Page 30 of Defiled Innocence

As I move further into the closet to lean against the wall, my knee flips the ledger over and it falls open. Cradling the files in my lap, I pull mine to the top of the pile and flip through the papers.

He’s put my high school report cards in here along with my transcripts from college. Other certificates from my school year are in here, too.

Random accolades like making the dean’s list all four years of college, the letter of recommendation I received from a teacherin high school to help me get into college, it’s all here like some proud parent would store.

My chest tightens. That’s what he was, really. After Mom died, he’d taken on her role even though he didn’t live with us. He’d checked up on me when I was sick. If the school needed to contact someone, they called him first. My father had been second on the call list.

I lean my head back against the wall and take a deep breath. He was always trying to protect me, so why has he delivered me into the hands of the Russian mafia?

There’s nothing here to help me understand. No letter left for me, no explanation of anything. I suppose that’s what happens when you die unexpectedly at forty—no answers are left behind.

I gather up the files and pick up the ledger. It’s time to really start going through his apartment. I can’t keep it forever.

As I lift the ledger into my lap, I catch a name scribbled in Lucas’ handwriting.

Dragunov

Scanning the pages, I see it written over and over with phrases like ‘approval pending’ and ‘redirect to third-party escrow.’ Why is Dmitri’s name in here? I flip to the first page of the ledger. My father’s handwriting is on the first page.

At the beginning of the ledger only his surname is written, but by the time I reach present day, his first name is being used and it’s all Lucas’ writing from the year my father died.

I shove up to my feet, carrying the files and the heavy ledger to his desk so I can get a better look at it.

Page after page is documentation of how entwined my family has become with the Dragunov family.

I’m no accountant, but it seems evident that my father and then my brother have been washing money for the mob for years.

The first date on the ledger is years after Mom died, but it already had a running total. There must be another log somewhere. I set the book down on Lucas’ desk and go about finding the first book.

It’s not in the same safe, but Lucas wouldn’t have just one small safe.

My father was an Alderman. If anyone found out about this, he would have been completely ruined.

It would have destroyed Lucas’ chances at building the real estate investment firm he worked so hard to build from the ground up. No one would have trusted him with the funding that they did if they knew he and my father had ties to the Russian mob.

Why would he risk so much?

My phone dances on top of Lucas’ desk as another text message comes through. Deciding to check it in a minute, I tear through the rest of Lucas’ closet trying to find another safe. When I find nothing, I open the first file box.

There are more files, but beneath them are more leather-bound books that look just like the first one I found. Flipping through them quickly, I find the first entry.

It’s dated a month after Mom died.

I sink to the floor, staring at the entries as though they can somehow speak to me. To explain what my family was doing getting mixed up with the mafia.

Our father was no saint. And not to speak ill of the dead, but the man is probably roasting in hell at the moment. He was as corrupt as any politician could be; why would he need to get money from the mafia?

My phone vibrates again from inside the office, pulling me out of my confused daze.

Climbing back up to my feet, I drop the ledger into an open box. They’re all open now, spread out around me in the closet, and a few have spilled out into the office.

I step over one of them on my way to the desk and snap up my phone as another message comes through.

It’s three fifteen.

Shit. I look at the time on my screen.

I was supposed to meet Dmitri at his penthouse for ourweddinghalf an hour ago. The judge is probably already there.

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