Page 59 of The Pakhan’s Heir

“Yeva,” I say. “What are you doing here?”

“Lockdown,” she says. “Haven’t you heard?”

“No, I mean, what are you doing in here watching reality shows and…” I pause as I look over the mess around her. She glances up at me and gestures over it all.

“Behold,” she says. “Sloth in its natural habitat. If you take a photo, you could probably sell it as art.”

She chuckles, and that makes me follow suit. I sit down on the arm of the couch. “Have you been here all night?”

She nods. “I’ve always hated lockdowns,” she says. “Always. Even when I was a little kid. It’s like being grounded when you haven’t done anything wrong.” She grabs a cookie out of the box and takes a bite. “Only it’s worse now that I understand what it is. I had plans this week. When I was a teenager, that would hardly stop me. I’d sneak out of windows in the middle of the night, steal Dad’s car. It got so that he eventually started nailing my bedroom window shut and locking me in my room at night.” She laughs and shakes her head slowly. “I miss my youth. You know, I decided to take a gap year.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Really?”

She nodded as she finished chewing. “After Dad died, I really didn’t see the point of going back to school just yet.” She sucked her teeth. “Should have gone to Ibiza. Maybe if I had, all this wouldn’t have happened.”

“How do you figure that?”

She pauses, her fingers gently touching the cookies as they sit in the little plastic tray. “Ever hear of the butterfly effect? The wings of a butterfly flapping in America can cause a typhoon in Japan… or something like that?” I blink dumbly. She rolls her eyes. “Every little action we take changes the course of history. If I’d gone to Ibiza, Dad would have sent Alex or Rikki or one of his other goons after me. And if they’re there chasing me around Greece, then they’re not dealing with this mess. Imagine if it was Gedeon who he sent. Or even if he came himself.” She reaches for the half-empty bottle of beer at her feet and takes a swig. “He might still be alive. Maybe if Alex came, you wouldn’t have had to marry him for this fake fucking peace treaty.”

I didn’t pick up the smell of beer before now. Nor did I notice her bloodshot eyes and sallow skin. She’s completely smashed. “Have you been up all night drinking, Yeva?”

“So what if I have? It’s not like I have to drive anywhere. And nobody’s going to try and stop me.”

That was a valid point. Even if I had the balls to try, I don’t think I would. If I weren’t pregnant, I’d go get a beer myself and join her on the couch.

“And the worst thing?” she goes on. “The absolute worst thing is that I met a guy. A really nice one. Nice hair, nice ass… We were supposed to go on our third date last night. Canceling sucked, but telling him I didn’t know when he’d be able to see me again sucked even more. Guess that means we’re split up.” She looks over at me, her tired and dulled blue eyes looking me up and down.

“At least you’ve got Alex,” she says. “For better or worse or whatever. I mean, it might not have started off like a real marriage, but you two seem to be getting along…” She trials off, and I realize that she’s looking at me, studying my face. “You are getting along, still?”

I sigh. I probably shouldn’t tell her any of this. I should just tell her that everything’s fine and leave her to wallow in her own caged bird depression. I need someone to talk to, though. I can’t just keep this awful feeling bottled up.

“Last night, he told me that I’m free to go,” I say to her. “After all this is over, I, uh, apparently don’t have to be married to him anymore.”

She sits up slowly as she continues to read my expression. “And that isn’t good news… is it?”

My eyes start to burn and I shake my head. I clear my throat, trying to push back the tears. “You know what’s weird is that before all this, I wasn’t even thinking about marriage. I mean… I wasn’t really thinking about anything. I had, maybe, a year left of school, and I still hadn’t settled on a major. I couldn’t even imagine what was next after I graduated.” Saying that out loud sounds so much sadder than it sounded in my head. I sit with that for a second, then I say, “I guess I thought I’d just go back to my dad’s house and to my old life. Even after he told me about this arrangement, I thought, ‘Okay, I’ll do this, then eventually when our Bratvas are solidly in peace, I’ll just come back home.’ Isn’t that crazy?”

She shrugs. “I can’t judge you. I’m supposed to be at least part of the way through my master’s program and I’ve been spending too much time partying instead.”

“You’re going for your master's?” She nods. “In what?”

“Don’t laugh. You have to promise not to laugh.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

She sighs and says, “Librarianship.”

I have to cover my mouth to keep from giggling out loud. She rolls her eyes.

“Thanks for that.”

“I’m sorry, but… Librarianship? You?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” she asks, taking another swig of beer. “The funny thing is that I didn’t even want to go to college at first. The only reason I went in the first place was because my father insisted that I learn business and finance and all that. Guess he wanted to make sure I didn’t blow my trust fund… or my inheritance. Whatever.”

She looks back down at her pack of cookies for a moment, then she pats the couch next to her. “Come on. I’ve heard misery loves company.”

I sit down next to her and she offers me a cookie. I take it, the bagel I’d been holding onto forgotten on the coffee table. We watch the reality show for a few minutes. The two girls who were fighting a few minutes ago are now sitting and talking at a table on the balcony of some fancy, sunny place. I can see palm trees and blue skies in the background.