The realization that the second item on that list wasn’t the first and most obvious answer made me certifiable. But as I stared at myself in my full-length mirror, I just couldn’t ignore how pathetic it was that I’d reluctantly said “I do” while wearing high-waisted black ponte pants, a cropped, long-sleeved black and white houndstooth mock-turtleneck sweater, and lace-up black boots with a chunky heel. Apparently, no matter how hard I’d worked in school to make a better future for myself, this was the best I could do. Though there hadn’t been much time to change after my father had taken me so off-guard earlier that morning.
Now that I thought about it, I wouldn’t have changed anyway.
I wouldn’t have wanted to give my husband the impression that I was in any way excited about being thrust into matrimony, bound and gagged.
My father not even deigning to show up, however, after he’d not-so-subtly nudged me down the figurative aisle, caused irrational hurt to swell up inside me. He’d basically dropped me off to face my groom—and doom—before jetting off for a business meeting.
Recalling the troublesome conversation we’d had earlier that morning didn’t exactly ease my growing nerves.
“You want me to what?” I shrieked at Batya. Dad.
He sighed, yet remained ever patient, as he interlaced his fingers over his crossed legs. “Things are not good here, zaika.” Bunny. He’d always called me his little bunny. “You don’t need to know the details, but the Voiny are gaining in numbers. And with the rising opposition, certain…debts…are being called in. Apparently, some in the organization feel I’m losing traction. They’re offering their fealty and protection but at a steep price.”
Over the last several months, a group of revolutionaries, calling themselves the Voiny, or “Warriors”, had formed in the Russian mafia syndicate. They essentially wanted all the older generations, such as my father, out of the organization so they could bring about the “new era.” Their definition of modern organized crime. They were dangerous radicals—terrorists, in my opinion—whose strength and influence were growing. My father was doing everything he could to combat them, but there was one small problem.
We had no idea who their leader was.
So far, none had been revealed and no individual was claiming the position.
“And me marrying some random American is buying protection?” I screeched. I was on the verge of hyperventilating.
Batya’s top leg started casually swinging back and forth, like he didn’t have a concern in the world. “He’s not some random American, zaika. He’s a very wealthy businessman who’s interested in buying me out of my stake in the company. It’ll be more than enough money to pay my creditors, as well as buy the loyalty of my allies.”
The way I saw it, they weren’t your allies if you had to pay them for their allegiance.
“But why do I have to get married?” I whined. “And why him?”
I sounded like a sullen child, but that was only because I kind of felt like one right then. Although, getting married to a man I’d only just met the day before was a far cry away from refusing to eat all the vegetables on my plate.
“It is only for a short time,” Batya consoled in a gentle voice. “You don’t need to worry, but the threats I’ve been receiving are getting more serious.”
My heart panged painfully in my chest at the thought of anything happening to my beloved father. My savior. He’d always known how I felt about mafia life. How I’d always feared for his safety and general well-being. Getting locked up in prison for the rest of his life was one thing. Getting plugged with a bullet by enemy fire was another.
“Death threats?” I croaked, hand going to my throat.
He waved me off, shaking his head. “You don’t need to concern yourself with them. But it has raised my concern for your safety. They could easily target you to get to me. I want you to stay far away from all of this until I’ve managed to secure the situation.”
“You’re going into spyachka?” The word basically meant hibernation.
Batya had gone into spyachka only twice before in my life, once when I was in secondary school in England and the second when I was in university. It essentially meant that his life was in danger, and that he was going underground until the situation was resolved. I was not to get in contact with him because it would put my life