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“What isok—okrashka?”
Smiling, he steps close, a big hand cups my chin. “No, baby, say it with me: ok ro shka.”
“Okroshka.” My tongue doesn’t want to do what his does. It doesn’t sound like when he said it.
“Very good.” He swipes his thumb over my cheek. “It’s a kind of cold soup, the basics are the same—some vegetables, some meat. My brothers complain I’m too heavy with thekvass.”
“Kvass?” I taste the word on my tongue.
“If I tell you what it is, you won’t want to try it. What sounds good? There is coq au vin, beef stroganoff, a beef roast with potatoes and carrots, sushi rolls, and pepper steak. I’m sure there’s even more in the freezer or I can cook.”
“What’s coq—the first thing you said?” I’ve heard of it. I didn’t know what it is.
“Coq au vin is chicken soup with roasted carrots, pancetta, and mushrooms with a good red wine. It’s basically red wine chicken in French,” he explains as he opens a large round glass dish with a latched lid.
“You speak French.” It’s not a question, the way he said it was clear.
“Yes.” He nods. “Along with a few other languages. Spanish, Chechen, Italian, Turkish, and I can get by in German.”
Wow, according to most people I barely have a great grasp of English. “You are like, really smart,” I mumble. How could he possibly want me?
A rough hand goes into my hair and yanks me back to look up at him. Uh-oh, he’s mad. “You taught yourself to code, to create firewalls, to hack into some of the most vile rings that have existed and you’ve made more than a hundred men pay for their shitty deeds. You are as intelligent as you are beautiful. As beautiful as you are, it might get my dick hard, but it doesn’t stay that way for anything less than a fierce mind that tests me back. People are not perfect, they are perfect for each other. Do not create issues where there are none. We already have more than enough to get through.”
I bite down hard to keep the words in. I want to say them, but fear won’t allow them out. “Coq au vin, please,” I whisper.
Daddy misses nothing. Lowering his lips to mine, he whispers, “I love you too.”
Letting me go, he turns and takes the bowl to what looks like a drawer. It’s a freaking microwave. I’m so glad he’s doing this. I’d be eating whatever it was cold.
While the food is warming he gets out bowls, spoons, and brings a bottle of wine and glasses to the eat-in kitchen table.
“I thought it was cooked in wine?” I eye the bottle he opens.
“The alcohol is cooked away, leaving only the flavor of the wine. It’s why it’s important to use a good wine.”
I love how he answers every question I have exactly as he said. Nothing is stupid, there is no eye-rolling like some men did to me or even teachers when they had to explain something again.
Our meal is good, but I don’t think I want to have it again. The flavors of the soup are harsher than I expect. Daddy, without a word, gets up and warms up a mushroom and potato piroshki.
“Try dipping it in the juice. It’s not bad.”
I do and it’s much yummier. Over dinner he talks openly of growing up with his brothers. How he made the decision he didn’t want to run Philadelphia. His father always planned on three remaining in Chicago and three going to Philadelphia to run the family’s interests. Accepting Daddy’s decision, he left it to his sons to decide who would run Philadelphia.
They all voted on it. By pure luck Damien had a mind like a computer, like their father. With a look, Damien was able to add up numbers and spot patterns—a sought-after skill for making false books look real. So Damien became the family money launderer by default. Nikita showed the same ability as Damien, only younger. By the time Nikita was sixteen he was doing the books for their Chicago operation.
“Nikita, he was the one who was pouting? Who supposedly Ray wanted me to marry?” I try to remember which one of them was which.
His chuckle skims up my tummy. “That would be Nikita. He pouts a lot.” He sighs as he seems to catch himself. “I will admit we give him a hard time. As the youngest, my mother clung to him longer than she did the rest of us. Since my father hated upsetting Mother he allowed it. Unfortunately the things he did with us came later to Nikita, and he resented the closeness between me and Milos. Nikita and Damien were very close growing up. Maxim and Vasily were as well, so when they all left Nikita felt alone.”
“That must have been hard on him.”
A sigh. “Yes, at the same time Milos and I tried to welcome him in. We were aware he felt left out. There is a balance we fought for, between indulging him in a way we weren’t and attempting to correct the bad behavior for the indulging. Sometimes I worry we never found the right balance.”
“What are you worried about? Do you think he would betray you?”
He stiffens. “No, never. There is simply concern he is not as self-disciplined as he should be. His temper, and there are times he consumes to excess. We must be boring, unforgettable yet powerful in one glance. Anything else brings attention, attention brings questions. People start asking questions, they might find answers that could bring us all down.”
“I couldn’t find anything on your family. The only thing I found was from the FBI’s case against your family in New York. Even then they couldn’t substantiate anything—it was all from before your father died. And I looked so hard. It was only when I pressed on the Outfit, I could confirm the drugs, gambling, and everything else. Those were all rumors though, no one was willing to say more. I heard about you and your brothers voting on who would bepakhanin Philadelphia only because it was shocking to the Outfit. Everything was gleaned through communication with low-level Outfit members who weren’t careful.” I fight the exasperation in me at the memory.
