Page 9 of Capuleto

I lay down on the bed, unsure of how I should feel or act. Supposedly, having my brother back should have been a cause for joy, yet the bitterness of finding out that the people I loved and admired most had kept me in the dark was devastating

What had I been to my father and brother? Just a stumbling block that my brother now intended to polish into a projectile weapon? I didn’t like being used, not without my consent. I would have gladly accepted the proposal as an ally, not as an object.

I replayed the conversation with Yuri point by point.

And I felt rage as I became aware of how they had devised a plan behind my back. Would they have acted the same if I were a man? The doubt shook me, making me tremble with anger.

I took off the bathrobe and wrapped myself up to the neck. The feeling of being valued less because I was a woman, as if gender always incapacitated you, churned my stomach.

I had recently read a study where women were asked who their role models were; they chose both men and women in equal proportions. However, men typically named their male counterparts, occasionally mentioning a woman.

As if admiring women made you less of a man or meant becoming a damn failure.

What’s the issue? Can't there be a woman above you whom you admire? Is that seen as weak, effeminate, or cowardly? Is a man unable to feel represented by a woman?

I was tired, weary of proving that I deserved the place I held. And now I understood that I was there, not just because I deserved it, but because my father and brother had decided it so, because I was their damn ace up the sleeve. The bomb any country would want to possess to blow everything up.

Did they love me, or were they using me? What the hell was I?

Only they were aware of that meticulous plan which, according to Yuri, would lead us to supreme power. He spoke in plural, including me in his project, but he did so after having manipulated me to his liking, and I didn't like that one bit.

As soon as he finished his diatribe with eyes shining and full of glory, all I wanted to do was spit in his face and tell him that I was much more than just a bargaining chip.

The blindfold fell from my eyes. I had adored and venerated him like no other, would have died for him time and again, and now I felt betrayed, cheated, and violated on immeasurable levels.

Perhaps someone else would have applauded, amazed by how well everything was orchestrated, but I felt like smashing the baton in his face and telling him that the orchestra isn't made up only of the conductor.

I would have liked to celebrate his happiness with him, but I couldn't; it hurt too much.

I wanted to spit fire and burn everything down like a dragon. Yet, I stayed in place, as my father would have liked, who always scolded me for my lack of patience. I tried to stem the bleeding rather than adding more salt to the wound. Damn it, he was my soul brother! I needed to understand him, even just a little! Or I was going to kill him right there, with my own hands, and I would never forgive myself for that.

"Why? Why did you keep me out of the loop? Did you really think I wasn't capable enough to follow the strategy? That I would oppose the marriage to R, or something like that? Explain it to me because I don't understand." Yuri offered me a measured smile.

"Don't take it the wrong way, Kalinka. It wasn't due to a lack of trust." His voice was velvety. It was the voice that belonged to my dear and inseparable brother. Just for that, I listened. "Dad said that the fewer people who knew about our intentions, the better. The reactions would be much more credible, instinctive, and natural. I know you're a great actress, however, you can't argue that you wouldn't have handled my mourning, or the marriage, differently if you didn't know I was alive and that Romeo wasn't behind it." He might have a point, but I would have prepared conscientiously.

"I would have deceived them," I muttered.

"Maybe, I won't argue that. But even though R may seem like an idiot, he's not. He investigated you thoroughly, one slip and everything would have blown up. It took me years to learn the role and I didn't make a move until Dad considered it. Think about it, I played his best friend, but your role was much bigger and brighter. You had to become his wife, spending twenty-four hours a day with him. It had to be believable. Dad wanted Nikita Koroleva in all her essence."

"Just him? You could have refused."

"No one refused an order from our father. You know that as well as I do."

"You manipulated me!" I exploded.

"Don't be dramatic," he replied, annoyed. "It doesn't suit you. You are a sensible and cold woman who has always looked after the interests of the Bratva. You are our blood, and you know how important it was to end the Capulets. You've known this all your life. Power is above everything and everyone."

"Even above family?" He clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"Nikita..." he murmured regretfully. "Don't drown in a glass of water."

"I don't even drink water to drown." A laugh burst from his mouth.

"That's right, we only drink vodka." He refilled our glasses. His gaze sunk into mine, dense, sharp, piercing...

I didn't look away, I never did, especially not from my brother. He pursed his lips before speaking.

"I always supported you, even when father didn't want to educate you." That was true, and I was very grateful for it. "We were a tandem, chasing the same goal, and that doesn't have to change.

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