Page 45 of Stolen By The Bratva King

“I don’t think so, but I’m not sure.” I smile as I retrieve an envelope from my pocket and hand it to her. “Now, what do you suppose this might be?”

Emery turns the envelope over in her hands. It’s printed with an all-over design of mountains and fields in a style I know she’ll recognize.

I’ve killed men with my bare hands, built an empire from ashes, and stared down men twice my size without flinching.

But right now, I feel like an awkward kid hoping for a smile from the prettiest girl in school.

A gasp escapes her as she realizes what she’s holding. “You’re kidding.” She raises her eyes to mine, and I’m overwhelmed by the joy writ on her beautiful face. “I asked Dante, and he refused, but you?—”

“Yep,” I say. “The Ghibli Art Expo is traveling the country, but it’s only in New York for three days. I thought you’d enjoy it, and what my wife wants, she gets.”

Her smile falters. “It’s hard to relax when there’s so much suffering in the world. Or at least, it’s hard for me.”

Her words hit like a gut punch. She doesn’t say it outright, but I know what she’s thinking: how can anyone appreciate art and beauty when the world is falling apart? When there are children like Desi out there who’ve lost everything?

And what would she think if she knew how much blood was on my hands?

I hold her empathy, forcing myself to feel the weight. I’m a criminal, a man who’s killed others without breaking a sweat.

Is Emery the light that balances my darkness? Or would she despise me if she knew the truth of the way I live?

I can’t keep it from her forever. I thought a month wasn’t long enough, but maybe we won’t make it that far.

“Come on,” I say, taking her hand. “You’ve done all you can for now. Let’s go, or we’ll be late.”

27

Emery

The Ghibli expo is even better than I imagined. The exhibition space is crammed with stunning artworks, from mosaics to handmade ceramics, all depicting scenes and characters I love.

Leon insists on holding my hand, his grip warm, steady, and possessive, as if reminding the world—and me—that I’m his.

Now that we’re out in public together, the dream-like feeling has receded, and the weirdness is all too real.

My father didn’t help; I spoke to him on the phone earlier. He cried and apologized, saying he never knew how bad things were. When I told him Leon had said he’d release me in a month, Dad sounded relieved, like he was off the hook.

Then I asked him why he’d bet everything on Dante, and he had no excuse except that he wanted me married and my future securely tied up with my husband. That way, no one would try to get to his fortune by using me.

I was stunned into silence and hung up. How dare Dad reduce me to chattel, a feeble female of no value except as a bargaining chip.

No wonder Dante had the gall to mistreat me. Dad didn’t know how bad it was until Leon told him.

I’ve always known my father loved me but didn’t know how to show it. He feared the world too much, and I wonder if we’ll ever truly recover from the distance it carved between us.

I want the dad of my childhood back, the guy who carried me home from school on his shoulders and made my mom’s breakfast every morning.

I barely remember those days, but my heart still seeks my parents as they used to be. When all this is over, maybe we’ll be able to speak honestly, like adults, and spill a few home truths.

“You’re quiet,val’kiriya,” Leon says, taking my hand. “Are you still thinking about Desi?”

“Kind of. I have a lot of things on my mind. This whole situation is messed up.”

He nods. “Yeah, I know. Maybe this will help.”

We stop before a beautiful planter, terracotta but dipped in ceramic. It’s primarily black, but the details make me squeal in delight.

“It’s Jiji!” I say. “He’s the cat fromKiki’s Delivery Service.Although I love them all, it’s my favorite Ghibli movie.”

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