“One at a time,” Liza uttered. “Shouldn’t you be offering us seats? Drinks?”
“Right. Come on in,” I urged, looping my arm around Liza’s as we all moved into the living room.
“I can’t believe you’re sitting here right now,” I gushed before turning to Emilia, who smiled at us from the couch beside ours. “Don’t mind me, Emilia. I’ve not seen Liza in several months. How are you doing?”
“Oh, it's nothing to apologize for. I’m actually amazed at how similar you two are.”
“We were cut from the same cloth, really,” Liza answered.
“I see that,” Emilia agreed, chuckling. “In the little time we’ve known each other, I see you’re not docile like the other women in mafia circles.”
“I’d rather be dead than be a mafia bride,” she answered before slapping a hand to her mouth. “I meant typical mafia wife. Not wives like both of you.”
I giggled, informing Emilia, “And that’s Liza in her truest form. Her mouth works faster than her brain.”
We all laughed at the brutal but absolutely true description.
“I came back yesterday morning, and before you yell at me about not being a good friend, I wasn’t sure of the amount of freedom you had. We hadn’t exactly spoken since you got married, so I decided to just do some digging, you know? I found myself at your husband’s warehouse yesterday, and the Pakhan and his beautiful wife happened to drop by. Let’s just say it’s not so hard to prove that I’m really your childhood friend.”
“Yeah. I remember you told me about your close friend who lives in Russia,” Emilia added.
“That came in handy,” Liza agreed, nodding. “So, yeah, there were conditions and whatnot, under the ‘nothing must happen to my wife’ guise. Anyway, Emilia and I decided to meet up and then head over here. She’s good people.”
“Of course, she is. What type of people do you think I hang around?” I asked.
“Izzy, you're a mafia soldier’s daughter. Who else but criminals of the underworld?” she asked, making us all laugh again.
“I heard Bells, and now you said Izzy. How many nicknames does this young woman possess?” Emilia inquired.
“You just sounded like your husband,” I pointed out, my chuckle morphing into a giggle as I watched her blush.
“Bells, Izzy, Bella, they are all her nicknames,” Liza answered.
“Noted,” Emilia stated as she stood. “I’ll get drinks and snacks.”
“Bella, I came as soon as I could after hearing news of how your dad disappeared, and you were forced to marry one of the Lobanov brothers,” Liza revealed as Emilia went into the kitchen. “How are you doing? How have you been?”
“Yeah, he obviously had some debts and ran into hiding rather than face them,” I said, sighing. “I’m fine. Better than I thought I would be, really.”
“Does ‘fine’ mean you’re not looking to break free of his chains? The man is fine, but that doesn’t make him an angel.”
I chuckled.
“I’ll break free by making it look like I don’t want to,” I disclosed. “My life is complicated now, Liza.”
“With a father like yours, I always knew this was bound to happen. You being stuck with a powerful mafia man because of him.”
She was right. She used to joke about it every now and then.
But the not-so-strange thing was that being married to Mikhail seemed less like bondage with each passing day.
“I'm so sorry about Giovanni. He was the sweetest,” she uttered, her voice heavy with the same sadness that suddenly made my heart heavy.
Her eyes flicked towards the kitchen, where Emilia was probably making popcorn, before she spoke.
“The main reason I had to come here urgently was what I heard about your father. He’s been trying to cut deals with the Italian faction in Brooklyn. From what I heard, he’s offering them Bratva secrets for protection from the Lobanovs.”
I blinked in surprise. The recent attack, which we’d learnt was the handiwork of the Italians, came to mind immediately.
