Page 23 of The Payback

“So, how is it being married to Dimitri? And moving to New York?”

Well, she gets to the point, doesn’t she? I peek over my menu, feeling put on the spot, but I know how this goes. I won’t get anything from her without divulging first.

“It’s only been twenty-four hours, so I can’t say one way or the other yet. But living here is going to be fun, I think. I couldn’t stop staring out the window on the way over. I want to explore everything.”

“If Dimitri hasn’t made an impression in twenty-four hours, I’m worried.” Anastasia flicks a lock of stick-straight, platinum-blonde hair over her shoulder and rakes her pointy nails through the ends of it. “It’s understandable that all the change is jarring. But at least you come from a family like ours; you’ll quickly get the hang of things.”

“Anything I should know upfront?” I ask, lowering my menu and letting a bit of vulnerability bleed into my tone.

“Yeah, the men think shit like this is all we enjoy.”

I cringe.Even Dimitri?

“What, all shopping and tea parties and keeping house? That’s what I live for,” I deadpan.

Anastasia lets out an undignified snort and puts her hand on top of mine, squeezing it. “I think I’m going to like you just fine, Elsa.”

“You want to get out of here?” I ask, looking around the prim and proper room. It dramatically contrasts with the wild streak you’d have to be blind not to see in Anastasia. “This isn’t my scene either.”

“God, yes. Bless you.” Anastasia stands, grabbing her purse and straightening her blue dress. “I know a great bar down the street. Let’s go. But pretend we’re going to the bathroom first, okay?”

I nod, and when Ana waves off a burly man standing along the edge of the room, I realise why. We’re ditching her bodyguard, and I suspect mine is my driver, who’s with the town car as far as I know. But maybe he’s here? I keep my head down, hoping my bonding moment with Anastasia won’t be interrupted, and we hustle towards the toilets.

We turn left and duck into the hallway before sprinting back out again and following the hallway in the other direction towards the lobby.

I join her in the escape out of one of the most famous hotels in the world, and we hoof it to a nearby dive bar. She walks quickly, and while I’m ensuring she doesn’t lead me down a dark alley to stab me, I take a second to continue the perusal of my new city.

We arrive at a solid black door surrounded by simple bricks. Ana grins at me before pushing through the entrance, and I follow close behind. As soon as it shuts behind us, the last of the tension fades away.

This is more like it.

Anastasia saunters over to the bar and sits on a stool that looks one loose screw away from collapsing to the ground. “Two vodkas,” she says to the bartender as I slide onto the seat next to her.

We’re entirely overdressed, which just makes this whole thing funnier.

“Much better,” I say when the bartender slides the drinks along the bar. “To us.”

I hold my drink up, and she taps her glass against mine with a “Cheers!” We knock back the drinks in one go, and she smirks when I look at her. “Yeah, you’ll fit in just fine here.”

She signals for another round and spins on her stool. “So, what do you want to know?”

“Everything is probably too much to cover in one day, right?” I say with a laugh. Anastasia nods but smiles. “I guess I’d like to know about the other women.”

It seems to be the right question because Anastasia smiles at me. “There are the usual wives in the organisation. The climbers and the meek ones, but most of us are middle of the road. Like you, most of our marriages were arranged, and we’re making the best of it because it is a good life most of the time. We just know not to ask too many questions.”

“Climbers?” I ask, snagging on the word from her explanation.

“You know, the ones who push their husbands to catch the boss’s ear—the ones who complain that their darling husband should be higher on the totem pole. I swear, sometimes they’re worse than the men. They don’t get invited to tea very often.”

I make a mental note to dig at that subtly later. In the meantime, I shift the topic to keep the conversation flowing.

“So you’re married to Aleksandr, right? Dimitri said the name, but I don’t know anyone yet, and honestly, I don’t expect to. He seems... guarded.”

Anastasia chuckles behind the lip of her glass. “Oh, you could say that. He’s always been a quiet one, even when we were younger. His family moved here just after mine did, and his dad, my uncle Danil, was the oldpakhan.”

I feign like this is new information. Dimitri and his family lived in Russia until the end of the Cold War and moved to New York soon after. Danil Aslanov was tapped to take on the head role almost immediately when they arrived, a position awarded by the former leader of the Bratva in Moscow.

“When did Dimitri take over?” Something else I already know.

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