Kapitel 16: Defying Him
(IVANNA)
Much as I hate to admit it, part of me is excited that I'm going out tonight. I keep telling myself that the only reason why I'm excited is because I want to see Tyva and figure out all the possible escape routes. It is definitely just that. Also, I get a chance to leave the castle even this once. I hate being cooped up in here. Plus I'd fancy a night with a fancy dress at some fancy restaurant. That sounds like heaven if you ask me.
That's how far I've fallen in just a few days.,
Karlen is quite chatty on the drive to town. He points out places and things, sharing funny stories about his childhood. The more time I spend around him, the more I see that he is a less hardened version compared to his father. Karlen is smart, thoughtful, funny and entertaining. Basically everything that his father isn't. If they didn't look so much alike, I wouldn't guess they were related.
Everyone fawns over us when we get into the restaurant as though we are some royal couple. I suppose maybe we are some firm of royalty considering Karlen's last name. We are seated in a private room, table covered with silver and crystal. The place is dark and cozy, with exposed brick and soft lighting. Rows of wine bottles are lined along the walls.
The host welcomes us as we sit then he begins to speak to me in rapid Russian that I can't make. I glance at Karlen, embarrassed. This is one of those feelings that I loathe.
"English, please." Karlen says.
The other man nods. "Are you allergic to any food, miss?"
"No, I'm not." I shake my head. I eat just about anything and everything, a trait that made my father often laugh at me. Then a pang of homesickness hits me. My stomach suddenly feels hollow, but I push it aside. Pa just carted me off to the Karlen, to the Sakharovs and the Dvina Vory. I will never forgive him for that.
"Alright then." The man says. "The chef is preparing a special meal for you both."
"Thank you, Anton." Karlen smiles, placing the napkin on his lap then looks up at me. "Have I told you how pretty you look tonight?"
I smile at him. "Only four times, but hey, I'm not complaining."
This eighteen-year-old guy is somehow supposed to be my husband. We will be married. I can't picture that happening. Karlen is calm and collected, and he doesn't seem attracted to me. That makes it even weirder. I feel the same. We have absolutely no spark. No desire. Nothing. Yet I will be expected to sleep with him and give birth to his children. Stay in the castle with him and keep my head down. Be the perfect mafia wife.
My mouth goes dry and a scream echoes somewhere in my brain. I reach for a glass of water and try to stay calm. There is no need to panic yet. I still have time to find a way out.
"Are you okay?" Karlen asks, pinching his eyebrows. "You went pale there for a sec."
"I'm good, never better."
"You really need to learn how to speak Russian."
"I know a little. But still, not enough. Especially when it is spoken fast. My father speaks English most of the time, and my mother died before she could teach us more than just a few simple word phrases. You should teach me sometime."
"I'd be more than happy to. I'd like to practice my English with you too." He grins. He looks so much like Sergio that I have to remind myself to keep calm and breathe.
"Speaking of that, how come you and your father speak very good English?"
"There are so many English speakers all over Tyva. You will find many people here who can speak the language. My father and I went to boarding schools out of Russia though."
"What?" My jaw drops open. "That's wild."
"Yeah. From age six to twelve."
I can't picture Sergio as a boy in school. I'd sooner believe that he popped out of his mother's womb fully formed and evil.
The waiter comes in with a bottle of the Sakharov Rose. I hold up my hand. "I'll stick with water, if you don't mind." I spent the most of last night puking my liver out and I don't need another one like it, ever.
Karlen purses, looking amused. "Then tell him." He mumbles something in Russian and I look up at the waiter and repeat the phrase.
The waiter leaves, and once we are alone, Karlen asks, "Are you feeling better?"
"Yes. I couldn't hold the food down until noon." It's odd that I'm now starving. "Lucia was kind of disappointed that I didn't eat."
"I had to work late last night, or I would have been up."
I pick at my fingernail beneath the table. For some reason, I don't want Karlen to think oddly of me. "You know, I should apologize for getting too drunk last night. I'm sure that I was a hot mess. Thanks for looking out for me though."
My hair had been pulled back and my face was clean when I woke up. I had a shirt three times bigger than my size on. There were two pills and a glass of water waiting for me at the bedside table. Best of all, my vomit-stained clothes were nowhere in sight, probably already discarded.
"You're welcome. You're cute when you are drunk though. I don't think you ever stopped talking… amid the vomiting of course."
"Oh my God." I drop my hands to my face. "What did I say?"
"You told me about Krasnoyarsk. Your sisters. Alexei, who I assume was the boyfriend my father told me about. And oh, you talked about my father. A lot."
My head snaps up in disbelief and horror fuels inside of me. "I did? about how much I hate him, that I don't doubt." God, I pray that be the case.
"It didn't exactly sound like hate. Fear, yes. But it mostly sounded like fascination. You asked me tons of questions about him. As a father, as a capo… and as a man."
As a man? What the fuck does he mean by that?
Karlen isn't finished, apparently. "And you were also very curious about Marlene. You asked so many questions about her."
At this moment, all I want to do is crawl beneath the table. How mortifying. Karlen must have assumed that I'm jealous. That I'm attracted to his father. Which I am, reluctantly. Despite my out-of-control hormones, I sure don't want his son, my supposed future husband, to know that much. "But everyone is fascinated with Sergio Sakharov, no?"
"Of course, especially women. He is like a ladies' man. Like the one from that film, the Godfather."
"Don Coroner?" Sergio Sakharov is ten times more handsome than the said man.
"No. The don reminds me of my uncle, Toni."
The talk about the movie keeps going for a stretch and I want to get off the topic of Sergio's looks. "Is your uncle Toni your mother's brother?"
"No, he is my father's cousin. But I call him uncle. Like Maksim."
"You have so many relatives."
"Yes. The Dvina Vory is all about family. The only way in is to be related to the capo."
How had I not known this? "Really? In Krasnoyarsk, not all of my father's men are related to us."
"Allowances are made for the bratva outside of Tyva. But here, we take blood seriously." Karlen says and it finally makes sense why Sergio needs him to start making babies soon.
We split a tartufo for dessert and drink cappuccino. Much as I don't want to be in Tyva, I have to accept that this has been a perfect date and we had a perfect meal. And I don't hate spending time with Karlen. So, what does that say about me? Am I giving in already?
The thought depresses me. But what is even more depressing is the thought of returning to my castle. My prison. I'm not ready to face Sergio, his unforgiving eyes and his lush, stern mouth. I'm sure that he will gloat in the victory of finally getting me and Karlen to go out together. Never mind that he blackmailed me into it.
An idea then occurs to me. "Where do you go for fun in Tyva?"
Karlen purses his lips before taking a sip of his coffee. "what's in your mind?"
"I'm thinking that I don't want to go back yet. Sitting in the castle is lame. We should go have some fun, what do you think?"
"I'm supposed to bring you straight home."
"Orders from Sergio, no doubt.?' I roll my eyes. Come on, Karl. I'm sure you know of some place you can take me so we can go live a little."
"Oh sure. Defy my father. You make that sound like it's such a simple thing to do."
"But he won't mind us spending time together. Isn't that what he wants?"
"True." He sighs then checks his watch. "Okay. I know of a fun night club. Let me take you there. No one is going to bother us."
I put the spoon down. "Alright. I'm ready."
Geschenke
-- Geschenk
erhalten Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein