual—and I lit it, the ember
casting a dim glow in the otherwise dim room of the hotel. Memories of the wild nights I had once enjoyed in those clubs
drifted to the forefront of my mind. The reckless abandon, the pulsating music, the allure of temporary distractions—it had all
held a certain appeal back then.
The thought of indulging in the same hedonistic pursuits now felt empty, a shadow of the satisfaction they once
provided. My gaze settled on the glowing tip of the cigarette, a slow exhale carrying my thoughts away with the dissipating
smoke.
“I’m good, Vlad,” I replied, my tone dry despite the warmth of the room. “Maybe you should do it.”
His face registered complete surprise. It was as if my response had disrupted the script he had envisioned. In his eyes,
the answer seemed so straightforward—a night of excess to drown the troubles that plagued me.
Vlad’s shoulders slumped slightly, his gaze shifting to the floor as if contemplating my words. “Alright, brother,” he
muttered, his voice subdued.
"By the way, you've heard about Vanya's dinner party, right?" I asked Vlad before he left.
"Which one? The one on Friday?" He slouched and tilted his head to the left. I nodded.
"I heard about it. Not from her directly, but from a few senators who were invited," Vlad said, "She was probably very
busy with arrangements that she forgot to tell me about it. Plus, maybe she realized it would be easier on her end if she just let
me get the invitation from the people I mingled with. You know how efficient she can be sometimes."
That wasn't it, Vlad. She just didn't want you there.
"And what about you? Did you get an invite?" Vlad asked.
"Of course I did, Vlad. I'm the head of the organization. I got the invite long before it became public," I answered.
"Of course. Goodnight, Boss," Vlad bowed and exited the room.
I took another drag of the cigarette, the bitter taste mingling with the thoughts that swirled within me. As I exhaled, a
sense of clarity settled over me. The nights of chasing empty thrills were behind me. There was a rogue faction from the
Bianchi family making subtle moves in the shadows, despite the cease-fire we had established. It was a reminder that the
world I lived in was one of constant danger and treachery. Anton kept me informed of the developments, but even the pressure
of the escalating conflict couldn’t distract me from the storm of emotions brewing inside me.
 Chapter 15 - Ivan
Despite the plan to announce the engagement, I still found Vanya's dinner party terribly annoying. She had forced a
move and dragged me into her game, and it was a game played on her own turf and by her own rules. After she was done with
college, she developed a habit of throwing exquisite parties such as these, often drawing in powerful guests. I think, at the time,
it gave her a purpose. It was also a time my father would use these parties to gather information and build alliances with top
political figures. These grand gatherings were however never to my liking. I sighed heavily, resigned to the fact that my evening
was now committed to a lavish event I’d rather have avoided. Regardless of my distaste for it, it was still the perfect stage to
tell the world about Audrey and I.
My mind couldn’t help but wander back to the memories of my brother, Mikhail. He was the second eldest son and had
descended from Zolotov Incarnate to the black sheep of the family. The one who dared to dream of a life beyond the dangerous
Bratva lifestyle. To the family and the organization, he was now the disowned son, a traitor who had abandoned our ways to
live a normal life.
But to me, Mikhail was my younger brother, my favorite. Along with Anton, he was my most cherished confidant. His
skills in the organization were even greater than mine and if he had remained, he would’ve become a formidable top official in
the Bratva. He was known as the prodigy of the criminal underworld. However, he had given it all up for freedom.
During our time in Boston, years ago, Mikhail longed for freedom and seeking dreams outside the darkness we were
born into. Back then, the missions we went on were beyond dangerous, and a certain cloud of melancholy would often envelop
him. We were partners and the most feared, doing the dirtiest jobs in the most efficient way possible.
I still remembered the day he made the decision to escape after the girl was killed by our father’s enemy. After he
helped our father and I defeat the Chinese boss, he put the final bullet in the old man's head and decided to put the dark days
behind him. His eyes were filled with determination and a glimmer of hope as he declared his intention to leave the Bratva
behind.
Back then, I didn’t fully understand his desire to break free from the clutches of the organization, but I respected him.
So, I decided to help him out. His choice had come at a cost, though. Our father and the organization disowned him, casting him
out like a forgotten memory.
None of them knew that I had been the one to help him escape, not even Anton. I had hidden Mikhail’s intentions and
aided his departure, even though it meant breaking the unwavering loyalty that the Bratva demanded.
I couldn’t help but wonder if such an escape was possible for me. Would I ever leave the Bratva behind and find
happiness and peace somewhere else? I didn’t think so. My obligations and responsibilities within the organization were too
deeply ingrained, and leaving was not an option.
I had spent my entire life in service to the Bratva, climbing its ranks and becoming a formidable force within the
organization. My brothers and I had followed in our father’s footsteps, ensuring the continuity of our family’s legacy. Even my
sister, who had been denied entry into the organization because she was a woman, still supported the Bratva as best she could.
Now, I was so powerful that I was the one making the rules. In a way, I could create a better world for Audrey and Charles.
Funny, I'm already expecting a boy.
Her emerging upstairs brought me out of my reminiscing and I was momentarily rendered speechless. She stood before
me, radiant in a stunning gown that left me awestruck.
“You look stunning,” I blurted, and I noticed a blush tinge her cheeks.
The fabric seemed to caress her every curve, and the delicate embroidery accentuated her beauty in ways I had never
seen before. The dress shimmered like stardust, and I couldn’t help but think she was an angel who had descended to grace my
life. Trapped in the house here with me, her charm had worn off, forgotten from the forced introversion, but now it came to
light once again. I made a mental note to take her out more after the party.
"Anything I should worry about or look out for when we're there?" She asked.
"Well, just avoid speaking to the people there as much as possible. They're very powerful people and they're not all
what the world thinks they are," I said.

***
With Audrey at my side, we made our way to Vanya’s home, the air tinged with both excitement and anxiety. I held her
hand tightly as we walked in. I enjoyed it, the soft feel of her skin and the closeness the evening exacted.
As we arrived at the party, the opulence and grandeur were immediately apparent. The venue was a sight to behold,
adorned with the finest decor and ornaments money could buy. Vanya had redesigned her home specifically for this occasion.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. Rich tapestries adorned the walls,
telling tales of valor and power. Elaborate flower arrangements adorned each table, and the fragrance of exotic blooms filled
the air.
The guests were as impressive as the setting, comprising top members of the Bratva and influential political figures,
most of whom I knew. Their hushed conversations, guarded expressions, and shrewd glances only emphasized the gravity of the
event.
As we entered the room, there was an audible gasp from the assembled guests and the air in the place immediately
changed. Everyone was surprised to see the Boss of the Bratva in the flesh, especially after I had gone on a social retreat.
Beyond that, it was clear that they had not been expecting to see a woman by my side, and I could feel their curious eyes on us.
“Ivan!” Vanya rushed to me the second she caught sight of me. “So glad you came.”
“Yo, Ivan,” Vlad greeted, and strolled toward us with his hands sheathed in his pockets.
“Have some respect, Vladimir,” Vanya hissed.
“Oh, forgive me. Hello, boss.” Vlad bowed mockingly but I paid him no mind. I was used to his antics, but Vanya could
never quite stand him. She rolled her eyes at him and turned her attention to Audrey. I took the opportunity to introduce Audrey
to them, and Vlad was surprised yet courteous in his greetings.
Vanya, the ever-gracious hostess, welcomed her warmly, feigning surprise at seeing Audrey. She seemed genuinely
pleased to meet Audrey.
“Wow, Audrey! You're more beautiful than what I heard. Honestly, Ivan never does you justice when he talks about
you," she clasped Audrey's hands, "And you're all he ever talks about." She winked at me and mouthed "You're welcome."
Audrey smiled widely and thanked her shyly. Eventually, Vanya was pulled away by one of her guests, a senator.
Vlad, on the other hand, said nothing but looked at Audrey curiously before disappearing. With a small smile, I
mustered the courage to make the announcement that was sure to shock everyone present.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I said, my voice steady but my heart pounding, “I have an important announcement to make.
This evening, I am delighted to introduce you all to the woman who has captured my heart—Audrey Sanders.”
A stunned silence filled the room as all eyes turned to Audrey, whose smile radiated like the morning sun. It was then
that I added, “And not only that, but I am also thrilled to announce that Audrey and I are engaged to be married by the end of
next month.”
A loud applause filled the room. The reactions were instantaneous and varied. The room buzzed with whispers and
hushed discussions as they attempted to process the news. Yet, amid the sea of reactions, I could only focus on Audrey.
Her eyes sparkled with happiness, and my grip on her hand tightened as if to reassure her that we were in this together.
When I was done, numerous people surrounded us, congratulating us on our engagement. Audrey kept her interaction
with them to a minimum and I hoped it stayed that way. I am sure she has her own assumptions by now, but I couldn't have my
position in the Bratva revealed to her. Not yet.
"They’re still staring at us,” she began, her face innocent and shy in the presence of the criminal world. I was certain
everyone else could sense it.
Unfortunately, Anton’s call tore me away from her for a moment. I excused myself from the room, leaving Audrey alone
amidst the sea of strangers. As I stepped onto the porch, Anton explained that he had managed to capture some members of the
Bianchis. That was a beautiful progress. I had invited Anton to the party but he humbly declined, opting instead to work.
But when I returned to the room, I was met with an unexpected sight that sent a jolt of jealousy coursing through me.
Vlad was flirting shamelessly with Audrey. The sight of his charming smile and her giggles subtly fueled my anger.
"And what are we talking about?" I said to both of them. Vlad cleared his throat and replied, "Nothing much. Just
getting to know my future sister-in-law."
Right. Vlad, ever since he was very young, had one fundamental flaw that, apparently, was impossible to fix. He was
always envious of the things I owned. It didn't matter if his were objectively better than mine, the mere fact that the object
belonged to me made it glitter irresistibly in his eyes. Anton had revealed that at one point, Vlad had gone on a hunt, sleeping
with every girl I had ever slept with in clubs. Moreover, he had also tried 'getting to know' Josephine too.
"What are you doing, Vlad?" I assumed my cold demeanor.
"N-Nothing, I swear," he started to back away. Audrey looked back and forth, the tension cutting through us. I chuckled
suddenly and pulled Vlad for an embrace, stating that I was just kidding.
"Don't come close or talk to her, understand?" I whispered in his ear. He nodded and excused himself. Audrey smiled,
oblivious to Vlad's true intentions.
"Wow, this is quite the party. Most of these people are those I see on the news," she looked around curiously.
"I thought I told you not to talk to anyone," I said sternly.
"What?"
"When I give an order, you're to obey. It's that simple," I barked quietly.
The transformation in her hazelnut eyes was fascinating to me. They morphed from innocence to confusion, and finally
to defiance.
"What Is wrong with you? You left me all alone here in a room full of powerful people you said I can't trust. Everyone's
eyes were fixed on me and every stranger that passed congratulated me, so I thought that having some company would prevent
excessive contact with the others," she whispered aggressively, "Besides, isn't he your brother?"
There's a good girl indeed. She was learning and learning fast. I was just a jealous prick. What she needed was a way
to be independent, to make calculated decisions even when I was not there. I just wished the company was anyone but Vlad.
"Calm down, Audrey. I apologize for my tone," I said hesitantly, "It's just that Vlad and I have a complicated
relationship."
"I see... What happened there?" She appeared genuinely interested. However, we were interrupted by two men who
came to us. One of them was old, wearing a large grey suit and a wrinkled face that was permanently set into a frown. The
other was a young man in a black velvet suit. Both of them greeted and congratulated us on our engagement. The young man
darted from Audrey to me, before settling on her. There was something familiar about him. I turned to find Audrey trembling at
the sight of the man.
"Jeremy," she muttered, her words coming in fragmented pieces, "What are you doing here?"
Of course. Jeremy Smith, her former fiancé. So that means the man behind him must be Hamilton Smith, judging by
the resemblance. I grabbed Audrey's hand to calm her down.
"We are associates of Mr. Zolotov’s organization," the father gave a sinister grin. I didn't recall being affiliated with
them.
"Yes, how is business these days, Mr. Zolotov?" Jeremy turned to me.
"Smooth," I forced a smile. The smug in his face was annoying and I wondered how Audrey had been able to put up
with the bastard for that long.
"Well, that's not what I hear with the whole Bianchi affair," Jeremy said as he watched Audrey's reaction. This prick!
He was trying to reveal my identity and see if Audrey knew about it.
"I'm sorry but you and I are actually not associates," I corrected them, pointing to the fact that I didn't know them.
"Oh, but we are. Your brother Vlad met with us. In fact, you could say we're brothers now," Hamilton said as he sipped
his drink.
"Do you know what brother is in Russian, Audrey?" Jeremy smirked. This had gone on too long.
"Is this a way to treat your associates? Would you like for me to end our relationship and address this discourteous way
you both have been talking to us?" I stepped closer to them and placed my hands on their shoulders before whispering, "You
both should know what I do to those who misbehave." I tightened my grip on their shoulders, "Don't make me address this."
They shuddered and apologized. "Would you look at the time? We should be leaving, dad. See you, Audrey," Jeremy
said.
"No, you won't. Don't come close to her or else," I said to him as I shot him a deadly glare.
He gulped and bowed, "Yes, Boss." When they left, I turned to Audrey. She was still in shock from the encounter.
"Hey, are you okay?" I gently touched her soft chin. She jerked back to reality.
"I-I never thought I would ever see him again," her eyes were still widened with terror, "What was all that they were
talking about? All that Bianchi and associates talk?"
"Come on, you're dazed. You need to get some fresh air," I wrapped my arms around her and led her to the balcony. I
couldn't let her learn about my double life as the leader of the Bratva in here. She wasn't ready to handle the truth yet.
We stood in silence against the balcony railing and watched the quiet night sky. Beneath and behind us, Vanya's party
raged, but here, we were alone, cut off from any of the drama. She tugged at my shirt like a cute child and lowered my head
before she suddenly pulled me in for a kiss.
 Chapter 16 - Audrey
There was something about the air that pointed to my suspicion that the people gathered in the room were united by
more than the conventional business bond. It felt like there was something more, something... darker. I could feel it the moment
Ivan and I walked into the room and the guests fell silent before him. He held a sinister power over them but I couldn't quite
figure it out and I wasn’t sure why he wouldn't reveal it to me.
My mind drifted to two nights ago when Ivan found me sauntering around the compound.
"Don't worry, I'm just taking a stroll. Not plotting an escape or anything. God, that sounds awkward as hell," I had
blurted suddenly.
Ivan laughed, "It's not like you would be able to find your way seeing as we're far from town. After the
announcement though, you'll be free to leave the compound as you please."
"And calls?"
"And calls too," Ivan assured, "I know you've wanted to reach your friends for a while now but I'd just like the news
to be broken to the world at once."
I sat on the newly trimmed grass and kept the novel I had in hand by my side. "What is it you do, Ivan? You've never
really told me that," I managed to ask. A part of me knew it was an answer I didn't want to know but I had to know
regardless. His face stiffened and he became defensive.
"I told you. I do contracts and favors for people," he tried to offer a reassuring smile, but it wasn't enough. I
wanted to know but he had a look that said, "Stop asking these questions, Audrey. I promise to tell you all there is to know
soon enough," and I yielded.
Now here I was in this dinner party with everyone staring at me like I was the queen of some dark emperor.
“Hello there, Audrey,” Vanya, Ivan’s older sister, approached me again with a warm smile that belied the curiosity in
her eyes. Her words held the unspoken question, “Who are you?”
I took a big gulp and smiled as best I could, attempting to reassure her that I meant no harm to her brother and that I
cared deeply for him. Vanya was incredibly refined in speech, taste and manners, and her presence became suffocating and
tense. Or it was me and this place. Before Vanya could respond, another guest claimed her attention, and I was left to gather my
thoughts.
The unspoken whispers and the lingering stares started to gnaw at my confidence. The room felt like it was closing in
on me, and suddenly, I was drowning in paranoia and self-doubt.
But before I could catch my breath, Vlad, Ivan’s younger brother, appeared before me.
“Well, well, well, Ivan really outdid himself. He certainly has good taste,” Vlad said with a smile. His appearance was
striking, with his hair slicked back like Ivan's. His posture did give him an informal and approachable air. His smile was
disarming, and I felt a hint of danger beneath his playful demeanor. His presence however seemed to drive the diva away from
me so that was a warm welcome.
As he introduced himself, I tried to remain polite but distant. I had seen this in so many cliché romance novels—the girl
falling in love with both her fiancé and his brother. No way was I going to be caught in some stupid love triangle.
My efforts seemed futile as he continued to flirt with me, his words and gestures too familiar for my comfort. Not
wanting to come off as disrespectful, I forced a giggle to his words, hoping he would leave. Just as I felt a sense of unease
settling in, Ivan returned to witness the scene. I could tell he was jealous as he drove Vlad away from me.
Then, he went into his whole I make the rules, you are to follow them routine and I couldn't take any more of it. Before
I could lose it in front of everybody, he apologized and hinted at a complex relationship between the brothers. Oh, how I
wished I could quiz him more.
However, before I could even try to do so, my lungs lost their power as I struggled to make sense of the people
approaching. Ivan did say that some of the most powerful people in the city would be present, so it shouldn't have been
surprising that they were here, but seeing Jeremy and his father here left me aghast.
Here I was, announcing my engagement to another man in front of someone I had thought would be my partner in crime
for life. Oh, what a month can do to people.
He mumbled things to Ivan as he watched me, observing my every reaction. It was like he was trying to tell me
something, to reveal something to me. The only thing his presence communicated though, was a reminder of all the painful
memories of our relationship and the things I had to endure while I was with him. And even though I had initially been forced
to this arrangement with Ivan, I was founding myself more aligned with the idea.
Before I knew it, Ivan left me and held them tightly by the shoulder, whispering something to them. Their faces changed,
flashing fear as Ivan pulled away. Just like that, they were on their way. Huh, I could ask him to teach me that.

***
 The balcony was empty and the roar of the party could be heard beyond the door. The night air was cool against my
flushed cheeks as I clung to Ivan, who stood tall beside me. The world spun wildly around me and struggled to hold my grip on
everything around me. The party, this overwhelming opulence, Ivan’s presence and the reactions it caused and yes, Jeremy’s
face too. Paired with heightened hormonal activity and I found it all too much.
I glanced at Ivan's face and his lips seemed to glisten, inviting me in. My heart beating loudly, I tugged at his shirt. As
his face came closer, I planted my lips on his before he could react. The kiss was sudden and passionate, leaving me breathless
and dizzy with emotions. All my fears and worries were replaced by a raw desire that I had struggled to suppress, and from the
way he kissed me, he too must've been fighting the urge.
My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to process the whirlwind of emotions inside me. He hesitated for a moment, his
eyes searching mine. His breath grew laborious as he bit his lip and pulled me closer.
He kissed me again, and this time his tongue swirled fiercely, trying to dominate me. Then slowly he moved to my neck
and kissed it as his strong hands cupped and groped my breasts. He pushed me against the wall and pulled my breasts out from
the top of my gown. While he sucked on them, his fingers wandered down my dress and into my love nest. I gasped and
clutched him tightly, my legs barely able to support me.
The voices of the guests clamored from inside, but all of it was a hum, incoherent and imperceptible in this moment. As
his fingers moved back and forth, quickening in their motion, his thumb played with my clit. A moan escaped my mouth and I
held my mouth shut. This was just like the night I first met him, the night I’d given myself up to him.
“Let’s get inside.” He bit my ear and pulled me into one of the empty guest rooms. He wasn’t giving me any chance to
think. There was only desire in his every motion.
Laying me on the bed, he lifted up my dress and went down, devouring me. Loud moans of pleasure filled the room as
my body convulsed from the ecstasy. His rough hands played with my nipples, rubbing and pinching them, as his tongue sank
into my hole, exploring every corner. He held me in place as I arched in rapture. His tongue licked on my clit, slowly nibbling
it as he thrust two of his fingers into my hole. I clenched tightly as the fingers quickened in their motion. My body was under
siege and I was at his mercy. He added another finger and attacked me aggressively until I arched and squirted before
collapsing on the bed breathless.
No rest for the wicked, apparently. Dropping down his pants, he pulled my hair and soon his entire member was down
my throat. At first it was painful, but I quickly acclimated to it, enjoying it even. I could feel it grow and stiffen, and I choked
and gagged as he forced the entire length in my mouth. It throbbed and I looked up to see his face red with excitement. His
growling grew as I slurped louder. He looked down at me , maintaining eye contact as his hands tightened around my hair and
pounded my throat wildly. I could feel my pussy getting warmer, oozing fluids as it ached to be filled.
Before he could orgasm, he pushed me back to the bed, my belly on the sheets and ass turned toward him, and thrust
into me. His hands held fast onto my waist and he dug into me, starting with slow deep strokes. I could feel everything clearly
in me as he filled me up. He nearly pulled out before I rammed it in deep and hard, and started hitting me fast and hard. We
were like wild animals in bliss, erasing the tension of the evening through pure pleasure. One of his hands grabbed my hair and
pulled me up to him as the other one cupped my breasts, groping and playing with them. My entire body burned with all the
sensations and my moans echoed throughout the room.
He then turned me around and spread my legs apart. I saw his large member soaked with the fluids of our bodies.
Seeing the thick and long rod that was to penetrate me any second now, sent a wave of fear down my body. Ivan bent down and
kissed me as he suddenly fingered my sensitive hole and clit. My body spasmed once again and he rose up with a sly smile. He
placed his rod in front of my entrance and pushed just the tip slightly in and held it there. My body squirmed for more but he
held both my hands with one hand and pulled out.
"Ivan, please," I moaned, "Put it back in. Please."
He regarded me for a moment before he replied, "No." He proceeded to rub his member against my clit, quickening the
pace until he felt satisfied. All the while, I begged but he made no reply. Finally, he placed my legs on his shoulder and thrust
his dick deep inside me. The feeling was unimaginable. I instantly came under him.
Before I could catch my breath, he pounded harder than ever before. One of his hands tightened around my neck, slowly
cutting off my supply of oxygen and I felt my entrance tighten hardly around him. He was unrelenting and merciless and I loved
every second of it.
Eventually, I felt him swell inside as he continued to pound until we both climaxed together, and with ragged breathing,
we collapsed on the bed.
This was the same feeling I had experienced after our first time. Only stronger and more intense, which made me freeze
with fear. How could I feel so fiercely towards someone I essentially do not know?
 Chapter 17 - Ivan
A few days later

The night air, cool and soothing, wrapped around me like a comforting shroud as I stood on the expansive balcony of
the penthouse. The city below me buzzed with its ceaseless energy, the rhythmic heartbeat of a metropolis that never slept.
I leaned against the ornate iron railing, a luxurious thick cigar resting between my fingers, its fragrant smoke spiraling
into the night. Each exhale carried with it a sense of calm, a momentary escape from the chaos that defined my world. My gaze
wandered downward, tracing the illuminated streets and towering skyscrapers that adorned the sprawling landscape. It was a
mesmerizing sight, the city’s beauty amplified under the cover of darkness. A sigh escaped me, and I shook my head, the cigar
tip glowing a fiery red as it inched closer to the edge. Even amidst the grandeur, my thoughts were consumed by her—Audrey.
I recalled that night, a night of wild passion and desire, all wrapped within the walls of my sister’s home.
I stroked my chin as I watched the lights from the buildings ahead switch off in response to the call of the night. The
taste of regret lingered on my tongue as I sighed, my gaze still fixed on the city below. I exhaled a plume of smoke, watching as
it mingled with the night air before dissipating into nothingness.
I found the memory of that night still lingered in my senses, intertwined with the scent of her perfume and the softness of
her lips against mine. I had savored every second of it, allowed myself to drown in the intoxication of her presence. But reality
loomed like a storm cloud, casting an ominous shadow over us.
Giuseppe had moved in on one of my territories and seized two of my warehouses early this morning, crippling the
access I had offered some of the corporations in the city. The old snake was making moves after he had declared a ceasefire.
How he had gotten the information on the warehouses evaded me? His friend, perhaps? This mysterious figure looming in the
background, supplying my enemies with crucial information about the organization and sabotaging us. The men Anton had
captured unfortunately had nothing to offer but Anton said he would press on with the questioning.
"Damn!" The word hissed past my lips, frustration and regret mingling in the air around me. I scratched my head in
exasperation. "Why did things have to turn out this way?" Just after I had found a sense of quiet and bliss with Audrey, this
happened.
“Did you say something?” Vlad’s voice, smooth and unconcerned, drew me from my internal monologue.
I turned to find my brother lounging on a pristine white leather chaise lounge, an amused glint in his eyes. Anton was
seated on the opposite leather couch, smoking a cigarette as he pored through several reports and blueprints. I had forgotten
they had been sitting there all along. Vlad's gaze held mine, a silent invitation to share my thoughts but beneath it, a search for
an opportunity to condescend. It was no wonder Vanya had always disliked him.
I forced a tight smile, masking the storm raging within. “Just thinking aloud.”
Vlad raised an eyebrow, his expression suggesting he wanted more than such a vague response.
"Have you been hearing what some of the men within the organization have been saying?" Vlad chuckled as he took a
sip of the exquisite Montrachet in his glass.
I made no reply.
"They're saying something about you going soft and spending time with your new bride. I'm not exactly sure, but that's
what I heard," I could tell Vlad was holding a sneer.
"Names."
"Eh?" Vlad was confused.
"Give me their names," I turned to him, "And I'll turn them to bodies to show them just how soft I’ve gone."
Vlad took a large gulp and smiled awkwardly.
Taking a puff of smoke, Anton asked, “So you still want to hit them tonight, Boss?”
His words pulled me back to the reality of the situation, a dangerous game we’d been playing for far too long. I was
tired of the games, sick of the name itself. A surge of determination replaced my earlier turmoil.
“Yeah, let’s end this Bianchi trouble once and for all,” I replied, the cigar held between my fingers now a silent
testament to my resolve. The smoke spiraled upward and dissipated into the cool night air. With a final puff of my cigar, I
discarded the remnants over the railing, the embers flickering briefly before disappearing into the abyss below.
With a graceful movement, I stepped away from the balcony, the night’s chill giving way to the warmth of the penthouse
interior. Vlad and Anton rose from their perches and followed me inside with a casual saunter.
The penthouse was a sanctuary of opulence, all sleek lines and modern design, yet some parts of its walls sported
ornate arabesque tapestries. My gaze swept over the lavish surroundings, from the marble floors to the abstract paintings that
adorned the walls. I’d always loved such places.
For me, it served as a stark contrast to the turmoil that raged beneath the surface, and the tension, I found, was often
soothing to me. Perhaps that was why I’d developed a mild obsession for art and architecture—it was of course nowhere close
to Vanya’s.
The rest of my men were already gathered; a quiet suspense hung in the air as they awaited my orders.
“You all remember the plan, right?” I addressed them at last, my voice firm and commanding. “Let’s move out.” I
couldn’t count how many times I had uttered those three words, and I conjectured this wouldn’t be the last time.
The imagined scene of a peaceful family life sprang up in my mind—a life with Audrey—and a subtle sense of dread
rose before vanishing as quickly as the imagination had risen. As I led my men away, a sense of purpose enveloped me,
drowning out the doubts and regrets that had plagued me moments before. The night unfurled before me, a canvas painted with
danger and uncertainty. As we stepped into the darkness, my gaze lifted to the moonlit sky, and for a moment I couldn’t help but
wonder if Audrey was looking up at the same stars, or what she was doing now. The city’s heartbeat throbbed on, slowly
waning but still curiously relentless and unyielding in energy, a reminder that life marched on, regardless of the tangled
emotions that bound us.
“Boss.” Anton bowed and opened the door for me.
The journey to the heart of the Italian gang’s lair was a silent one, the air heavy with tension. My men, hardened by
years of battles and betrayals, sat in grim anticipation, their eyes fixed on the road ahead. I wondered if they too dreamed of a
day when all of this would end. Could it ever end? The city streets blurred past, a backdrop of steel and concrete to the
dangerous dance that was about to unfold.
Finally, we arrived, the imposing compound of the Bianchi family looming before us like a fortress of shadows. My
heart pounded in my chest as we pulled to a stop, the engine’s growl fading into a palpable silence.
Anton, Vlad, and I remained in the car, our faces masks of stoic determination as we directed the meticulously planned
assault. Here we go again. Would the same ambush occur or would we be successful this time? It was time to find out.
“Go” was all I calmly said.
Outside the car’s windows, chaos reigned. My men moved with precision, storming the compound like a force of nature
unleashed. Gunfire erupted in sharp staccato bursts, the sound echoing through the night as they engaged in a deadly dance of
bullets and blood.
But within the confines of the car, an eerie stillness prevailed.
Beneath my veneer of calm, a sickening feeling began to well within my heart. A memory, vivid and haunting, clawed
its way to the forefront of my mind. Audrey—her eyes wide with fear, her voice a fragile whisper, as she caught me in the
aftermath of a fatal encounter with Detective Lopez. In that moment, I had glimpsed the fear of how my actions could be
perceived by someone else, someone I cared about. A chill crawled down my spine as I allowed myself to imagine what it
would be like for my own child to look at me with that same mixture of dread and disbelief.
The thoughts ran through my head as I waited for the madness of death in the distance to come to an end. They were
thoughts I knew I could never utter to anyone, especially Audrey. No one could learn about my vulnerability.
But as the tumultuous symphony of gunfire played out in the distance, a strange calm settled within the car. Anton and
Vlad exchanged glances, their expressions mirroring the quiet acceptance of the roles we played. As always, we were the
conductors of this dark symphony, orchestrating the moves from within the safety of our steel cocoon and this time, the
symphony was progressing smoothly.
With a deliberate motion, I reached for the pack of cigarettes on the dashboard, fingers brushing against the familiar
texture. I pulled one out, the flame of the lighter casting a warm glow in the dim interior of the car.
I lowered the window and inhaled the first drag, the cool night air mingling with the tendrils of smoke that curled and
dissipated into the darkness. The scent of gunpowder and distant chaos wafted in. It was a scene of duality—the city’s
underworld was engulfed in a battle for power and dominance while I sat in contemplative serenity, a master of shadows and
secrets.
In that moment, I knew one thing with unwavering clarity.
After this night, after the smoke cleared and the echoes of gunfire faded, I would return to Audrey. I would attempt to
dispel the fear that had taken root in her heart. It was a daunting task, one I found more difficult than the elimination of an old
and powerful Mafia family, but it was one that I had to undertake, for the sake of my child and the promise of a future free from
the shackles of darkness.
As the minutes stretched on, the gunfire began to dwindle, replaced by an eerie hush that settled over the compound. My
cigarette burned down to a stub and I flicked it out into the night, watching it disappear like a fading star. The plan had
unfolded, the don of the Bianchi family, Giuseppe Bianchi lay defeated at last, and the city’s balance of power had shifted. I’d
finally accomplished what my father had struggled but failed to do all his years.
I waltzed into the battered building with Anton, Vlad opting to remain in the car. I met Giuseppe on his knees
surrounded by my men, his frail countenance glaring at me menacingly.
"I thought we had a deal, Mr. Bianchi," I said to him with a straight face.
He chuckled, "Well, when I saw such a prize handed to me on a silver platter, how could I pass it up?" Anton and I
glanced at each other, before I pulled my gun from my vest and pointed it at his head. This was a scene I had lived over and
over since my teenage years. I was caught in an infinite time loop, with only the faces altered.
"Any last words, Don Giuseppe Bianchi?" I asked him.
"Make sure you take good care of your kid," he closed his eyes and braced for the end. A loud bang echoed as the body
of Giuseppe fell inanimate to the floor.
"Move out, people," I ordered and we left the building.
With a final glance toward the compound, I bade Anton to turn the car around and head back toward the heart of the city.
Our mission was complete.
The silence within the car remained, but now it was tinged with a sense of accomplishment. I realized that maybe it was
a sense of camaraderie that had prevented my father and old man Giuseppe from ultimately taking out the other. After all, they
did go way back. Fortunately, such a bond didn’t exist between us, and I had a goal to achieve.
The city’s skyline rose before me, and the dream of the world I sought to shape slowly took form in my eyes—a
paradise where my child, where all children, could thrive without fear. And so, with the echoes of gunfire fading into the night,
I pressed on and headed back home.
 Chapter 18 - Audrey
Ivan was absent this whole weekend and I was fighting pregnancy cravings, mood swings and utter confusion in my
mind. Hence, I decided to face one pending thing and dialed one of my best friends.
"Hello," Charlotte answered the call groggily.
Did I wake her up?
"Sorry, Char. It's Audrey," I replied sheepishly.
"Oh my—oh my God! Gold! Is that you? Is that really you?" Charlotte exclaimed.
"Yes. Yes, it is," I laughed. It was nice to hear that nickname Gold again.
"Where have you been? The note you sent to both Claire and me saying you needed time to figure everything out was so
vague. Then, when I visited your place, the landlord said you had moved out to go live with some rich guy," Charlotte related.
"Yeah, I'm very sorry about not reaching out earlier. A lot of things happened," I humbly apologized.
"So where are you right now?"
"Remember Ivan, right?"
"Yes, the father. Did you finally meet him?" Charlotte asked.
"Yes, I did. It’s been a whirlwind ever since, but--" I hesitated. “Char, I am engaged to be married.”
"Whoa! Oh my God! Since when?" Charlotte's surprise was palpable.
"It's been two weeks or so. The wedding will be soon," I drew imaginary circles on the silk sheet of the bed, "You'll be
there, right?"
"Of course we will, Gold,” Charlotte assured me.
“How is he treating you?” She then asked, her voice tinged with concern for my well-being.
“Even though it’s been challenging the first couple of days, I have a full queen treatment, but… I am still wondering
whether I am completely mad for marrying someone I barely know.” I admitted.
“Hey, crazier things had been done. Gold, follow your intuition and your heart. I am sure all will end up just the way
it’s supposed to be.”
“Oh, how I miss you, Char. We need to have a reunion as soon as possible.” I decided.
“I would love nothing more, friend. I know this is a huge transition period for you, but remember, I am a phone call
away.” She told me.
“Love you, Char.”
“Back at you, Gold.” She said before hanging up.
I was still smiling thinking about my girlfriend when I heard the screeching sound of cars from outside the house.
Assuming it was Ivan, I jumped to get to the window and see his face. Instead, I found Vanya entering the mansion.
Once inside, she excitedly called me in for a hug. "How have you been? Hope you’re well. I realized I was free today
and thought I could pay you and my brother a visit. I hope you don’t mind I came by uninvited.
“Not at all. You’re always very welcome, but I have to disappoint you and let you know Ivan is away this weekend.” I
sighed as I told her the news.
“Oh, even better. We’ll have a girl’s night then! I would like to know my future sister-in-law a bit better, if you’re up
for it.”
“I am more than happy to do so, Vanya.” I smiled.
And that’s how we dove into swapping stories and inevitably bonding with each other. Even though we come from two
completely different worlds, she was surprisingly easy to talk to, and her fierce determination was evident in everything she
did. It was clear that she cared deeply for her brother—almost too much, a stranger might’ve added—and wanted the best for
him.
She shared a few anecdotes from their childhood emphasizing just how close Anton and Ivan had always been. I had
never really thought about it. Anton was always there by his side, but until now, I did not give it much of an importance.
Despite their stations in life, there was a bond they shared, a trust that was admirable.
“But of course, the others were jealous of that bond,” Vanya remarked as though she had read my mind.
“The others?”
“Yeah, our brothers.” There was something about the way she said it that suggested a certain distance from them. It was
almost like they weren’t her siblings, only related to Ivan. “Especially Vlad. That prick was a jealous brat, I’ll tell you that.
And a sly fox too. I don’t know why Ivan keeps him around. I’d sooner trust a madman with my life than him.”
Before I could really say anything, she continued, “And there’s Sergei, born just a year before Vlad. Thank goodness I
managed to get that one out of town for a while. He’s too reckless and impulsive, but he is the baby of the family, so we all
love him anyway.”
I was finally getting an insight into Ivan’s life and I couldn’t help but feel compassion. I began to understand the
complex layers that made up Ivan’s stoic exterior. His tough mask had been forged through years of hardship and pain, yet
Another random document with
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The Project Gutenberg eBook of Joyce Kilmer
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United
States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away
or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License
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laws of the country where you are located before using this
eBook.

Title: Joyce Kilmer

poems, essays and letters in two volumes. Volume 2,
prose works

Author: Joyce Kilmer

Editor: Robert Cortes Holliday

Release date: September 28, 2023 [eBook #71748]

Language: English

Original publication: New York: George H. Doran, 1918

Credits: Tim Lindell and the Online Distributed Proofreading

Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was
produced from images made available by the
HathiTrust Digital Library.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOYCE

KILMER ***
 Transcriber’s Note
Larger versions of the illustrations may be seen by right-
clicking them and selecting an option to view them separately,
or by double-tapping and/or stretching them.
New original cover art included with this eBook is granted
to the public domain.
Additional notes will be found near the end of this ebook.
 JOYCE KILMER
POEMS, ESSAYS
AND LETTERS
IN TWO VOLUMES

VOLUME TWO: PROSE WORKS

SERGEANT JOYCE KILMER
165TH INFANTRY (69TH NEW YORK),
A. E. F., FRANCE, MAY, 1918
 JOYCE KILMER
EDITED WITH A MEMOIR
BY ROBERT CORTES HOLLIDAY
VOLUME TWO
PROSE WORKS

NEW YORK
GEORGE H. DORAN
COMPANY
 Copyright, 1914, 1917, 1918
By George H. Doran Company
Printed in the United States of America
CONTENTS—VOLUME TWO
PAGE
ESSAYS
Holy Ireland 11
The Gentle Art of Christmas Giving 26
A Bouquet for Jenny 39
The Inefficient Library 49
The Poetry of Hilaire Belloc 62
The Catholic Poets of Belgium 78

LETTERS
To Charles Willis Thompson 101
To Shaemas O’Sheel 101
To Louis Bevier, Jr. 103
To Sara Teasdale Filsinger 104
To Katherine Brégy 105
To Amelia Josephine Burr 107
To Howard W. Cook 108
To Thomas Walsh 111
To Robert Cortes Holliday 114
To Reverend Edward F. Garesché, S.J. 116
To Reverend James J. Daly, S.J. 119
To His Mother 144
To Kenton Kilmer 163
To Deborah Kilmer 165
To His Wife 166

MISCELLANEOUS PIECES
A Ballad of New Sins 227
War Songs 230
“Try a Tin To-Day:” A Short Story 233
Some Mischief Still: A Play in One Act 252
 ILLUSTRATIONS
Sergeant Joyce Kilmer Frontispiece
PAGE
Joyce Kilmer, Age 5 120
Joyce Kilmer’s Grave 222
ESSAYS
 HOLY IRELAND
WE HAD hiked seventeen miles that stormy December day—the
third of a four days’ journey. The snow was piled high on our packs,
our rifles were crusted with ice, the leather of our hob-nailed boots
was frozen stiff over our lamed feet. The weary lieutenant led us to
the door of a little house in a side street.
“Next twelve men,” he said. A dozen of us dropped out of the
ranks and dragged ourselves over the threshold. We tracked snow
and mud over a spotless stone floor. Before an open fire stood
Madame and the three children—a girl of eight years, a boy of five, a
boy of three. They stared with round frightened eyes at les soldats
Americains, the first they had ever seen. We were too tired to stare
back. We at once climbed to the chill attic, our billet, our lodging for
the night. First we lifted the packs from one another’s aching
shoulders; then, without spreading our blankets, we lay down on the
bare boards.
For ten minutes there was silence, broken by an occasional
groan, an oath, the striking of a match. Cigarettes glowed like
fireflies in a forest. Then a voice came from the corner.
“Where is Sergeant Reilly?” it said. We lazily searched. There
was no Sergeant Reilly to be found.
“I’ll bet the old bum has gone out after a pint,” said the voice.
And with the curiosity of the American and the enthusiasm of the
Irish we lumbered downstairs in quest of Sergeant Reilly.
He was sitting on a low bench by the fire. His shoes were off and
his bruised feet were in a pail of cold water. He was too good a
soldier to expose them to the heat at once. The little girl was on his
lap and the little boys stood by and envied him. And in a voice that
twenty years of soldiering and oceans of whisky had failed to rob of
its Celtic sweetness, he was softly singing “Ireland isn’t Ireland any
more.” We listened respectfully.
“They cheer the King and then salute him,” said Sergeant Reilly.
“A regular Irishman would shoot him,” and we all joined in the
chorus, “Ireland isn’t Ireland any more.”
“Ooh, la, la!” exclaimed Madame, and she and all the children
began to talk at the top of their voices. What they said Heaven
knows, but the tones were friendly, even admiring.
“Gentlemen,” said Sergeant Reilly from his post of honor, “the
lady who runs this billet is a very nice lady indeed. She says yez can
all take off your shoes and dry your socks by the fire. But take turns
and don’t crowd or I’ll trun yez all upstairs.”
Now Madame, a woman of some forty years, was a true
bourgeoise, with all the thrift of her class. And by the terms of her
agreement with the authorities she was required to let the soldiers
have for one night the attic of her house to sleep in—nothing more;
no light, no heat. Also, wood is very expensive in France—for
reasons that are engraven in letters of blood on the pages of history.
Nevertheless—
“Assez-vous, s’il vous plait,” said Madame. And she brought
nearer to the fire all the chairs the establishment possessed and
some chests and boxes to be used as seats. And she and the little
girl, whose name was Solange, went out into the snow and came
back with heaping armfuls of small logs. The fire blazed merrily—
more merrily than it had blazed since August, 1914, perhaps. We
surrounded it, and soon the air was thick with steam from our drying
socks.
Meanwhile Madame and the Sergeant had generously admitted
all eleven of us into their conversation. A spirited conversation it was,
too, in spite of the fact that she knew no English and the extent of his
French was “du pain,” “du vin,” “cognac” and “bon jour.” Those of us
who knew a little more of the language of the country acted as
interpreters for the others. We learned the names of the children and
their ages. We learned that our hostess was a widow. Her husband
had fallen in battle just one month before our arrival in her home.
She showed us with simple pride and affection and restrained grief
his picture. Then she showed us those of her two brothers—one now
fighting at Salonica, the other a prisoner of war—of her mother and
father, of herself dressed for First Communion.
This last picture she showed somewhat shyly, as if doubting that
we would understand it. But when one of us asked in halting French
if Solange, her little daughter, had yet made her First Communion,
then Madame’s face cleared.
“Mais oui!” she exclaimed. “Et vous, ma foi, vous etes
Catholiques, n’est-ce pas?”
At once rosary beads were flourished to prove our right to
answer this question affirmatively. Tattered prayer-books and
somewhat dingy scapulars were brought to light. Madame and the
children chattered their surprise and delight to each other, and every
exhibit called for a new outburst.
“Ah, le bon S. Benoit! Ah, voilà, le Conception Immacule! Ooh la
la, le Sacre Coeur!” (which last exclamation sounded in no wise as
irreverent as it looks in print).
Now other treasures, too, were shown—treasures chiefly
photographic. There were family groups, there were Coney Island
snapshots. And Madame and the children were a gratifyingly
appreciative audience. They admired and sympathized; they
exclaimed appropriately at the beauty of every girl’s face, the
tenderness of every pictured mother. We had become the intimates
of Madame. She had admitted us into her family and we her into
ours.
Soldiers—American soldiers of Irish descent—have souls and
hearts. These organs (if the soul may be so termed) had been
satisfied. But our stomachs remained—and that they yearned was
evident to us. We had made our hike on a meal of hardtack and
“corned willy.” Mess call would sound soon. Should we force our wet
shoes on again and plod through the snowy streets to the temporary
mess-shack? We knew our supply wagons had not succeeded in
climbing the last hill into town, and that therefore bread and
unsweetened coffee would be our portion. A great depression settled
upon us.
But Sergeant Reilly rose to the occasion.
“Boys,” he said, “this here lady has got a good fire going, and I’ll
bet she can cook. What do you say we get her to fix us up a meal?”
The proposal was received joyously at first. Then someone said:
“But I haven’t got any money.” “Neither have I—not a damn sou!”
said another. And again the spiritual temperature of the room fell.
Again Sergeant Reilly spoke:
“I haven’t got any money to speak of, meself,” he said. “But let’s
have a show-down. I guess we’ve got enough to buy somethin’ to
eat.”
It was long after pay-day, and we were not hopeful of the results
of the search. But the wealthy (that is, those who had two francs)
made up for the poor (that is, those who had two sous). And among
the coins on the table I noticed an American dime, an English half-
crown and a Chinese piece with a square hole in the center. In
negotiable tender the money came in all to eight francs.
It takes more money than that to feed twelve hungry soldiers
these days in France. But there was no harm in trying. So an ex-
seminarian, an ex-bookkeeper and an ex-street-car conductor aided
Sergeant Reilly in explaining in French that had both a brogue and a
Yankee twang that we were hungry, that this was all the money we
had in the world, and that we wanted her to cook us something to
eat.
Now Madame was what they call in New England a “capable”
woman. In a jiffy she had the money in Solange’s hand and had that
admirable child cloaked and wooden-shod for the street, and fully
informed as to what she was to buy. What Madame and the children
had intended to have for supper I do not know, for there was nothing
in the kitchen but the fire, the stove, the table, some shelves of
dishes and an enormous bed. Nothing in the way of a food cupboard
could be seen. And the only other room of the house was the bare
attic.
When Solange came back she carried in a basket bigger than
herself these articles: 1, two loaves of war-bread; 2, five bottles of
red wine; 3, three cheeses; 4, numerous potatoes; 5, a lump of fat; 6,
a bag of coffee. The whole represented, as was afterward
demonstrated, exactly the sum of ten francs, fifty centimes.
Well, we all set to work peeling potatoes. Then, with a veritable
French trench-knife Madame cut the potatoes into long strips.
Meanwhile Solange had put the lump of fat into the big black pot that
hung by a chain over the fire. In the boiling grease the potatoes were
placed, Madame standing by with a big ladle punched full of holes (I
regret that I do not know the technical name for this instrument) and
keeping the potato-strips swimming, zealously frustrating any
attempt on their part to lie lazily at the bottom of the pot.
We forgot all about the hike as we sat at supper that evening.
The only absentees were the two little boys, Michel and Paul. And
they were really absent only from our board—they were in the room,
in the great built-in bed that was later to hold also Madame and
Solange. Their little bodies were covered by the three-foot thick
mattress-like red silk quilt, but their tousled heads protruded and
they watched us unblinkingly all the evening.
But just as we sat down, before Sergeant Reilly began his task
of dishing out the potatoes and starting the bottles on their way,
Madame stopped her chattering and looked at Solange. And
Solange stopped her chattering and looked at Madame. And they
both looked rather searchingly at us. We didn’t know what was the
matter, but we felt rather embarrassed.
Then Madame began to talk, slowly and loudly, as one talks to
make foreigners understand. And the gist of her remarks was that
she was surprised to see that American Catholics did not say grace
before eating like French Catholics.
We sprang to our feet at once. But it was not Sergeant Reilly
who saved the situation. Instead, the ex-seminarian (he is only
temporarily an ex-seminarian, he’ll be preaching missions and giving
retreats yet if a bit of shrapnel doesn’t hasten his journey to Heaven)
said, after we had blessed ourselves: “Benedicite: nos et quae
sumus sumpturi benedicat Deus, Pater et Filius et Spiritus Sanctus.
Amen.”
Madame and Solange, obviously relieved, joined us in the Amen,
and we sat down again to eat.
It was a memorable feast. There was not much conversation—
except on the part of Madame and Solange—but there was plenty of
good cheer. Also there was enough cheese and bread and wine and
potatoes for all of us—half starved as we were when we sat down.
Even big Considine, who drains a can of condensed milk at a gulp
and has been known to eat an apple pie without stopping to take
breath, was satisfied. There were toasts, also, all proposed by
Sergeant Reilly—toasts to Madame, and to the children, and to
France, and to the United States, and to the Old Grey Mare (this last
toast having an esoteric significance apparent only to illuminati of
Sergeant Reilly’s circle).
The table cleared and the “agimus tibi gratias” duly said, we sat
before the fire, most of us on the floor. We were warm and happy
and full of good food and good wine. I spied a slip of paper on the
floor by Solange’s foot and unashamedly read it. It was an
accounting for the evening’s expenditures—totaling exactly ten
francs and fifty centimes.
Now when soldiers are unhappy—during a long, hard hike, for
instance—they sing to keep up their spirits. And when they are
happy, as on the evening now under consideration, they sing to
express their satisfaction with life. We sang “Sweet Rosie O’Grady.”
We shook the kitchen-bedroom with the echoes of “Take Me Back to
New York Town.” We informed Madame, Solange, Paul, Michel, in
fact, the whole village, that we had never been a wanderer and that
we longed for our Indiana home. We grew sentimental over “Mother
Machree.” And Sergeant Reilly obliged with a reel—in his socks—to
an accompaniment of whistling and hand-clapping.