Page 22 of Kadra: The Unfeeling

No one.

Nothing.

Oh, keep lying to yourself…

“Will he be alright?” I blurt, surprising myself. See… you do care. Always have and you always wi– “I mean,” Clearing my throat, I continue. “Can I send him on his merry way back to New York anytime soon?”

As always Adryel Croix never breaks a smile. I guess that’s why he’s the one I call whenever there is an emergency I don’t want anyone to know. He is discrete and very efficient. That’s all I need. He’s not only handsome but one of the smartest people I know and still he doesn’t hold a candle to the Russian currently fighting for his life.

“It’s all up to him now.” Adryel rises from the bed right after placing one last bandage on Vitali and walks towards me. “He’ll need a lot of rest and to take it easy so the stitches won’t open. He needs to heal.”

Chapter 6

VITALI

WHISKEY EYES

“I am her shield and

her sword.” – V

Vitali - 12

Winter in New York City is not as wonderful and magical as most would have you believe. Yeah, maybe it is magical for some. For the ones who have a warm roof over their heads and food that doesn’t come from the leftovers of someone else’s trash. There is nothing magical about living on the streets and having to fight every second of the day to survive. Fight just to be able to see the next day.

That shit is not fun and it sure as fuck isn’t magical.

Magic doesn’t live where I’m from.

It never has.

My stomach makes a rumbling sound and it starts to hurt but I don’t dare complain or tell Papa that I’m hungry and that my stomach hurts. It would do me no good. My little brother, Mikhail, made the mistake of telling our father that he had stomach pains for the lack of food one time and it was the last time any of us ever went to our father with our problems.

Vissarion Solonik hates weakness and most of all in his sons. He likes to remind me and my brothers what happens to weak men when they complain, especially on the cruel streets of this city.

Papa never uses his fists to make us strong, no.

We have the streets for that.

The hunger and darkness that consumes us whenever Papa is not there to fight off the monsters is what made us strong at a young age. We had to learn to stand up for ourselves and fight the monsters ourselves. “L’venok, let me tell you what will get you through this life.” My father leans back against a wet concrete wall as we watch civilians walking by with their expensive coats and hands full of shopping bags and Christmas presents no doubt for their loved ones. “Show me a man in love, and I’ll show you his greatest weakness.”

I frown watching the fire that was made from trash to keep us warm. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“A fool in love will put his woman first before anything else, even himself.” Papa reaches forward and warms his hands near the fire. “You and your brother will have a lot of enemies, son. And every one of them will know this. Don’t make my mistake.”

“Do you regret her? Do you regret Mam?” I dare ask him, wanting to know. Papa doesn’t talk much about her and we were all young when she was murdered by the same enemy who betrayed Papa, stealing his empire and leaving him no choice but to flee Russia and come to the States with nothing to his name.

Our father was Pakhan. The most powerful man in the country even more than the president and now here, in the States, he’s no one, but not for long. I have no doubt that he will rise from the ashes of his blood’s betrayal and will be on top once again. Here in this foreign country with customs and a language that are not our own.

“I do.” Anger and sadness flash in his eyes as silence falls between us. Papa looks thoughtful before saying. “But none of that matters. You boys will have what others want. What every Russian man desires.”

“Love? Money?” I questioned.

“Love?” Papa scoffs. “Power and a legacy in this great country.” Papa looks straight ahead as if his head is somewhere else while speaking to me. “Love means nothing, Vitali. Don’t be a damn fool.” He hisses.

My eyes drop to the fire once again, and I think about his words. “That won’t be an issue. I don’t plan on ever falling in love,” I say, looking away from the fire and looking up at him. I don’t think my father was weak but he did fall in love with my Mam and that made him vulnerable.

The corners of his lips turn up into a sinister smirk. “Good.” Papa nods pleased with my answer. “Women are disposable, Vitali. Do not ever let one make you vulnerable.” Papa hisses as if he’s reliving a not-so-pleasant memory. A moment of silence passes between us before he finally gets out of his head. “Although, women are useful for a few reasons.” His eyes meet mine. “You’ll figure those out later in life.”

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