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And by some stroke of luck, I’d been given the perfect opportunity to make it happen without having to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night, get off the island on foot and find a way to get all the way to the shipping dock. While Yuri gave me everything my heart desired, I never had access to cash, and certainly not his credit card. When he handed it over, I was still hoping we could go down a different path, but now I’d use it to my advantage.
Once I got back to Yuri’s mansion, I asked the driver to wait for me, that I had another big fare for him but needed a few minutes. He was fine with waiting and I ran inside, trying not to think of every wonderful thing Yuri and I did in our short time together in this gorgeous mansion. I didn’t look out the back doors at the courtyard, or at our canopied bed, but made a beeline for the items I’d put together and hid in my spacious closet.
I quickly changed into dark jeans and a black t-shirt with a gray hoodie over it to hide my light hair if necessary, slipping out of my expensive leather heels and into my comfortable running shoes. I put a change of clothes into my old backpack, along with my Florida ID and my Russian passport. Next I carefully put the homemade pipe bombs in a separate bag, wrapped up in our Turkish cotton bath towels. I thought I could crack the code to Yuri’s gun safe, but didn’t really want to steal the cab driver’s car or risk hurting him. I knew well enough that you didn’t pull a gun on someone in Florida unless you were fully prepared to use it, and I wasn’t. And since I had the unexpected boon of the credit card, I didn’t need to.
Taking Yuri’s SUV wasn’t an option. I’d never driven in the US and didn’t have a valid license, just a state identification card. It seemed silly to worry about breaking such laws, but all I needed was to get pulled over and have a curious cop find my explosives. Also, I was certain Yuri’s car had a tracker on it and I’d be found almost instantly. The taxi was the best bet, even though the ride could also be traced. I’d think about that later.
My mind was a whirlwind as I headed back to the car, looking as cool as possible as I directed him to the nearest bank. I took out the maximum daily limit on the card and then asked him to drive me out to the docks. He wasn’t happy to go that far, when there wouldn’t be any other fares there. He probably hoped I’d want to go back to South Beach. I offered him a cash tip from my fresh bundle of bills and he stopped complaining.
It was dark by the time we arrived and I had no real idea which area to go to. Staying low in the back seat, I had him circle the area. It was mostly deserted and as creepy as Theresa had mentioned, just a bunch of huge, stacked containers and desolate warehouses. I finally caught sight of someone—no one I recognized, but I decided to take a chance and had the driver let me out. He suddenly seemed very concerned for my safety, asking if he should stay.
“I’ll be fine. My husband works here.”
He didn’t believe me, but took his payment and left. I snuck around in the shadows, covering a lot of ground until I finally came upon someone I did recognize. I ducked behind the corner of the ratty old warehouse before Genno saw me. Hunkering down behind some barrels, it took a few minutes to catch my breath and stop my hands from shaking. This was it, this was really it. This was happening.
It was dark enough where I could creep forward enough to watch Genno begin to instruct some other men who wheeled crates into the warehouse. I had no idea what was in them—guns, paintings, drugs. I didn’t care. My father appeared, bristling with firearms and snapping orders, and then I caught a glimpse of Ivan with a big gun strapped across his back and a smaller one on each hip. I cast around wildly for Yuri, but he was nowhere to be seen. I hoped this was a good thing and he was out of harm’s way if anything went wrong. It took about a half an hour of nonstop loading the large crates into the building, but finally the men who carried them dispersed. The sounds of engines running and then growing distant made my heart start hammering again. In the time while I waited for everyone to finish up, I had lulled myself into a false sense of security.
I’d seen many awful things in my life. Violent things, real stuff of nightmares. I still had nightmares about a lot of it. I’d never actually done anything truly terrible myself though. Was I really going to set my plan in motion? I could easily throw myself on Ivan’s mercy and get him to take me home. Yuri would give me the silent treatment for a while, but my conscience would be clear.
Except, Yuri’s lovely mansion wasn’t really my home, was it? Just like Yuri wasn’t really my husband. Not in the way I cared about. But still, could I do what I’d been planning for so long? Now that the time was near, I wasn’t so sure.
In front of the warehouse, my father and Ivan were speaking. Genno leaned against the door, and one of Ivan’s men stood nearby, still on high alert. My father’s voice rose, shouting obscenities at Ivan, who remained calm under the onslaught.
I didn’t really hear the words, nor did they matter. It was my father’s vicious tone that had me plummeting into a crevasse of childhood memories. Every cruel name he ever called me, every punch, every ruthless punishment seemed to roll toward me like an avalanche until sweat broke out all over me and my hands were clenched so hard I left white half moons on my palms. Finally, through my daze, I saw Yuri, far off with a small group of other men. I would have recognized him by his proud stance alone and I wished for a brief moment that he’d turn around and see me. Even hidden as I was he’d sense me somehow and come and take me away from the things I couldn’t escape.
He didn’t. I had to escape those memories on my own.
Ivan waited out my father’s tirade and left, catching up to Yuri and the others. A few minutes later I was alone behind the barrels, still hearing my father grousing about something, this time to Genno. I was alone, with no home to return to. All that stood between me and my freedom was resolve to finish what I started. If I didn’t go through with this, I’d never truly be free. My hatred for my father was back and red hot, destroying any last qualms I had. I unrolled the luxurious white towels from each of my homemade bombs. I didn’t need to use the internet to find instructions, since I was certain Yuri kept an eye on my history, because I had seen my cousins and my father’s associates make these a hundred times before.
I waited until my father, Genno, and two of his men went into the warehouse, probably to gloat over their ill-gotten treasure. Or maybe complain about how it wasn’t enough, knowing Artur Orlov. As soon as they closed the door behind them, I gingerly held the two bombs to my chest and tiptoed up to the closest window, peeking over the sill and through the grimy glass. The two men I didn’t know were nowhere to be seen. Maybe they’d survive, I had no way of knowing. I didn’t feel good about the collateral damage, but everyone knew what they were getting into when they signed up for life in the mafia. I saw Genno holding a crowbar, about to open one of the crates. I despised him, but he was only a couple years older than me. That was a shame, of course, but he was certainly only going to become more of a monster the older he got.
I pushed on the pane until it tilted inward with a slight creak, then I ducked down and froze. When no one inside made any noises that they’d heard me, I stayed low and got to the closed warehouse doors, snapping the industrial strength padlock shut through the links of thick chain that was wrapped around the handles.
Tiptoeing back to the window, I peeked again, then dug for the pipe bombs I’d toiled over during the last few days, scared half to death I’d blow my own face off and burn down Yuri’s house. As if sensing the waves of my wrath, my father turned from where he watched Genno struggle to open the crate, his evil eyes meeting mine through the gloom. He opened his mouth to shout, but I tossed the bombs through the window, using every ounce of strength I had.
They landed with a resounding crash, the massive explosion seconds later sending me hurtling backwards. Glass rained down around me but miraculously I wasn’t hurt. I could already see flames leaping inside the building and the noise was deafening.
I scrambled to my feet and ran, slapping my hands over my ears, but couldn’t drown out the agonized screams that burned straight to my soul.
Chapter 17 - Yuri
The operation went smoothly and I left while Ivan and Artur were arguing about something. I didn’t care what, certain it was Artur being a pain in the ass as usual, and I only wanted to get home to Kira. My job was to be a lookout while the crates were being loaded into the warehouse, and that job was done.
I sat in my car, feeling conspicuous by the docks in my flashy red sports car, but there had been no time to go home and exchange it for the SUV. I took a few moments to decompress after the tense couple of hours, glad not to be wearing a gun anymore, more glad that I didn’t have to use it. I started to send a message to Theresa asking if she’d pop by the house to make sure Kira got home okay, but deleted it. It was time to start trusting Kira. I didn’t want to have any leftover tensions on me when I returned, but I was in a hurry to get back to where we left off. I still had a lot I wanted to say to her, and maybe we could salvage our romantic evening.
I drove slightly under the speed limit despite my impatience. The last thing I needed was to get pulled over for a traffic ticket. The best time to be hyper aware of laws was right after you’d broken a bunch of them. It gave me time to formulate what I was going to say to Kira as well, not wanting to screw things up and start a fight. Did I just burst out and tell her how I felt, or get her relaxed first and ease into it? She’d been pretty upset when I left her at the restaurant.
Squeezing the steering wheel, I turned up the music to try to drown out my worries. I had just been part of an operation that could easily have broken out in a blaze of bullets and had been completely unbothered. What was it about Kira that always got me so stirred up? Of course, I knew exactly what it was, and I couldn’t wait to tell her.
When I arrived at the house, I was surprised to find the place was dark and quiet. The cook had left already and the gardeners were long gone. Thinking Kira had gone to bed early since she was so angry with me, I quietly made my way upstairs, hoping to wake her up with a kiss and an apology for running out on our date.
She wasn’t asleep, not in the bath, and not in my office or the library. Pushing down my worry, I checked the balconies and the gardens. The back part of my property was pitch black after the sun went down so it was unlikely she’d taken the path down to the water, but I got in my car and drove around the long way to make sure. Just like I expected, she wasn’t there, either.
It was a little past nine thirty, not exactly late. I had told her to get a cab and go straight home, but what if she’d opted to stay on the beach for a while longer and lost track of time? She could have wanted to finish her dinner, perhaps have a few more drinks, or go shopping. I wasn’t panicking, but I was pretty close. It was shocking how quickly it put me into a tailspin not knowing where she was. Thankfully her father was going to be occupied with his new shipment for a while, so at least she was safe from him. But because of who my family was, there were enemies lurking around every corner. My brothers and I took it upon ourselves to always assume our wives might be in some kind of danger at any point.
Still, I kept it together as I headed back to the beach. The same host was still on duty and he informed he had called a cab for her and as far as he knew she got in it, though he had no idea which direction they went once they left the parking lot.
I went to the bars on either side of the restaurant and a few shops, but no one had seen her, even when I showed them pictures I pulled up from our wedding. I didn’t give up hope, because pretty blondes were a dime a dozen on Miami Beach, and half the people I asked were drinking, the other half preoccupied with their jobs. It was possible she had hung out for a while, realized how late it was getting and then went home. We crossed paths, plain and simple.
