EMERY
It’s a short walk down the block to the brownstone Yasha and Viktoria share. It’s not hard at all to figure out which one is theirs. He has the same over-the-top taste as his father.
The mansion is painted white with gilded boxes in front of black iron windows. Five of them across, nearly twice the width of any other house on the street. A seven foot-tall iron fence closes in the front yard.
“Subtle,” I mutter. “Blends right in.”
The gate is open, so we step inside and walk up to the front door. I ring the bell and no one answers. But a minute later, I see Viktoria through the glass set into the front door.
I wave, but her expression is flat. She stares at us through the glass for a few seconds, looking us up and down. Then she opens the door.
“We don’t have any weapons,” Adrik says immediately.
Viktoria eyes Adrik warily. “Even if you did, I’m sure you wouldn’t exactly be carrying them in plain view.”
He laughs easily, as if this is just a normal social call, not a negotiation in the middle of war. “You know me well. But I’m telling the truth.”
“I guess we’ll see.” She turns to me and manages the barest, most insincere smile. “Nice to see you again, Emery.”
She's wearing loose green linen pants with a flowy white top. The material flutters around her, but unlike at the dinner a couple weeks ago, I notice a bump. She hides it well.
"Nice to see you, too." I smile back. "Can we come in?"
"I agreed to the meeting, didn't I?"
"Yes. But you can change your mind. We're here because you're allowing us to be."
She glances at Adrik like she can't believe he's letting me say all of this. But true to his word, Adrik is allowing me to lead this plan. He just smiles back at her.
Viktoria shakes her head and steps aside. "Whatever you're here about, I don't want to talk about it in the open anyway. Come in."
"You never said whether you had any weapons," Adrik remarks.
Viktoria closes the door and follows us down the hall into the living room. "And I don't plan to, either. Sit wherever you like."
I take a chair in front of the fireplace, but Adrik meanders around the edge of the room.
"I'll stand," he demurs.
Viktoria shrugs and sits across from me. Sitting down, it’s even more obvious she’s pregnant. Her belly looms over her legs, and she rests a hand on top as she gets settled.
“How far along are you?” I ask.
“None of your fucking business.”
I swallow hard. Nice start, Em.
“Alright, straight to business then.” I fold and unfold my hands in my lap, trying to get comfortable before I realize it’s pointless. I’m an exposed nerve.
Sitting outside the house for half an hour, I thought Adrik was being overprotective. Yasha wouldn’t try to stage a surprise attack in his own home. But now, sitting in his living room, I feel like he’s probably sneaking up behind me.
Whose stupid idea was this?
Oh, yeah—mine.
“Well?” Viktoria presses. Her eyebrows are high, her dark eyes expectant.
Adrik was right. Telling her the truth about Yasha is not an option. Not unless I want her to pull out whatever weapon she has hidden away and slaughter us both.
“Hi,” I say lamely. “Well, we called because… We’re here because…”
She turns to Adrik. “My God. Just tell me what it is! Your wife can’t string two goddamn words together.”
“We’re here because of her,” Adrik says, brushing his finger along a small crystal duck sitting on the built-in bookshelf. “This is her idea. I’m just here in case things get messy.”
“What? Like I’m the one who would attack you?” Viktoria scoffs. “You’re the backstabber here, Adrik. Not me.”
“Talk to Emery,” he growls. "And think long and hard before insulting me again."
Viktoria sighs, but I can tell she's frightened. She knows Adrik. He doesn't make idle threats. “I’m trying, but your wife won’t spit it out.”
“Yasha is going to get himself killed," I blurt all at once.
Viktoria snaps her attention to me, but Adrik doesn’t even turn around. He just keeps perusing all of the books and decor on Viktoria’s shelves. It’s maddening. I wish he would look at me. Let me know if I’m doing this right.
“What did you say?” Viktoria hisses. “Is that a threat?”
I shake my head. “No. It's not a threat. But if Yasha doesn't call off this war, it will be a fact.”
“Is that so?”
“Listen, Viktoria,” I say, swallowing nervously. “Yasha is starting a war he can’t win. He doesn’t have the manpower to overtake the Bratva. He’ll die trying.”
“He didn’t have a choice in this war. It was started for him.”
“What does that mean?” I ask. "Everyone has a choice."
“Like you don’t know,” she spits. “Your husband is the one trying to cut him out.”
I turn to Adrik, but he doesn’t respond. He really is going to let me handle this on my own. I’m not so sure it’s the gift I thought it was back in the car. I wish he’d jump in and help.
“Adrik never tried to cut Yasha out,” I tell her. “Ever. Yasha is power-hungry. He wants to lead, and Adrik won’t step aside.”
“What the hell do you know about any of this?” she snaps. “You’re a few weeks into this marriage, and now you want to play Bratva wife like you know the game?”
I sit taller. “I’ve learned a lot.”
“Oh, I’m sure you have.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s more likely that Adrik knew I wouldn’t listen to a word he had to say. He thought he’d cart you in here and let you parrot all of his ideas, hoping I’d be sympathetic to another woman.”
“I know you better than that, Viktoria.” Adrik finally turns around to face his sister-in-law. “And I think you know me a little better than that, too. Have I ever done anything to hurt Yasha?”
Her eyes narrow. “No, but that was only because your father was alive and well.”
“I have always been the first choice to take over once my father died. Always,” Adrik says. “Nothing in that regard has changed. So why would I cut off the little brother I’ve spent my life protecting and looking out for?”
Viktoria stares at Adrik for a second and then looks away. It’s clear she doesn’t have an explanation. Because there isn’t one.
Not one I can tell her, anyway.
“All we want is for this war to end,” I tell her. “But we can’t do that until Adrik and Yasha can be in the same room. They need to talk.”
“And you’re hoping I’ll help you trick my husband, is that it?”
I shrug. “I’m here for your benefit, too.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t know the first fucking thing about me.”
“I know that you’re pregnant,” I say. “And I know that you’re probably scared about what the future holds for you and your baby… for the family you imagined.”
Her eyes go suddenly glassy, but she quickly blinks away the tears. “I’d like you to leave.”
“Viktoria, please,” I protest. “You could call Yasha and tell him that you need to see him. Tell him you’re going into labor, something is wrong with the baby, whatever you want. But we could talk to him and try to settle this before things get out of hand. Before you or the baby get hurt.”
All at once, she stands up. “Get out. Now.”