Balancing a stack of mail and a bag of Chinese take-out in one hand, backpack weighing me down with texts, my purse and keys in the other, I managed to unlock the front door of the condo and burst into the foyer, all but collapsing on the marble tiles. I took a deep breath, smiling with relief at the fact that I was home at last. Then I set the food on the entry table, along with the mail, and bent to unlace my boots, letting the stress of the day roll off of me.
“Stefan?” I called out. No response.
I wasn’t sure if he’d be home this early or not, but I was looking forward to a cozy night in together. It had been one disaster after another at school—first I’d struggled with conjugations in Latin (Me! Vice president of my high school Latin club! Official Latin tutor of my study group!), and with my mind still stewing on that failure, I’d confidently given the answer to a verbal pop quiz in my Slavic languages class…in Latin.
Though my answer had technically been correct, it had taken a few seconds of the class laughing at me before I’d realized my reply had been in the wrong tongue entirely. My professor had smiled and told me to try again, but at that point I could feel my face burning and I knew nobody even heard me correct myself.
Still, despite the fact that it had been embarrassing in the moment, I’d gotten through it. I knew I’d be able to come home that evening and tell Stefan about it, and we’d both laugh. He still teased me about the day I’d been engaging in conversational Russian in front of the class and had told my partner I was afraid ofkhuy—thinking I was using the correct word for needles. It turned out modern slang words for “penis” evolved faster than my textbook had.
I could hear shuffling in the other room, and I knew it wasn’t Gretna since she had the night off.
“Stefan?”
As I stepped into the living room, swinging the heavy bag of lo mein, kung pao, and egg rolls, a man in head-to-toe charcoal grey turned away from the art hanging on the walls and toward me. It wasn’t my husband. Instead of Stefan’s handsome, confident, familiar face, all I saw was the stern visage of his father and the grim expression he wore. Konstantin.
He was like a bad omen brought to life, and my good mood immediately vanished. Dread washed over me, and I suddenly had the urge to run out back out the door and hide out in a nearby coffee shop until I knew Stefan was back.
But I refused to let this man chase me away. Even if I feared him.
“Mr. Zoric. We weren’t expecting you. Are you enjoying the art?” I asked pleasantly.
All of the paintings in the condo were the work of Stefan’s mother Danica—Konstantin’s wife—and I wondered if seeing her art here had affected the man at all, had reminded him of his dearly departed. Though Konstantin tended to either ignore me or size me up like a piece of meat, perhaps we’d finally talk like two humans. It wouldn’t change the fact that I knew he was a bad man, one who did despicable things, but I could at least play nice until Stefan got home.
“My wife painted what was inside her head,” Konstantin said, unsmiling. “She was a troubled woman. I prefer art that is nice to look at.”
Inside, I bristled. Stefan loved these paintings. They’d grown on me as well. They had a modern edge, with thick paint, dark colors, and stormy skies, but they were also gorgeous. The longer you looked at them, the more you saw the hints of beauty hiding in the shadows. Danica had painted patches of wildflowers. Birds. Fingers of sunlight breaking through a forest canopy.
“They do say beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” I said, trying to keep things neutral. “I guess sometimes you just have to look a little harder.”
“What would you know about having to look for beauty?” he sneered. “You’ve always had it right outside your window, growing up in a life of luxury and ease. You didn’t have to immigrate to this country from a land of hardship, unlike some of us.”
His words stung. “I may have been privileged—”
But he didn’t let me finish. Konstantin was on a roll. “Oh no, little girl. You don’t get to tell me. I worked my ass off my entire life to secure visions of beauty. I wasn’t born into it. Nobody handed it to me. I did it the hard way. My way.”
As he’d ranted and railed at me, I’d subconsciously backed further and further away from him. Now I was almost up against a literal wall, my adrenaline spiking.
How dare he stand there and try to shame me for the way I’d been raised, when his own good fortune had been built from the exploitation and subjugation of others. And he had the audacity to stand here and talk himself up, as if he’d actually done the hard work himself—instead of manipulating, coercing, and threatening people to get where he was now.
“Where’s my son?” he barked. “I came here to see him, not stand around wasting time with his wife’s pointless small talk.”
“I’m not sure exactly where he is at the moment,” I said, my fake smile slipping. “But he should be home soon. I can call him for you—”
“You think I didn’t try that? He’s not answering!” Konstantin shot back.
“He’s probably just out somewhere having a meeting,” I said placatingly. “With his phone off. I’m sure we’ll hear from him as soon as he gets out.”
“No. He has no meetings.” My father-in-law was shaking his head, but he looked at me and in his narrowed gaze I saw loathing and rage. “He’s too distracted lately. Never where he’s supposed to be. Never picking up his phone. And I know it’s because ofyou.”
“Excuse me? You thinkI’mthe distraction?”
His finger pointed in my face. “You’re the reason he can’t focus. You’re the reason he’s not on top of his game anymore. The second he married you, everything started going to shit.”
Konstantin took a step closer. My heart was pounding, but I’d had enough.
“I’m sure you’d love to place the blame on me,” I said, dropping my voice to a steely register, “but maybe he’s starting to realize how much better life can be when KZM isn’t dictating every minute of his schedule. Maybe he’s starting to realize he can breathe easier outside of the KZ family. You know, where people actually have ethics. And obey the law.”
Before I could even blink, Konstantin was on me, his hand around my throat, my body slammed up against the wall. I gasped in shock and fear.
