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Caterina
“You should come to the afterparty,” Luca says when the concert is finished, and the lights come up again. “I know Sofia will want you to be there, Caterina. And of course, Viktor, you’re welcome to come as well.”
‘I would hope so since I’m with Catarina tonight.” Viktor’s voice is still tight, rasping, and accented, and I swallow hard as I force myself not to look at my husband. I don’t know if I feel desire or disgust right now. Not being able to differentiate between the two is one of the more confusing moments of my life.
The afterparty is at a downtown wine bar, and most of the orchestra is there. Sofia is in the midst of them when we walk in, still in the black velvet dress she wore to perform, her dark hair swept up and her eyes shining with pure happiness. She has a glass of water in her hand, and as she talks to a petite, pretty blonde woman, she touches her stomach gently.
It’s such a sweet, automatic gesture that it makes something inside of me ache. I can easily imagine that being me. I think about the injection Viktor will have to give me later tonight and how much easier it might be if we did things his way—in one respect, anyway. For me, I don’t know how much easier it would be. I can’t let myself be hurt by another man who can’t ever give me more than duty and bargains.
Even if he isn’t hurting me directly, the way Franco did.
“You were amazing!” I tell Sofia enthusiastically when she makes her way towards us, hugging her tightly. “I’m so glad I was able to come and see you tonight.”
“I am too!” Sofia returns the hug, squeezing me before taking a step back. “Oh my god, Cat, you look fuckinggorgeous. That dress wasmadefor you.” She glances at Viktor, who is standing silently behind me, before taking in the dress one more time. “And that jewelry. You look like a princess.”
I can’t help but flinch inwardly at that, even though I know she means it as a compliment. “They were my mother’s,” I say softly. “I’m sure she’d be happy that I’m finding an occasion to wear them.”
“I’m sure you must be very proud of your wife,” Viktor says to Luca, ignoring both Sofia and me. “She played extraordinarily well.”
“I am, and she did,” Luca says with a smile, reaching for Sofia and sliding a hand around her waist. “But you’re welcome to tell her that yourself. She’s the one who worked so hard to be there tonight, after all.”
I look at Luca, surprised, and even Sofia has a glimmer of startlement on her face. Men belonging to any crime family aren’t known for being the most progressive, and for Luca to so pointedly hint that Viktor should be addressing Sofia and not him is unusual. I can see Viktor stiffen at the underlying rebuke, and my breath catches in my throat again. The last thing I want is for an argument to erupt here, especially, and ruin Sofia’s night.
But Viktor turns towards her, a pleasant smile on his face, though I can still see a hard edge in his eyes. “You played exceptionally well tonight, Sofia.Luca’sdecision to let you accept the invitation to join the orchestra was well-founded. Tonight would not have been nearly as lovely without you as a part of the strings.”
Sofia smiles, and I can see a tightness around her mouth, too. “Thank you,” she says simply, and I can see that the mention of Luca “allowing” her to play galls her. But she can’t exactly deny it—Luca was the one who gave her permission to accept. “It was more encouragement than permission, though,” she adds, and I glance at her. Her face is fearless; she’s clearly not afraid of Viktor, and I feel a sudden rush of affection for my friend. I remember a time when she was terrified of him, and of Luca and everyone else in the families too, but she’s grown so much since then. She’s truly flourished in her marriage.
I feel that small flush of jealousy again and do my best to push it down.
For the rest of the party, I stick to water as well, not wanting to give Viktor a reason to scold me. He drinks vodka while Luca sips red wine. The two of them discuss some mild business matters—a few shipments that they don’t disclose the nature of, business trips in the future. Nothing particularly interesting or even all that damning—I’ve always known that the mafia deals in guns and sophisticated party drugs. My father, Luca, and all the rest are hardly blameless when it comes to illegal business.
It makes me wish that I knew more about what Viktor really does. I’d heard rumors about the sex trade, about filthy parties and slave trafficking, but I can’t square that with what I’ve seen of Viktor. I know how easily rumors can spread—my father had more than a few about him over the years. Although, he successfully quelled them, usually through violence that put a swift end to it, and any others that might have sprung up shortly after. But I don’t actuallyknowwhat Viktor does—and part of me hasn’t wanted to ask.
If I’m honest with myself, it’s because I’m afraid some of it might be true.
It’s a little after midnight when Viktor suggests we head home. I hug Sofia again, promising to make plans with her soon for lunch. I feel a knot in my stomach as we get into the car. Viktor is very silent next to me as the driver pulls into traffic.
“I’m surprised Luca allowed her to accept the invitation to join, honestly,” he says, drumming his fingers on his thigh. “But I suppose after so much work on her part, it was best to let her get it out of her system before the baby comes.”
I look at him with surprise. “You think Luca will make her quit after the baby? Because she hasn’t said anything like that to me.”
“Why wouldn’t he?” Viktor glances at me. “She’ll have a child. Her job will be to be a mother and a wife, supporting her husband in his position. Not—”
“Not using her talents?” I glare at him. “Not enjoying the fruits of years of work and study? A child doesn’t take up every second of every day. My mother did nothing else, and there was still a nanny to make sure that she got plenty of ‘me time.’”
Viktor shrugs. “It’s very unusual, that’s all. She clearly has Luca wrapped around her finger.”
“Well, she’s lucky then.” I look away from him. “No girl born into this life expects to have a husband who gives a shit about what she wants out of her own life.”
I feel Viktor flinch slightly next to me, probably surprised to hear me curse. It doesn’t happen often. But he says nothing, and I can feel the space between us grow cold as the driver makes his way back to the house outside the city.
There’s silence all the way until we get back to our bedroom. He closes the door behind us, and I let out a breath, which sounds very loud in the close, dim quiet of the sleeping house.
“I might need help with my necklace,” I say finally, hating that I need to ask. But the clasp gave me trouble when I was putting it on this evening, and the last thing I want to do is break it.
“Of course,” Viktor says neutrally, walking up behind me and reaching for the clasp. His fingers brush over the nape of my neck as he touches it, and I repress another shiver, not wanting him to see.
He pauses, his fingers lingering there. “Are you truly unhappy, Caterina?” His voice cuts through the silence, low and gruff, and I go very still, startled by the question. I can’t help but feel that it’s a trap, which makes me even more uncertain of what to say.
