He sighed heavily. “True that. At least you can be open with your affection. I don’t have such luxury,” he finished sadly. Instinctively, I hugged him, hoping he’d get comfort from that.
Once we reached the bar, the picture presented in front of me was much different from the previous night. Members played on Xboxes, chatted together, or watched TV news in the corner, while the women who partied hard cleaned the place and wore more suitable clothes.
Kostya wiped the counter with a towel, while Konstanciya flipped hastily through a magazine. Placing my butt next to her, I said cheerfully, “Hey.”
“Hey,” they replied in unison, as both their eyes narrowed on each other. By the tension instantly filling the air, I got the feeling those two didn't like one another.
“How are you guys today?” Okay, this line was slightly odd considering the circumstances, but no one seemed in the mood for conversation, and I simply wanted to know more about the place, where I’d probably live ‘til the end of my life, which already depressed me immensely.
“Small talk isn't necessary,” Konstanciya noted, while circling some gun in the magazine with her red pen.
“Don’t be rude to her,” Kostya snapped.
She laughed, and surprisingly, it was melodic and gentle, in contrast with her tough appearances. “Rich coming from you, since you put her in the hotel room,” she sassily added, and his demeanor darkened.
“Shut up.”
“We are in trouble with the pakhan. On fucking cleaning duty the whole day.” Glancing at the clock, it showed six pm, so Dominic already had their meeting and probably ripped them a new one.
Before he could say anything else, Michael groaned beside me. “You guys need to either fuck or fight. Everyone is goddamn tired of your arguments.” This shut them both up real quick.
Interesting. “How come you guys know English so well?”
Larisa, the household cook, put a plate with Belgian waffles and fresh strawberries on the side along with green tea on the counter in front of me. Dominic even told them my food preferences. My stomach growled loudly, and the guys chuckled.
“Per Vasya’s orders. He had ruled the house for thirty years. He insisted on education, especially on learning new languages. Most of us just chose English, easier I guess.” Michael popped a cashew in his mouth while sipping his coffee.
“So what do you guys do on a daily basis? Just sit around?” I questioned, shoveling food in my mouth and moaning in pleasure as the dough melted on my tongue.
Cosa Nostra’s members had their daily jobs and obligations if they wanted, as long as they stayed the hell away from the police. Even standing in the small grocery shopping line with a police officer was a punishable offense. One of many rules the house lived by.
“I’m the pakhan’s assistant. So I schedule meetings, parties, make sure everything runs smoothly in headquarters. Stuff like that.” Chewing on the sweet strawberry, I highly doubted Dom needed an assistant, but he sure showed his sensitive side giving Michael the job. During the month we had spent together in New York, he told me how he found Michael on the streets trying to steal from him, so he offered him a place in the Bratva. This gentle soul probably couldn't stomach any violence.
“I’m the Bratva’s sniper,” Konstanciya said breezily, and the cup with hot tea stopped a few inches from my lips.
“As in—”
“Killing people from a distance if the pakhan asks me to,” she finished for me. Well, okay.
“You are a woman,” I blurted, and her eyebrows came together while she folded her arms in ‘attack’ mode.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I’ll have you know I operate the guns better than some men operate their dicks.”
“You wish,” Michael muttered, and got a slap to the back of his head by Kostya.
“In the Cosa Nostra, women don’t do that.” I shrugged. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, these archaic laws piss me off. But when I’m not busy killing people, I actually run the animal shelter a few hours away from here.” Yeah, the woman sure lived with contradictions, but that was what made her so intriguing.
“Can you take me with you tomorrow?”
She glanced at me, surprise filling her, but she nodded. “Sure.” She closed the magazine and slid it to Michael. “Several new guns for me, please.”
“I’m not a damn Amazon wish list, Legs,” Michael complained.
She covered her ears with her hands and chanted. “La la la. Can’t hear you. La la la.” He rolled the thing into a tube and aimed at her head, while Kostya’s arm stopped him.
“Michael,” he warned.
