You Don't Know Me (The Russian Don 3)

‘Do you know that I was the first one to call you by the nickname solnyshko?’ he asks softly.

I shake my head, confused by his sudden change of demeanor.

He smiles. ‘So no one told you the story. Well, I called you that because I was at your birth and I saw your head—you were born with a full head of gold hair—appear out of that bitch’s cunt and, I swear, it looked like the sun coming out of the depths of night. So I called you little sun. My little sun. Until today you have been my perfect little sun. You can ruin it all in one stroke.’

‘I just—’

His powerful hands reach out suddenly and grip my shoulders. I am unable to stifle the scream of shock and fright. In an instant he pulls me forward until my face is only inches from his. I smell the coffee he drank on the plane, the cigar he smoked on the way home.

‘Think about the people you care for, little sun. They all depend on you to survive. This one selfless act could mean so much for their future … existence.’ He pauses and takes stock of the reaction I am unable to conceal. He reminds me of a snake, extending its tongue to sense the vulnerability of its prey.

I understand that he has left the most important words unsaid. ‘Papa, I can’t—’

‘If you defy me, Tasha, you will leave me no choice. Those you love the most will suffer the consequences.’

I gasp at the unveiled threat. ‘What are you saying?’

‘Who do you love most in this world, solnyshko?’

The loving nickname on his lips suddenly sounds grotesque. Baba, Mama … Surely, he couldn’t be referring to them. I shake my head in disbelief.

‘I’ll rub them out one by one.’

His words are like a dagger to my heart. I choke back my growing sense of helplessness. I have to free myself from his clutches. He could be bluffing. He must be. ‘I’m your daughter. How can you threaten me like this, Papa?’

‘I do what is necessary to get what I want.’

‘Only a monster could be so cruel,’ I cry tearfully.

‘What do you know, you silly girl? You’re nothing more than a spoilt brat.’

‘I’m not a spoilt brat.’

His eyes flash with annoyance. ‘No? You agreed to this alliance. And now after you have turned everybody’s life upside down you have changed your mind. You are an Evanoff and we keep our word. Nothing will stop this alliance. You should know I mean every word when I tell you no one you love is safe. No one. Unless you submit to my wish.’

I open my mouth and my father lifts his hand and waves me away as if I have already taken up too much of his time.

‘By the way, don’t imagine that I do not know about your visits to that bitch. Tell your grandmother if she throws the rope ladder for you again to go visit her, I’ll send her back to Russia with only the clothes on her back.’

My jaw drops with shock. Would Papa really do that to his own mother? Impossible. Yet, I feel chilled to the bone. My mother was right. How could I have been so oblivious to the fact that the man who provides everything for me and protects me day and night is completely heartless.

There is no point in even trying to talk to him. He loves no one. He can’t. He is unable to. He is like the spoon or the table.

Like that he feels nothing.

Twenty-seven

Tasha Evanoff

Summertime Sadness

‘Did you ever say goodbye to someone knowing it would be forever?’

-Tasha Evanoff

I dress in red. My mother says blondes should always dress in red when they want to be sexy. I stand in front of the mirror but I don’t look sexy. I look pale and washed out. Blusher. More blusher. That’s what I need. I pick up the blusher brush and dust color on the apple of my cheeks.

And what of your eyes? What can be done with sadness in them?

I turn away from the mirror.

I bend down and kiss Sergei. ‘This is my last time so no guilt trips from you, you hear?’ I tell him.

He whimpers and I pull him into my arms for a hug. He remains very still and when I pull away he cries.

‘Be a good boy and wait for me, okay?’

I stand and he stands too. To my surprise he barks at me.

‘Shhh … no barking. Everybody is sleeping,’ I say, quickly getting back down on the floor and hugging him tightly once again. I understand why he is like this. He is picking up on my distress.

‘It’s okay,’ I coax. ‘I’m fine. I will be fine. This feeling will pass. Everything can be forgotten. I’ll be back in the morning and we’ll go walkies in the park. Be a good boy for mummy, okay?’