Page 22 of One of Them

I turned my attention to the only other woman present. Alisa. I caught a brief glimpse of her earlier. She walked by the bar with such ease, I had to focus on her feet to convince myself she wasn’t floating. Born to walk the runway, stuck between strong-headed gangsters. Her dress was a stunning white with lace sleeves. Her golden-brown hair, a family trait, cut shoulder-length, was perfectly styled. The bride looked every bit ready for the occasion.

She appeared well-suited for the role of the wife of their leader, judging by her looks, which is exactly what they did. What we all gathered here for: to judge and deem her worthy of the position.

“Alisa, right? Great to meet you. I’m Taya,” I spoke softly, ignoring the eyes on me. “I work with Ilya, but you have nothing to fear.”

She seemed to appreciate the change of topic just as much. Alisa revealed her perfect smile, gracefully greeting me back. “Hi, Taya.”

When silence filled the dining room, Malek addressed the boss. “Pakhan, you called the meeting.”

It was strange to hear the title come from his mouth.

Ilya didn’t move, didn’t look his way. Instead, he spoke to no one in particular. “With the wedding approaching, I want to go over the changes this union will bring.”

“Please,” Andrei encouraged him respectfully. The man had class, unlike his brother, who still threw occasional glances my way.

“Now that I’m marrying your sister,” Ilya addressed the Galkins, “Andrei will become my third in command. After Malek.” His eyes flashed to Malek briefly, almost daring him to intercept, before settling on the rest of the Galkin siblings. “Since I’ll need Andrei here, you and your brother will take over the responsibilities in Philadelphia.”

“Gladly,” Luka, the youngest of the men, answered.

“There is also the matter of planning,” Ilya said, moving down the list. “I expect traditions to be upheld. We’ve discussed this, so Alisa knows what needs to be done.”

This version of Ilya was new to me. I first saw him as a friend. I heard his command as a Pakhan. But whoever this was wasn’t him. I wondered if Malek’s presence affected him more than he let on.

Over the years, I learned how to read people. Ilya was the very definition of a brat. Everything fell right into his lap, and it still wasn’t enough.

Despite his position, he questioned himself a lot. The biggest fault was that he wasn’t particularly good at hiding it. It wasn’t my place to say, so I took a mental note and refrained from commenting.

With a silent plea to Ilya for permission to interrupt, Alisa addressed me. “We thought you could help with planning.”

Me? Event planning? What’s next? Knitting?

“I know nothing about weddings,” I admitted.

Alisa’s big green eyes pleaded for the lifeline, but it wasn’t just that which convinced me to agree. A part of me awakened, jumping at the opportunity to do the mundane tasks I never got to do.

“Okay,” I agreed.

Flexibility. Another thing I was good at. After everything I’d put myself through, I was sure a couple of decisions about food or whatever else the planning entailed wouldn’t break me.

“We would also be honored if you and Maxim agreed to be our witnesses,” Alisa added.

Upon hearing his sister’s words, we both shared a look, equally confused.

Surely, they were more qualified candidates, some even sitting at the table.

On top of that, I wasn’t sure we should even be alone. I already had a couple of sweet moments in mind, imagining myself making his eyes pop out of his head for that wink.

“Why not Malek?” I whispered discreetly to Ilya sitting next to me. As far as I knew, they were closer, if not the closest.

Ilya’s voice was the Pakhan’s order. “This is the way it’s going to be.”

I wasn’t one to let him boss me around, and I certainly wouldn’t bother asking for permission from him or anyone else, but I also knew how to choose my battles.

Since Alisa was the one who asked, I agreed, preventing us from starting on a bad note.

It wasn’t the task, per se, that bothered me. It was more about how the world would see the move, how the decision would be interpreted. All eyes were on the wedding. Whispers would make the rounds about an outsider this close to the Pakhan.

Soon, they’d surround me like crows, hoping their words would reach higher through me.

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