Page 77 of The Payback

A couple of the other women at the table titter, and I realise how that sounded. Ana is less subtle as she slaps her thigh and cackles. “Ooh, is Dimitri keeping you busy?”

Not at all, but they don’t need to know that.

“New home, new husband, lots to figure out,” I say, dancing around the subject. I turn my attention to the three other women gathered and smile. “Apologies. I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Elsa.”

The dark-haired beauty in the middle with a pearl necklace—not that kind—nods demurely. “It’s very nice to meet you, Elsa. I am Sasha, and these are my daughters, Maria and Valentina.”

Her smile is tight as the women on either side of her say hello. I greet them in return and settle back against the chair. Oksana looks pleased with my decorum and lifts a dainty teacup to her lips. She takes a sip and sets it back down without even a clink of the china. It’s unnerving how precise she is in both her speech and movements.

“Welcome to the wives’ club. We get together on the second Wednesday of every month, come rain or shine, and wish to include you in our tradition. I hope you’ll forgive us for not extending the invitation last month, but we wanted to give you some time to settle in after the wedding.” Oksana studies me from across the table, her gaze unnerving as she analyses my slightly harried appearance. It’s been a weird day, and the wind tunnels created by the New York streets are not helping my hair situation. “You’re one of us now, and after your heroic actions, I’m honoured you’ve agreed to join us. The life of a Bratva wife is hard, and it is good to have others in your corner who understand. My husband said you asked how to be there for Dimitri at your lunch. Well, we are a fount of knowledge and at your disposal.”

My shoulders relax, and I look into the eyes of each of the women gathered. “Thank you,” I breathe out. “It’s been so overwhelming, and I feel I don’t do enough.”

“We’ve all been there,” Sasha says. “Some of us grew up in this life, like Oksana, Anastasia, and my daughters. But I married in, and I understand the adjustment well,rodnaya.”

Her calling me “dear” like that feels condescending, but I fake a smile and nod in thanks.

Ana reaches her hand to my leg and pats it quickly. “We’re here to help you like our husbands help Dimitri. Let us.”

I smile at her, already feeling regret that her husband will probably be caught up in the Interpol sweep when this undercover stint is up. But there’s no room for emotions or sentimentality right now. My priority needs to be earning the trust of these women.

“Any help would be incredible. Thank you so much,” I blather like an idiot. If only I could roll my eyes at myself without them seeing. I hate acting weak in front of them, but a strong woman rarely garners friends easily. And when someone feels they know more than someone else, it ingratiates the uninformed to the all-knowing. That much is clear from the research I’ve been doing.

I take a sip from my delicate cup, not hiding my look of surprise that the tea I thought was weak is, in fact, flavourful and quite pleasing.

Oksana catches my expression and chuckles. “Oh,rodnaya, you don’t think we’d let them get away with anything less than the best, did you? Sometimes what looks meek and unassuming is instead a force to be reckoned with.”

We’re not talking about tea anymore.

I smile, playing stupid. “I guess not. But damn, this is good.” Cringing at my slip of a curse word, Oksana chuckles more heartily. “No need to mind your language with us. Sometimes, I think we’re more crude than our men.”

Then, in a move so surprising I jump in my seat, Oksana tilts her head back and shouts, “Fuck!” at the top of her lungs.

Heads swivel in our direction as the regal—and vulgar—woman returns to her tea, not giving a shit who’s staring at us. When the waitress eyes us, I worry she’s about to kick us out. But instead of coming over and complaining about ruining the serene ambience, a small smile curls her lips, and she returns to serving a nearby table.

“Relax, Elsa. We’ve spent more money here than some countries’ GDPs. They won’t do a thing. This place is ours, and the sooner you learn to wield your power, the better.”

Ana hides her smile behind a cucumber sandwich, chuckling at her mother’s antics like this isn’t the first time she’s shouted an obscenity at high tea.

“She’s right, you know,” Sasha says, capturing my attention as she speaks. “We aren’t trophy wives who sit at home and do nothing. There are charities we sit on the boards of and politicians we speak with. Though, usually, it’s their wives who listen to us and steer their husbands in the right direction. Life can be full of many wonderful things if you only find your path and carve out a piece for yourself.”

I nod. “That makes sense. Back home, wives are supportive of their husbands and often involved in the work. Dimitri hasn’t given me much to do since our wedding, and I fear I’ll get left behind.”

“You’re still new,” Valentina says, breaking her silence. “It’ll take time, but now you have us. We are here to support each other and help where we can.”

“Too right, sister,” Maria chimes in. “The question is, what is it you want to do?”

Ana lists options, sensing my sudden fear of being put on the spot. “You can join any of us with our charities, or if you’re more interested in entrepreneurial endeavours, tonnes of businesses under the Bratva umbrella could use new management, in my opinion. But perhaps a good way to start all that is to host that event Dimitri agreed to. I guess my dad tried to insist you two take a honeymoon, but Dimitri was too busy with work, and this was the compromise.”

“A brilliant idea, Ana. We were just speaking about that the other day, and I’d completely forgotten,” Oksana says, rolling right over the answer that was forming on my tongue. “We should host a reception gala where you can have your pick of causes to get involved in. There can also be a charity auction where you can highlight causes you care about. No one would miss an event hosted by Mrs Dimitri Aslanov, especially since the wedding and reception guest list was so short.”

It’s a dig at our small nuptials, but with the entire guest list on my side being agents, it made sense to keep the event small and manageable.

I raise my eyebrows at Oksana’s summary. Dimitri is well known and has padded many politicians’ and notable figures’ pockets, but insinuating it would be a must-attend event?

That gives me reason to believe these people would show up if invited. And what better way to have the raid than to gather all the pieces into one location?

A sensation skitters down my spine, and I know, without looking, that Nik is boring holes into my back from his spot at a nearby table with the other bodyguards. The sensation, while becoming familiar, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before I arrived in New York, the way my body is aware of his proximity when he’s looking at me... Well, I have experienced it, but with Dimitri. Hence why the two of them have been driving me mad recently and my desperate acceptance of this invitation to tea. I just didn’t know one of those probing stares would come with me and stare the whole time.

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