Painted Scars: Chapter 11

I look around the abandoned factory we sometimes use when setting up the deals, and curse. Three dead bodies lay sprawled on the floor, each one sporting a big red dot in the center of the forehead.

“What the fuck, Sergei?” I bark.

“They brought spoiled goods. What did you expect me to do?”

“To send them away, not kill them all. Damn it.” I turn to Dimitri and Pavel who are checking the crates on the floor. “Get their car inside. Burn everything.”

“The product as well?”

“Everything.” I roll over to one of the dead guys and have a look at his face. “Mendoza’s?” I ask and look at Sergei.

“No. Rivera’s but working on their own. Probably stealing the product from Rivera, mixing it, and offering under the table.”

“We don’t work with rogues, you know that.”

“I was curious what they had to offer. The price was good.” He shrugs his shoulders and lights a cigarette.

“Well, I’m glad you had your fun.” I sneer. “Don’t you dare pull shit like this again, you hear me, Sergei?”

“Yes, Pakhan.”

“One more stunt like this, and you’re done. The disadvantages of having you on the crew are running extremely close to exceeding the benefits. You get your shit together, fast. Find a bloody hobby or something.”

I turn my wheelchair and leave, with Pavel following after me. This mess is not what I needed today. If he wasn’t my half-brother, I would have gotten rid of Sergei long ago.

“Send him a hooker,” I say to Pavel when we get into the car. “He needs to let off some steam.”

“I already tried. He sent all of them away.”

“How many?”

“Six.”

“Try sending a male one.” I am pretty sure Sergei isn’t gay, but I couldn’t be certain with someone as unhinged as him.

“Yeah, that didn’t go well, either.” Pavel clears his throat. “He threw him out, then came to the club and broke my nose.”

“Jesus, what am I going to do with him?”

“Counseling might help. Maybe the doc knows a shrink who’d want extra money.”

“The shrink would end up requiring counseling after talking to him, Pavel. I don’t think anyone can help Sergei. He’s a lost cause,” I sigh and look through the window.

The bed dips next to me, and then I feel Roman’s arm coming around my waist and his body spooning mine. I love when he does that.

“You missed dinner,” I mumble into the pillow.

“I’m sorry, we had a situation. It’s late, go back to sleep.”

“Wake me up in the morning?”

“I will.”

He kisses my neck and clutches me tightly into him. Falling asleep never felt better, even with a headache.

“Malysh?”

“Hey,” I groan. “What time is it?”

“Seven.”

“Five more minutes.” My head is killing me, so I just cover myself with the blanket, go back to sleep, and dream about being in school again. But then the dream transforms. I’m having sex with Roman, and we are in the middle of the deed when a guy with a knife comes out of nowhere and stabs Roman in his side. I jump up in bed, looking around. Other than Brando, who is playing with his ball in the corner of the room, I’m alone, and everything seems normal.

Feeling like a train has run over me, I drag myself into the kitchen, set the coffee to brew, and go to the bathroom. Showered and dressed in jeans and a top, I take out a bowl and prepare some breakfast. The clock on the wall shows noon, which means I have to be at my manicure appointment in an hour. A girl should doll up for her husband’s business partners, but I’m too exhausted, so I call and cancel the appointment between two spoonsful of cereal. I’ll play a trophy wife some other day. Maybe I should find Varya and see if she has something for my headache.

The moment I enter the kitchen downstairs, clinking silverware and clattering pots pierce right through my brain. I guess preparations for tonight’s dinner are in full swing. Igor is shouting at Valentina and pointing at the stove. Varya is sitting at the table in the corner, polishing the plates, but I can’t stand the thought of subjecting myself to this chaos any longer. Roman probably has something. I leave the kitchen and head to the other side of the house.

I find Roman sitting behind his desk, its surface piled with paperwork. I never thought that being the head of a crime organization would be so . . . bureaucratic.

“Do you have anything for a headache?” I ask from the doorway.

“Cupboard in my bathroom.” He looks up. “Is everything okay?”

“I think I caught a bug. Nothing serious.”

Roman puts down the papers and motions me toward him with his hand. “Come here.”

“I’m fine.” I roll my eyes but go sit in his lap anyway.

“Do you have any other symptoms?” He puts his palm on my forehead and then on my cheek. “Take a pill and go lie down. I have to finish a few things here and then I’ll come upstairs.”

“I feel fine, Roman. It’s just a headache.”

He leans in and kisses me, and it makes everything feel a little bit better. Shit, I’m a goner for this man.

“Upstairs. Now, Nina.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” I kiss him quickly on the cheek and turn to drag myself back to my room.

The lights are off when I enter my suite. I got carried away with work and almost forgot about the dinner. Dushku and Tanush will be arriving in an hour, and I expected to find Nina getting ready, but it looks like no one is here.

I turn on the lights and only then do I notice her lying on the sofa, curled up under a blanket. The dog is sleeping next to her feet. I wheel myself to the sofa and reach out to touch her face. She stirs and slowly opens her eyes.

“Is it time for dinner?” she mumbles and straightens to sit up. “I need to shower and get ready.”

“You won’t be going anywhere. You are burning up.” I take the phone and call Varya, instructing her to bring a thermometer and Tylenol. “Lay down. I’ll get you some water.”

I head to the kitchen and bring a glass and a bottle of water from the fridge. Nina is down on the sofa again, her body curled up under the blanket and looking so small.

“I feel like someone chewed me up and spit me out,” she mumbles. “I’m sorry, baby, but I don’t think I can handle the dinner.”

Something pierces me in the chest upon hearing the endearment. It’s the first time she’s done it without playing the part for the people around us. She probably didn’t notice saying it, but it still counts.

The door opens behind me and Varya comes in, carrying a bottle of Tylenol. She sits down on the sofa and takes Nina’s temperature.

“Go get ready.” She motions with her hand. “The guests are arriving in less than an hour. I’ll stay with her.”

Tanush and Dushku arrive on time. I take them to the dining room and motion to the four seats on my left side. Tanush claims the chair closest to me, and his latest wife, who is probably his daughter’s age, quietly sits down next to him. I pity the poor girl. Even under all her makeup and tons of jewelry, I can feel how scared she is. Dushku’s wife is a different breed. Both taller and wider than her husband, she’s rumored to handle all of her husband’s financial matters.

Maxim and Dimitri are on my right, leaving the chair at my side empty. They know it is meant for Nina, and even though she’s not joining us, neither one dares to take her spot. My idiot of an uncle, who arrives last, doesn’t seem to have any sense left, because he heads directly toward Nina’s seat. Fortunately for him, he raises his head just before he reaches for the chair. When he sees the look on my face, he quickly backtracks and takes the seat next to Dimitri.

I nod to Valentina and Olga, who approach the table and start pouring drinks. We’ve had these dinners quite often so they know the drill.

“And where is your young wife, Petrov?” Tanush asks while nursing his second whiskey.

“My wife is no concern of yours.”

“Too bad. I was so excited about meeting her. To see for myself the girl who managed to nab the big bad Roman Petrov.” He smiles. “The things I heard, hmm . . . I wonder if she even exists.”

I look at the bastard and wonder if I should gut him on the spot.

“The food is here,” Maxim says, quite possibly saving the moron’s life. “Let’s eat, before the meat gets cold.”

Olga rushes forward, setting the big plates in the middle of the table, while Valentina runs around refilling drinks. There is a steak knife beside the wine bottle. I reach for it and move it closer to my plate. Maxim excuses himself and leaves the table, but I don’t pay attention to where he’s going with my gaze focused on Tanush. I have the feeling we’ll be replacing the carpets again after all.

The pills started to kick in some twenty minutes ago, and I’m returning to normal. My head still hurts a little and my throat is sore, but it’s eons better than this afternoon.

“I feel better. You should go downstairs,” I say to Varya who hasn’t left my side since she arrived.

“Roman said I’m to stay here until he’s back, child. I have to message him every twenty minutes with updates or he’ll come up.”

“I’m fine. You have a ton of work to do tonight.”

“If I go downstairs and Roman sees me, he’ll get mad. He’s entertaining two very dangerous men, and he can’t afford to be distracted.”

Varya’s phone rings. She reaches for it, looks at the screen, and tenses.

“It’s Maxim,” she says and takes the call. “What’s wrong?”

She listens for a moment and shakes her head. “Absolutely not. She had a fever the whole afternoon . . . Alright.” She extends the phone to me. “Maxim wants to talk to you.”

I look at Varya, confused, and take the phone. “Yes?”

“Can you come down?” he asks.

“To the dinner?”

“Not for long, but yes. Please.”

“Okay. I need to shower and change, though.”

“How much time do you need?”

“Thirty minutes. Why?”

“I can’t distract him that long. Can you make it in fifteen?”

“What’s going on, Maxim?”

There is a silence from the other end of the line, and then—

“I think Roman is going to kill Tanush, and we really don’t need that now. I need him to focus on something else.” He cuts the call.

I look at the phone, throw it at Varya’s lap, and run straight to the bathroom.

“You should have seen her, Leonid!” Tanush holds his hands in front of him. “Her hips were this big. I’m going to start manually approving all whores from now on. Can’t offer untried goods to the clients, right?” He hits his leg and laughs like a madman at his stupid joke while his wife cowers on her chair, her face getting redder by the second.

When he comes up for air, Tanush continues, “Maybe that’s why Roman rejected my daughter’s hand in marriage? I guess I should have offered to let him try the goods first.” He laughs again and turns to me. His face is flustered and his eyes watery.

I stopped counting his drinks after the fifth one, but I don’t need to know how much he’s had to see he’s wasted.

“Your daughter is seventeen,” I say.

“So what? My mother married at fifteen.” He leans too close to my face. “Did you try out the goods before marriage? Tell me, was she good or maybe your cock got blasted along with your leg?”

I’ve had enough for tonight. I take the steak knife from the table, where I intentionally placed it earlier, grab Tanush by the collar of his shirt, and put the knife under his throat. Varya is going to kill me, but I will quite enjoy ending the bastard.

“My husband’s cock works quite well, but thank you for your concern.”

My head snaps up. Nina is standing in the doorway and looking at me with one eyebrow raised. She’s wearing the short black dress, the one I said she wouldn’t be wearing for this dinner.

“You have a fever. Get back to your room.” I snap.

Tanush tries to wriggle free, so I press the blade more, just a hair’s breadth shy of it breaking the skin.

“I’m fine, honey. Can I join you? I see that you saved me a spot and I’m starving.”

Nina approaches, her heel-clicks on the floor the only sound that can be heard, and stops between me and the empty chair. After leaning forward to place a quick kiss on my cheek, she sits down.

“You must be Mr. Tanush. I’ve heard you own the biggest casino in the city. Maybe Roman can bring me one day and you could show us around, I’ve never been to a casino.” She smiles at him sweetly and turns to me. “Honey, would you mind removing the knife? I’m trying to have a conversation here.”

Tanush stares at her for a moment, then bursts out laughing. I slowly lower the knife, giving Dimitri a discreet signal to keep his gun ready, and let go of Tanush’s shirt. He’s still laughing. Crazy Albanians.

“I like her Roman! She’s feisty, this one.”

“Thank you, Mr. Tanush.” Nina beams and I shake my head.

“This is my wife, Nina,” I announce and send her an irritated stare. “And she definitely knows how to make an entrance.”

“Thanks, honey.” She brushes her hand over mine and turns to Tanush. “About that casino, how do you make sure people don’t cheat? Do you have cameras that watch the tables or . . .?”

Tanush listens to Nina chattering and answers her questions. She’s intentionally asking ridiculous things that make everyone snicker from time to time, keeping the atmosphere light. When she questions if the casino’s air vents are covered by cameras, everyone looks at her and bursts out laughing as she explains that casino robbers always get in through the vents in the movies.

She’s in her element, playing her part of a naive and slightly slow-witted wife perfectly, but I can see the bags under her eyes, which she tried to cover with makeup. It’s clearly time to announce the end of this idiotic dinner and send Albanians home.

When the door to Roman’s suite closes behind me, I exhale slowly and finally let my shoulders slump. I feel like shit.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” Roman says through his teeth, and wheels toward me until I’m standing between his legs.

“What exactly?”

“Where do I fucking start?” he barks, his nostrils flaring. “You coming to a bloody dinner with a fever. Or putting yourself in harm’s way. We were this close to full-blown bloodshed down there, and you walked right in the middle of it!”

“I’m sorry for distressing you.”

Roman grinds his teeth. He’s really mad.

“And you wore that dress.” He leans forward and grabs me around the waist. “You’re wearing that dress only for me from now on. Is that clear?”

I try my best to hide my grin. And fail.

“Alright, caveman.” I put my hands around his neck and place a kiss on his mouth. “You are sweet, you know?”

“I’m not sweet, Nina. I’m fucking furious.”

“Still . . .” I place a kiss on his brow, then another one on his hard jaw. “You are hot when you’re mad.”

“Are you trying to manipulate me?”

“Yes.” Another kiss, this time on the other side of his jaw. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.” He cups my face in his palms and slams his mouth to mine. “Get into the bed. Your temperature is up again, I’ll bring Tylenol.”

He is unbearable.

It’s been three days since the dinner with the Albanians and Roman is still treating me like I should be bedridden. I found his mother hen act kind of cute the first day, even though my fever broke and I was back to normal. Now I just want to strangle him.

“I am not spending another day watching Netflix, and you are not working from the living room again.” I poke a finger into his chest. “You will take your laptop and go downstairs to your office, and you’ll do it now. I mean it Roman.”

“The moment I’m out of the door, you are going to be up and working.”

“I need to finish four more pieces in four days. Of course, I will be working. You made me spend three days on a sofa.”

“You had a fever.”

“Three days ago!” I throw my arms in the air and stare daggers at him. “I am fine. Please, just go downstairs and let me work.”

“Okay. But I will be checking up on you. If I catch you missing lunch again—”

“Thank you, Jesus.”

He is following me with his eyes as I march to my work space and start prepping up my paints on the table next to the easel. I will have to buy more black paint, I am down to my last tube, since I used most of my stash on the big guy. A few more tubes of red wouldn’t hurt either. I just dipped my brush in the paint when I feel Roman’s lips land on the sensitive spot at the nape of my neck.

“You forgot something,” he whispers and buries his face in my hair.

“Oh? And what might that be?”

“A kiss.”

I drop the brush and slowly turn to find him looming over me. I don’t flinch, and there is no feeling of panic. Having him this close, towering over me, stopped triggering me a while ago. I can’t even pinpoint the exact moment when it happened.

“You are so demanding.” I cup his face in my hands and bring his lips to mine.

“I know.” He kisses me again. “Eat your lunch. Call me if you need anything.”

When Roman leaves, I immerse myself in work, stopping only for bathroom breaks. By lunch, I have another piece done. Brando is getting restless; he’s been running around for at least an hour before finally curling up in his dog bed. Maybe we could go for a walk and try our luck with getting into Leonid’s room again. The last few times I tried, there was always someone around.

In my room, I take the small red ball and the black device from the nightstand, and whistle. Brando jumps up in his dog bed, and as soon as he sees the ball, he starts running around my legs. Placing the listening device in the back pocket of my jeans, I leave Roman’s suite with Brando on my heels, and head into the west wing.

One of the maids exits Kostya’s room just as I reach the elevator and, carrying a mop and cleaning supplies, unlocks Leonid’s room and goes inside. Bingo.

I throw the ball toward the other end of the hallway and let Brando chase it for a few minutes. When I’m sure there’s no one around, I take the ball from Brando and launch it right into Leonid’s room. As expected, he dashes after the ball.

A mix of sounds start coming from the room. The maid crying out. Brando barking. Something hitting the ground. More barking.

“Brando,” I call, but I don’t expect him to come. When there is a ball involved, all his training vanishes. Very convenient.

I run into the room to find the maid cowering in the corner, holding the mop in front of her in a defensive stance. Brando is ignoring her completely and chases the ball below the small coffee table in the corner. I bend as if to get the ball and hit the table with my hip, which wobbles and tips to the side. A big glass bottle of liquor falls to the floor, crashing. Brando yelps and runs to hide under the bed.

“Get the dustpan and some rags, quickly,” I say to the maid and kneel between the bed and cupboard as if trying to get the dog.

As soon as she’s out of sight, I take the listening device from my pocket and look around. Most of the empty electricity sockets are in plain view, damn it. I almost decide to use the one next to the overturned table when I notice one empty socket located between the cupboard and the wardrobe. No electricity devices nearby. It’ll have to do. I reach with my hand, and I have just plugged the bug in when I hear fast-approaching steps.

“Come on baby, it’s okay. Come to Mommy,” I coo, reaching under the bed for Brando.

“What are you doing here?” Leonid says from behind me.

I grab the spooked dog and stand up to face Roman’s uncle, who stands at the doorway looking pissed.

“Oh, Brando ran inside chasing the ball and overturned the table. I am so sorry, Leonid. It won’t happen again!”

He looks at Brando with disgust on his face and motions with his head toward the door.

“Get that animal out of here,” he sneers.

I bend to collect the ball from the floor and then run out of the room.

Behind my back, Leonid mumbles, “Idiot.”

Smiling, I return to Roman’s suite.

Once inside, I let my lips stretch into a grin, take a bag with dog treats from the kitchen counter, and give Brando a double ration.

“Good boy.”