Page 102 of Koroleva

Nikita extended her arm and traced with her fingertip that perfect scar hidden under the ink of my tattoos.

"Did you get shot too?"

"Yes, though I was luckier than your brother. You don’t know how many times I've replayed that damn night, thinking I could have acted differently, that I shouldn’t have left him wounded and alone to face those bastards. It was a terrible decision that I will never forgive myself for."

"Did you make that decision alone?"

"No! I wanted to stay, but he insisted that if I stayed, we would have no chance. But I keep thinking that if I had bunkered down there, he would be alive."

"Or you both could have died. Yuri wouldn’t have told you to leave if he hadn’t seen it clearly, he was one to analyze every situation down to the minutest detail," she murmured thoughtfully.

"Be that as it may, I was drowning in guilt for months. I would go out and get drunk every day, I used drugs, searching for a relief that I never found. I ended up a total wreck. It was very hard and fucked up. I got stuck in a loop that was hard to break out of. Even today, I feel the weight of his death on my chest." I focused my regretful gaze on hers. "You once asked me why I agreed to marry you, why I didn’t oppose it, and I’m going to tell you now. I promised it to your brother."

"What do you mean? After he died? Did he appear to you or something?"

"No, it was the night of the shooting."

"I can't believe that! Yuri would never have made you promise such a thing; he knew well enough that my father would never have allowed it. A Koroleva with a Capulet? He wouldn’t even let you be friends!"

"I said the same thing to him. But he insisted, asked me to take care of you. He sensed he was passing away and told me you were likely to take his place in the organization, but he was afraid they wouldn’t give you the position because you're a woman. He knew they’d force you to marry someone, and he wanted it to be me."

"This is crazy."

My wife bit her lip, nervous.

"Is it? I've asked myself the same question these days," I muttered, looking into her eyes. "I know you don't know me, that you don't believe me, and I'd like you to give me a chance to show you why your brother made that request. Every day I spend by your side, I understand it more. Your brother knew me better than anyone, and you too, and he believed, without a doubt, that we were made for each other."

My wife stood up and ran her hands through her taut hair.

"Don’t mess with me, Romeo! If you start talking about love...!"

I also stood up and positioned myself in front of her.

"I don’t love you, but I like everything I see in you." My hand reached her cheek and I caressed it. "And I want you all to myself."

"What?!"

She exclaimed, her voice cracking.

"I just told you, every day I like you more, you’re not perfect, but something tells me you’re the right partner for me, and if we really get to know each other, maybe a miracle will happen and we can share a life together."

"Just a moment ago you wanted to sleep with that woman with the silicone breasts!"

"I did that to upset you. I haven’t felt like sleeping with anyone else since the day at the warehouse. When I was with Irene, I thought of you and that mysterious woman from La Marca. And I admit, it pissed me off to see you with the masseuse, and it makes me sick to think that another could have what is mine by doing nothing about it."

"I’ve told you more than once that I don't belong to anyone, I..."

The words died in her mouth when it was crushed by mine.

I kissed her, of course, I kissed her. With the contained desire of someone who knows he is not lying. With the need of the condemned who needs to be absolved. With the vision of the blind who does not see but feels.

Nikita jerked back and looked at me, piercing me with those green cannons.

"Are you asking for exclusivity?"

"Yes. At least, I want to try, and if not, we can talk about it again."

"I don't know, I've never..."

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