Papa wouldn’t let me find a job elsewhere, so I made itmy life’s work to take over the restaurant and bring it to the twenty-first century.Maria’swas my mother’s. It was the only part of our legacy I chose for myself.
Papa had been hinting at giving me away the last few years. It’s always been understood that I’d have no choice. It was my duty as the only daughter to bring families together. My only hope was for the family to be close enough that I could still run the restaurant. And that whoever I was given to was a fair man.
Mama passed when I was young, but I didn’t believe my father to be a one-woman man. I didn’t understand until I was older, but there had been times as a child I saw Papa speaking to women who worked at our home or at the restaurant and the way he looked at them was much different than the average interaction. When I asked Niko if my suspicions were correct, he told me to not ask questions I didn’t want to know.
I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know. But Niko was always trying to shield me. He was the best brother a girl could ask for, but he annoyed me to no end and treated me like a child, even when I grew up. I needed to know the expectations for me.The little mafia princess.
It sounded so powerful and important, but really it was a title of property. I currently belonged to Papa, and soon I’d belong to some other mafiaso who would eventually take over his own family.
After attending all the parties since my early teen years, I started to put together some things on my own. As a younger teen, I was only allowed to be at the parties for dinner and maybe a few minutes after before a driver would take me home. Once I was in high school, I was able to stay later, but only inapproved spaces of the various homes.
If the party was at our house, the girls my age were all quarantined to the dining room or the sitting room. If it wasn’t too cold, we’d mingle outside, but even there, we’d be run back in occasionally by Papa’s associates. Over time, I learned that was because the men liked to go outside to speak about sensitive matters.
It had to be exhausting always being suspicious of everyone and everything around you. Perhaps that was my silver lining as a woman, never having to worry my pretty little head over such things.
To my father’s dismay, I wasn’t a complete dingbat. And I wasn’t a proper little princess. He thought it was a waste for me to go to college, but I got my way by constantly interrupting his meetings, blowing up his phone with nonsense, and generally annoying him.
He finally allowed me to attend culinary school since I showed so much interest in the restaurant. But culinary school wasn’t all just fancy food and cocktails. No, there I learned more about business than anything.
Even though I knew my lot in life was to be a trophy wife, I wanted more. I could dress up and smile through parties and baptisms, even be a perfect host for when we had guests. And I’d have children. But what I wouldn’t do was spend my days ordering my house staff around or let a nanny completely raise my kids while I was busy perfecting my tan and getting my second round of lipo for the season.
Sure, I’d have enough money to have help and I’d take advantage for things like mopping and dusting. Who likesdusting? But I could run a homeanda business. What was the point of having privilege if you squandered it?
Mama had the restaurant, and she had us. We spent time with the nanny and, of course at school, but still saw Mama a great deal until she left this earth. Over the years, I’d watched as other men in power who ran in Papa’s circle had the perfect trophy wife who did nothing but play the part and theystillwere cheated on. If I had to accept that was the way of life for women like me, I at least wanted something that was all mine. But things like that made me long for my mother’s guidance and support.
“Katya,” Niko called from upstairs.
I turned and looked up. His cropped blond hair was perfectly combed, his face clean shaven, and he donned a pair of navy suit pants, a white dress shirt, and a burgundy tie. I’d probably find his blazer draped over a chair upstairs.
He tapped his fingers on the railing of the stairs. “Father would you like you to join us, sister.”
“Be right there, Niko.” Sighing, I mouthed, “sorry,” to Robbie and handed him the towel and spray.
Niko had been gone a few days and only returned early this morning. I happened to be up training early when the notification from the front gate popped up on my phone while I was listening to my fight mix.
He waited at the top of the stairs as I headed up, his blue eyes sparkling from the light of the chandelier in the main entryway. While I got the same light hair, I had always been jealous of his ocean eyes. Sometimes looking into dark irisesin my reflection reminded me so much of Mama that it choked me up. It was nice that I carried a piece of her with me forever, though.
After hugging my brother, I stepped into the formal dining room that was often reserved for Papa and his acquaintances. I walked to the large table where Papa was at the head of it.
He stood, his arms out and a bright smile. His dirty blond hair was more ashen now and his blue eyes were bright as the lines around them crinkled. “My littleKatushka, so radiant.” Papa still had a bit of an accent while Niko’s was subtle and mine usually was faint, except if I was mad.
I wrapped my arms around him, not able to meet my hands around his back. Even though I hated that he smoked, I drew in the scent of his cigar as I pressed my face to his chest.
Pulling away, I smiled up at him. Papa may have not been the best husband, but he was a wonderful father. He was larger than life, not just in size but in presence. He could command a room with a look and unfortunately I knew he’d ordered men to death with one as well. But to me, he was just Papa.
“Good evening, Papa. Haven’t seen you all day,” I said as Niko pulled out a chair for me so I took a seat. “Thank you, brother.”
Papa sat back down and Niko took a seat across from me. We both sat on either side of Papa at the long, wooden dining table. Only place settings for the three of us were out.
Dinner was plated. Because it was a restaurant, the cuisine was all traditional Russian dishes to keep the customers happy. At home we ate a variety of foods, but we had manymeals at the restaurant, so we ate like tourists most of the time. I did enjoy our traditional meals, but wished I had a bit more variety sometimes.
We all began with a small cup of borscht followed by lamb and rice. We ate quietly with a few pleasantries occasionally.
“How was your day?”
“What sweets did you bake for us today?”
“What do you think of the weather?”
