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“Tell me, Ludmila!” I didn’t intend to, but my voice was a loud roar.
“Yes.” I could see her reliving the moment and hated myself for putting her through it. “He strangled me in the living room. I was looking into his eyes gasping for air, and he whispered that I should hold on just a little longer, just enough for the skin to bruise.” She took a deep breath and looked away. “God, I’m so embarrassed.”
The fuck?
“What do you have to be embarrassed of?”
“I didn’t want you to see me like this!” she screamed in my face. “Weak and pathetic and half the woman I used to be! When…when I’m with you I don’t want to be helpless.”
A brave, beautiful Russian Queen. She was a fighter, ready to just take every blow in silence and not ask anyone for help, but I didn’t need to be asked. I was like an animal driven by just one thing – vengeance. Popov strangled her? I’d make it an eye for an eye, only he wouldn’t get out of my hands alive.
“No, doll.” I uncovered her neck again and kissed the damaged skin, so I could replace his touch with mine. “Never be embarrassed. It’s not you who made a disgusting mistake.” Yes, mistake, because mistakes get you killed, and Popov was on his way to meeting that fate.
After, I let her go and zipped my pants back up. While I was buckling my belt, Ludmila spoke to me with tears in her eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“Baby, I need you to stay here while I’m gone, ok? Just for a little while. I will be back to get you soon.”
“Get me? Enzo where are you going? What are you doing?!” She stopped me when I was halfway through the door.
“What do you think I’m doing? I’m going to find that piece of shit you married and cut his fucking hands off.”
“Enzo, stop.” But when I didn’t, she launched herself at me, falling down on her knees, crying and clinging at my pants. It broke my fucking heart.
“Ludmila, get up.” I would have done anything, paid any price, not to see her – or any woman for that matter – like that.
“Enzo, don’t. Please don’t. I know you think you can help me but you can’t. You don’t understand.”
“Ludmila.”
“It’s going to be worse if you do something stupid. They will die! All of them will die! Don’t do that to me, Enzo, please. I’m begging you. I’m fine.”
She could barely blink because her eyes were so full of tears. What the hell was I supposed to do? She was at my feet begging for me not to go. My mind was telling me to not let this go unpunished. What kind of fucking man would I be to let a woman be the victim of a pig? Not a Nucci. A Nucci would never do that. But my heart was trying to break out of my ribcage just to get to her. My Russian Queen. Alexei Popov brought her to her knees. Finally, I decided to turn to her, but I made an oath to God that what he did would not be forgiven. Ever.
I picked Ludmila up and walked with her back to the couch, holding her tight. I had to get to the bottom of this shit, gather all the pieces and do something.
“It’s alright, baby, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Enzo,” she cried.
“You said someone will die. Who?”
“I…I…”
“No more secrets, Ludmila. Give me a reason to not go out there and salute for Popov with a charged Glock.”
“My family.”
“What about them?”
“They’re the reason I married Alexei. I have two brothers and a sister, all younger. My youngest brother is only eleven.”
The only thing that was helping me contain my rage was the fact that she was still shaking in my arms, terrified. My killer instinct was fighting to get to the surface and take over, but I had to bury all of that. For now.
“Are you staying with him for money? Tell me what it is so I know how to make it better.”
“Enzo,” she cupped my face, “you can’t.”
