dangerous here,” he said. “Irina, you must go back to
Moscow immediately.”
I opened my mouth to protest but he cut me off. “No
arguments.” Then he turned to Mikhail. “And you will go
with her. Your name is all over the news. The police
want to talk to you. I told you you were getting your
hands too dirty! I will handle things here. You will return
when things have calmed down.”
I expected Mikhail to argue—New York was his territory.
But he slowly nodded. Some time in Moscow was better
than years in jail.
I finally found my voice. “I’m not going back to
Moscow,” I told Vasiliy, throwing a look at Mikhail. “I—”
Mikhail put a big, possessive hand on my shoulder. I
turned to snap at him but something in his eyes made
me hesitate. “If I could have a word with Irina in
private?” he asked.
Vasiliy sighed and waved us away. Mikhail ushered me
into the sumptuously-furnished drawing room. He
turned to close the door behind us. “Look,” I said as we
both turned to face each other. “I don’t know why—”
He swung and slapped me across the face. His hands
were like hams and he put all his anger and frustration
into it. I flew sideways, falling into the big leather
couch, my cheek blazing with pain.
“Shut the fuck up,” he said.
I slowly opened my eyes and stared at him in shock and
outrage. Was he crazy?! Vasiliy would—
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” said Mikhail. “You are
going to come to Moscow with me. In fact, you’re going
to move in with me. You and I are going to get to know
each other very well.”
And suddenly I saw it. How could I have been so naive?
“You’re going to do exactly what I say,” he said.
“Everything I say. Or Vasiliy’s going to find out that
Angelo killed Yuri. He’ll hunt him down like a dog and
torture him. You’ve never seen Vasiliy when he’s
vengeful. Your boyfriend will beg for death. And he
doesn’t have his mafia friends to protect him anymore.”
What? “What did you do?” I croaked.
“I sent photos of the two of you together to Angelo’s
bosses,” said Mikhail sweetly. “They’ll have pushed him
out by now.”
I opened my mouth to scream at him, but suddenly that
big, clammy hand was across my mouth, pushing me
back into the couch while my legs kicked uselessly in the
air. “I told you to shut up!” he said testily.
I could barely breathe. His big, flabby hand half-blocked
my nostrils and I couldn’t suck in enough air. I stared up
at him in panic. For all his being out of shape, he was
much bigger than me...and now he had something he
could hold over me like an axe.
“Will you be good?” he asked.
I nodded, tears in my eyes.
He released his hand.
“Vasiliy won’t believe I...like you,” I croaked.
Mikhail straightened his suit. “Not now,” he said. “You’ll
tell him that you’re coming to Moscow under my
protection. But over the next few months, you’ll start to
spin him a story: you’re getting to know me, you’re
starting to fall in love with me…in six months, you’ll tell
him we’re getting married.”
He leaned close so that he could whisper. “But actually?
You’ll be in my bed every night, starting tonight. I’m
going to enjoy violating his little princess in every way
there is, and I’ll teach you to fucking obey. I don’t really
care if you ever love me or not. But you’ll marry me into
Vasiliy’s fortune and you’ll give me a couple of kids to
seal the deal. Within a few years, I’ll run New York and
Moscow.”
“I can’t do it,” I said. “I can’t make him believe that.”
“Oh, yes you can, Irina. You’ve already shown me what
a good liar you are. You managed to string me along
while you were really fucking that Italian piece of shit. I
think you can convince Vasiliy of anything you
want...and you’d better, or Angelo’s going to die.”
We stared at each other. I knew he was right. I would
lie to Vasiliy and I’d do a good job of it, too. I had to.
The nightmare I’d always feared was coming to pass,
but it was far worse than I’d ever imagined. I was going
back to Moscow and marrying a gangster...but it wasn’t
just some suitor I didn’t love. It was a man who hated
me as much as he lusted after me, who’d spend every
night finding new ways to cause me pain. And I couldn’t
tell anyone, couldn’t complain, or the man I did love
would die.
I drew in a long, shuddering breath and willed the tears
to draw back from my eyes. I had to use every scrap of
Malakov ice to get through this. I had to wear that mask
like never before. “Is my face red?” I asked Mikhail.
“What?”
“Is my face red, you son of a bitch? Where you slapped
me?”
He slowly grinned. “Only a little. It hasn’t bruised yet.”
I stood up. “Then I should do this now.”
He didn’t try to stop me rising. He knew I was under his
control, now. He sprawled on the couch as I walked to
the door, his eyes on my ass.
I found Vasiliy in his study, looking at a map of New
York. He was already planning where he was going to
strike the Italians next: which businesses to burn, which
politicians and police to bribe or threaten to bring their
empire down. I remembered what I’d said to Angelo:
this was going to turn into a bloodbath without him as
leader...and now that had actually come to pass.
Why hadn’t I run with him when I had the chance? By
now, we could have been in the air, on our way to
another country. I’d given that up to try to do the right
thing and now the war was beyond our control anyway.
Vasiliy turned and looked at me. “What?” he snapped,
still leaning over the table. Then he frowned at my
expression and straightened up, turning to face me
properly. “What?” he asked again, his voice softer.
Just tell him. If he knew how Mikhail was blackmailing
me, he’d destroy him.
But not before Mikhail could tell him what happened to
Yuri. Mikhail would die, but so would Angelo.
“I’ve thought about it,” I said. “I’ll go to Moscow. But I
don’t want to be all by myself, in your house. I want to
go to Mikhail’s place.”
Vasiliy’s brow knitted. “Irina, you hate Mikhail. Don’t
think I don’t see it in your face, every time you look at
him.”
I took a deep breath. “I’ve realized I need to make
sacrifices. And I need someone who can protect me. I
might even grow to like him.”
He looked at me doubtfully. “I know I tried to push you
together. But I want you to be happy.”
I shook my head and pulled him into a hug. It was the
only way I could hide my tears. “I will be,” I said. It
horrified me that I could lie so well to someone I loved
so much.
But it was nothing compared to what I’d have to do
next.
42
Angelo
I walked. I guess I could have called a cab but I was
too broken, too emotionally wrung-out, to get my phone
out. The highways were plowed, but not the grass
beside them where I had to walk. The snow was knee
deep and, as the afternoon wore on, it started to snow
again. My leather jacket and the sweater beneath it
turned white but I didn’t even bother to zip the jacket
closed. The cold felt good. Numbing.
The fire that had always driven me had gone out. I’d
failed my dad—his territory might stay in Italian hands