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“We’re exploring a few alternatives,” Konstantin answers again in Nikolai’s stead. “Someplace remote would be best, as far from here as we can manage. That way, Nikolai can spend some time with his son, get to know him without interference.”
I blink at Nikolai. “But what about the business? How will you run it if you’re not in Moscow?” There’s much that can be done remotely, I know, but a lot of what my brother does relies on personal contact, on the handshakes and the dinners and the hush-hush deals made behind closed doors in carefully secured rooms swept for bugs.
“That’s what we’re here to discuss,” Nikolai says. “I’ve thought about this long and hard, and I only see one alternative: I have to step down temporarily.” He looks at Valery and Konstantin. “The two of you will divide up my responsibilities among yourselves.” He glances at me. “Unless, Alina, you would…?”
“No, no, I’m good,” I say hastily. “Count me out.”
Nikolai nods, unsurprised. My lack of interest in the family enterprise is well known. “Okay then.” He turns to Valery. “I’m thinking you oversee the business overall, while Konstantin gets free rein with all the tech-related ventures.”
Valery’s eyes gleam coolly. “That works for me.”
“And me,” Konstantin says calmly. “I’ve already put some things in motion. For now, we need to figure out how to penetrate the security of the Leonovs’ compound and get Nikolai’s son out. I have a few ideas in that regard.”
* * *
I’m stillin a state of shock by the time I get home from the meeting, a state that persists as days turn into weeks while my brothers actively work on their plan to get Miroslav—or Slava, as everyone calls him—away from the Leonovs. It’s not an easy task. Boris Leonov resides in a suburban mansion an hour’s drive from Moscow, which might as well be a military fortress, and that’s where the boy is staying.
Slava, nottheboy, I correct myself. Even now, two weeks later, I’m having trouble thinking of the child as being a living, breathing person.
A person who’s as much my nephew as he is Alexei’s.
Each time I think about that, something inside me tightens, a strange ache filling my chest. We’re now joined by blood, Alexei and I. Bonded in a way that supersedes any betrothal contract. The only way this bond would be stronger is if Slava were ours, but he’s not.
He’s Nikolai’s.
I didn’t go back to Switzerland after the meeting, even though I could have. I’m not needed here in Moscow. All the planning is unfolding without me, though I insist on being informed. That’s how I know that Nikolai has purchased an old estate in the beautiful, remote mountains of Idaho—an estate that he’s renovating and turning into his own fortress with furious speed. The goal is to extract Slava as quickly as possible, but it’s just as important to do it right, to make sure that the Leonovs have no reason to suspect us and to have a hideaway ready for when the child is finally in our hands.
To help with the suspicion bit, I flit about town like a social butterfly. I dress up and go to parties, attend operas and ballets. I smile, laugh, and dazzle friends and opponents alike, all the while trying to process what all of this means, how our lives are going to change… how Alexei is going to react to losing his nephew so soon after his sister’s death.
I don’t know why I care about that. It doesn’t make sense. I know what the Leonovs are like, especially Boris, the boy’s grandfather. Slava will be better off with us, messed up as we are, and kidnapping is the best way to accomplish that. If Nikolai tries to go through the legal channels to claim his paternal rights, the Leonovs will hide Slava away, make him disappear. That’s what we would do in their shoes. So this is the right move, the only move if we don’t want Nikolai’s son raised by a man known to be a monster.
Logically, I know all this. I’ve discussed it with Pavel, Lyudmila, and my brothers ad nauseam. However, logic takes a back seat whenever I try to imagine how Alexei will feel once our plan comes to fruition…. how he must feel already, grieving for his sister. It’s a thought that wakes me up at night and snakes into my mind a dozen times each day, as intrusive and relentless as Alexei’s men who keep following me.
That thought is why I agree to attend Natasha’s charity gala, even though Alexei is supposed to be there.
* * *
My knees shakeand tension bands my temples as I enter the ballroom and survey my surroundings. Everything glitters—the diamonds in women’s earlobes and on their fingers, wrists, and necks, the crystal chandeliers, the stainless-steel trays deftly carried around by uniformed waiters, the mirrors lining the walls and making the event seem that much grander. I glitter too. My blue silk dress is encrusted with tiny crystals around the bodice; my smooth, shiny updo is decorated with a diamond pin.
For a second, I’m tempted to turn around and go home, to turn on my computer and disappear into the neat, predictable world of code. Yesterday, to prevent myself from obsessing about tonight’s event, I pulled out my old Computer Science course materials, the ones I haven’t looked at since my first semester at college but kept for some odd reason. Immediately, I got sucked back in. In some strange way, it felt like coming home, and I’m itching to get back to it, to try my hand at writing some simple programs now that working on a computer for an extended period of time doesn’t make my head feel like it’s exploding. In fact, coding seems much safer, headache-wise, than being here tonight, as I can feel the tension in my skull growing, threatening to transform into the familiar pain.
I should leave. Coming here was a mistake, a stupid impulse I should’ve squashed.
I turn to go, but Natasha has already spotted me. She waves and hurries over, and I put on a bright smile. Because that’s what I do. I smile, I glitter, I pretend. Nobody, not even Natasha, knows my history with Alexei, or that I avoid him any way I can. As I should be avoiding him tonight, yet here I am, willfully putting myself in his proximity.
Maybe he won’t show. That’s all I can hope for right now.
Natasha and I exchange air kisses, and before I can make any kind of an excuse, she drags me into a circle of people, all of whom are eager to talk to me about tonight’s cause: providing educational technology to Russia’s rural areas. Every ruble donated will be converted into laptops, tablets, and other key learning tools for children from communities that may or may not have indoor toilets and running water.
It’s a noble cause, and I write a big fat check from my personal account for the venture, in addition to promising that each of my brothers will do the same. Then I’m technically free to leave and I’m about to do so quickly, since I still haven’t spotted Alexei, but Natasha intercepts me yet again, this time to introduce me to a few of her friends from college.
By the time I extricate myself from that conversation, a half hour has gone by, and I’m desperate to escape. Each second that ticks by puts me closer to Alexei’s arrival. Unless he won’t show, but I can’t count on that. I have to go, right now, before my stupid impulse leads to—
And there he is.
Our eyes meet as he cuts through the crowd like a shark through water, heading directly for me. My lungs expand, taking up the entirety of my chest and squeezing my heart into nothingness. I stop mid-stride, my feet welded to the floor, and watch helplessly as he comes toward me, a sardonic half-smile on his lips.
Why? Why did I come here? How could I have been such an idiot as to think he needed me in his grief when—
