Page 22 of Bred To Be Owned

“Watch your mouth. You don’t get in trouble for that here, but you’ll go home and let one slip.” I nudged her. “A little space?”

“Yes, Mitéra.” She rolled her eyes and moved over to her spot on the floor.

I waved Sophia over. She sat up, stretched, and then reached under Irini’s arm to help her stand. Irini would only eat small bites, but it was enough. It had to be.

“You never said what you did, Toullie,” Sophia chimed in.

We’d all handled Irini’s first marriage differently. I had hidden within my books, hoping no one would notice me. Kat had learned how to play the soldiers to her advantage. A quick touch on the arm. A well-timed smile. She was good at twisting them around her little finger, but Sophia was dangerous. At thirteen, she’d learned to listen before speaking. Soaking in any conversation that floated around her, she’d figured out how to use information for her own gain, playing the soldiers against each other.

“I tried to be nice and negotiate with Saint. I told him if his men worked security, I would pay them more than the regulars, but he told me no and laughed in my face. He told me they didn’t work for us, but if I wanted to pay protection, they would ‘look out’ for me.” Iwrapped a noodle around my chopstick and brought it to my mouth. “He irritated me. I looked into the property, and they’re squatters. It wasn’t hard to track down the actual owner and buy it.”

“That can’t be all of it,” Kat said, pointing her chopstick at me.

“It isn’t.” I laughed. “Páteras’ lawyer served them an eviction notice. The gang tried to intimidate me the day they received it. Flashing around guns, like we’re not exposed to them every day. Saint said some derogatory things, and I told him he didn’t want trouble with Páteras. I reminded him who I was, and told him if he didn’t clear out, I’d make sure he didn’t have a choice. He heeded the warning, and I’ll turn the house into a 24-hour coffee shop.”

“Why did the guards say the Russians raided the house, killing a few of the men and putting the fear of God into the rest?” Sophia ate as if she hadn’t dropped that nugget of information.

“What are you talking about?” Setting my container on the table, I focused on the top of her head. She was trying to ignore me, but it wouldn’t work. “Soph,” I chided her.

“Fine,” she huffed. “They said that Angelo was in trouble because the Russians had stepped in to protect you. It should have been his job, and he was busy at the brothel. What’s a brothel?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Kat cackled.

“You either,” I said, directing the words right at Kat. “I don’t know. It makes little sense. How is Angelo leaving the property when he always stands at the front door?” I went to pickup my chopstick, and that was when the thought hit me. “Unless the Russian is there.”

“When was the last time you saw the smoke show?” Kat asked.

“Last week. I’m not sure what day it was, but he sat with me as I picked out the glassware.”

“You know nothing.” I could have sworn that Irini had spoken. My head instantly snapped to look at her.

“Irini?” I begged her to speak again.

She never raised her head, but there was a whisper that lingered in the room. “You know nothing.”

“I brought a movie. It’s a rom-com. You like those, Irini.” Kat started talking to fill the silence, but she caught my eye, and we shared a look. The Russian had taken care of a problem that my father wouldn’t address.

***

Ilya, the Russian

“She actually fucking did it,” Adrik said, standing next to me, swirling the bourbon in his glass.

“Yeah, she did. Did you doubt her?” I asked him, watching the people. There was a bridal party sitting at one table, taking shots. The dance floor was packed, and there were random people sitting or standing around the open space.

“That’s like asking if a zebra has stripes. Of course, I doubted her, and I wasn’t the only one.” Adrik surveyed the room. “No one wanted to tell you this was a bad idea. There were many conversations in the shadows that said all the prep we did for this moment might have been for naught.” He took a sip from the glass.

“No, I understand. When I first saw this place, I couldn’t believe the don had set her up like that either. It was the one thing we didn’t account for, but it worked out alright. The kitchen is going to be profitable, and now she’ll start on the coffee shop across the street.” I smacked him on the arm.

“You got lucky. I don’t like what she makes you do. How many more times are you going to clean up her mess before your luck runsout?” He hit me on the arm hard enough that I swayed before walking away.

I let out a dry chuckle as I went back to people watching. He was right. I had gotten lucky. If Toula hadn’t been so smart or hard working, this place would have failed miserably. I was proud of my malenkaya lisichka. If Irini didn’t survive and Toula became my wife, the Russians would have no issues with the tradeoff. They would only see it as a positive, and I’d have to put boundaries in place to make sure they didn’t overwhelm her with their money-making schemes.

Walking around, I took in the details, nodding to associates that I knew along the way. The music was too loud to carry on conversation on the main floor, which suited my mood. I didn’t feel like engaging. This wasn’t about me, and I wanted to bask in the glow of Toula’s success.

I’d been here plenty of times, but the details appeared different with the lights turned down. The glass chandeliers sparkled every time the strobe lights hit them, bouncing bright lights off the steel walls of the warehouse.

A voice came from over my shoulder. “Isn’t it past your curfew?”

---