Katya has emotional needs I'm ill-equipped to meet. It was obvious in the car, from the way she tried to get to know me, that she's going to want things I'm not prepared to give.
Being a mere accessory on my arm, a convenient woman to fuck, is not going to satisfy Katya. It could get messy. Yet I can't bring myself to regret choosing her. The scent of her perfume clings in the air and I find I like it.
Though I haven't decided how I'm going to handle my new wife, there are practical considerations I can take care of now. I switch on my laptop and send an email to Giulio, my financial advisor, telling him to arrange access to a bank account with a generous allowance for Katya.
I emphasize the urgency of my request. I had my wife's things brought over from the hotel where she spent last night, but there was only one small suitcase. She'll need more clothes. We have an event to attend early next week and I doubt she remembered to pack an evening gown when she was planning to flee St. Petersburg.
When that's taken care of, my next thought is that I should call my brothers to tell them of my marriage. They'd be happy for me, I think. But it's been too long since we spoke and I'm not ready to bridge the gap I created.
Though I would die for my brothers, I can't be in contact with them. There's too great a risk they'll realize the damage I've sustained is not just to my face. My weaknesses were always there but I masked them better before the attack. I won't be able to hide from them and I hate to think what the consequences of them discovering the truth might be. Damiano may force me to give up my control of Rome.
In any case, the prime opportunity for us to reunite has passed. We should have come together at our mother's funeral last year. Instead of taking my rightful place by my brothers' side so we could share our grief, I sat at the back of the crematorium like a stranger.
If it hadn't been for Damiano's wife, Violetta, finding me outside, I might not even have gone in. I don't know why she wasn't with my brother that day, but it was clear something had happened between them. In that moment, she needed me to go into the building with her as much as I'd needed her. I gathered my courage so she wouldn't have to walk in there alone.
Dwelling on the past solves nothing so I turn my attention to business. I'm examining a spreadsheet recording income from our betting operations when Lukas knocks at the door.
I know it's him by the sharp rap which precedes him walking straight in without waiting for an invitation. Our twenty-fiveyears of friendship have bought him the right to take some liberties.
He drops onto the seat opposite me and loosens his tie.
"You're not with your bride." It's a facile observation.
"No."
He quirks an eyebrow. "Why not?"
"She needs time to settle in."
He nods, understanding quite well that I also need a pause to adjust to my new circumstances.
"What do you make of her?" I value his opinion.
"I haven't spoken to her much, but she seems bright."
"Intelligent, or the other kind of bright?"
"What other kind of bright?"
"You know, bubbly, effervescent?"
"Bubbly?" He grins wryly then considers for a moment. "Both, I think."
I agree with his assessment. During our initial meeting, Katya was businesslike, brisk in her manner. I got the sense she's a woman who understands how our world works and how to make the best of it.
Throughout the wedding ceremony, she was more subdued, but I guess she was overwhelmed at that point. Having a priest who didn't speak English can't have helped. She clearly struggled to keep up.
In the car I saw another aspect of her personality. She was friendlier, warmer, wanting to learn something about me. I haven't decided yet whether I'll encourage that. Although I intend to raise a family with Katya, it's probably best if I remind her this is merely an agreement between consenting parties, not a budding romance. It will be cleaner if we both adhere to that. I almost believe it.
"I'm surprised you didn't want to fuck her right away," Lukas says.
I allow him the impertinent remark. He sacrificed his own personal life when he returned to my side following the ambush which left my face in ruins. He's stuck with me ever since, often picking up the slack for me. I consider him my third brother.
"Did you come in here to discuss my bride?"
He shakes his head, his expression turning serious.
"The guards picked up a man just inside the east gate."
