“No, she had to pile them on the luggage cart. And she didn’t bring the cart back down,” she says disapprovingly, “you know tenants are required-”
“Great. Okay. See you later.” I trudge toward the elevators, already dreading the financial fallout of my sister’s shopping spree.
“Why are you so upset?” Inessa snaps, standing in the rubble of her spending binge. “You know I need a decent work wardrobe! I’m so close to graduating, and those job interviews are going to be so stressful!”
I pick up a big, glossy bag from La Perla and pull out a bra. “This is necessary for- oh, mygodyou spent $300 on abra?What the hell were you thinking?”
Her big, brown eyes, so much like our mother’s, fill with tears. “You’re right,pukhlyy.I’m sorry. I’m just so worried about getting the right job so I can pay for your tuition. It’s your turn next and I haven’t been able to sleep, trying to figure out how we’re going to do this. I guess I just went overboard. I could return some of it…”
She knows perfectly well that most of this can’t be returned. Fancy boutiques do not accept returns. “It’s not like this stuff is from Amazon, ‘Nessa. We’ll…” I ran my hands through my hair, “We’ll have to economize. I’ll get more shifts at the restaurant.”
“I’m going to get an insanely good job and we’ll have a bottomless bank account soon,” she promises, hugging me.
“I’m sorry this stressed you out.”
Sighing, I return her hug. “Just the essentials from now on, okay?”
“I promise,” she whispers. Breathing in her wildly expensive perfume - Dior, I’m guessing - I hope that this time, she means it.
Chapter Ten
In which Alexi does some digging.
Alexi…
Driving home, I put in a call to my contact within the Dubrovin Bratva.
“Alexi Turgenev, this is a surprise, I thought you were busy carving up America into bite-size chunks.” It’s early evening in Russia, but I can already hear a full-blown party raging in the background.
“Dima Abelev, you are correct. But I have time for a side project or two.” There’s a click of a lighter and he sucks in a deep breath. “Does yourObshchakknow you’re getting high?”
Coughing on his next inhale, he says, “Our new Pakhan is more willing to reward hard work.”
He’s full of shit. Any man using drugs on the job would get a bullet in the head from my father. It’s hard to believe that Rurik Dubrovin would be so permissive.
“Tell me why the two Dubrovina daughters are in the U.S.” He coughs again. “Put the fucking joint down, Dima Abelev.”
“Izvini,sorry, Alexi Turgenev,” he wheezes. “I don’t know much. Their mother sent them to Boston shortly after their father was killed. It’s been years. I’m not sure if they’re still there.”
“I want you to do some research for me. Find out why they were sent away. What are the Pakhan’s plans for them, who’s paying for them to stay there,” I say, pulling into my building’s empty parking lot.
“Those are very pointed questions,” he says uncomfortably, “asking them would lead to even more questions.”
“No one is better at finding the answers than you are, Dima Abelev.” This is possibly true, when he's deep in debt and suitably motivated. “Get back to me.”
WhydidRurik Dubrovin allow Lucya and Inessa to come to Boston? That level of freedom is never allowed for women in our world, particularly high-ranking ones, such as the daughters of the former Pakhan of the Dubrovin Bratva.
A week later…
Dima gets back to me surprisingly quickly.
“Alexi Turgenev, I come bearing news.” He’s Facetiming me and he’s twitchy, off, like he’s just taken a large selection of party drugs and nobody, least of all Dima, knows which one’s about to kick in next.
“You seem nervous, Dima Abelev.”
“Ha! Well…” His eyes are darting back and forth, looking anywhere but at me. “I have your information but this closes out our debt because if anyone finds out I’ve told you, my death will be very long and painful.”
Now, I’m interested. “Go on.”
