Two-1
2040 Words
Alek“THAT IS HIDEOUS,” I spit from behind my large wooden desk as I peer up from my paperwork.
Nina Oblonsky, the interior decorator I hired, looks down from the ladder she stands on. The “artwork” she holds in her trembling hands resembles green vomit. “I thought you’d like it.”
“Well, you thought wrong,” I counter, pointing my gold pen at her. “Get rid of it immediately.”
“It’s modern, progressive,” she argues lightly. She soon seals her lips shut when I stare at her, unimpressed. She came highly recommended by Ivan Elin, my neighbor, who I suspect has dealings with stolen automotives.
In my very own backyard, I have the telltale signs of a chop shop.
I shall let Ivan know what I think of his recommendation when I request his Rolls Royce as payment for wasting my time.
“I don’t care what it is. If it’s not removed from my office in the next three seconds, I’ll ensure it and you are dealt with accordingly.”
“Yes, of course, Mr. Popov.” Nina quickly climbs down the ladder, taking her eyesore with her. “I’m so very sorry.”
She makes a swift beeline for the closed door, but we’re not done.
Placing my pen onto the desk, I stand. Thanks to my temporary limp, I now must use a cane for support. When I reach for it, the jewels on the gold cane topper catch the light emitted from the low hanging chandelier.
Some may see this cane as a weakness, but I do not. With my freshly pressed gray pinstripe suit and crisp white shirt and vest, I look the part of royalty. This cane is an extension of me and has proven to be quite the weapon—both literally and metaphorically.
Its ability to intimidate people into submission, like right now, is impressive.
“Ms. Oblonsky, did I permit you to leave?”
With her hand poised on the door handle, she turns over her shoulder, widening her green eyes. “No, I just thought—”
Raising my hand, I prohibit her from speaking another word. “Shh, shh. You’ll soon learn when in my company, it’s best if you don’t do that.”
She licks her red lips nervously. “Do what?”
With a smirk, I examine her slowly. “Think.”
She came in here with an agenda because what interior decorator wears a white dress so tight that I can see she isn’t wearing any underwear beneath? That bright red lipstick is also part of her ploy.
Just like every other woman and man who has come into my home, she has attempted to lure me in with her gimmicks. Short skirts. Expensive perfume and cologne. They all want to entrap the newly appointed boss of Russia and have a taste of the power.
But it’s going to take a lot more than that because no matter what they bring to the table, I’ll never be interested. Only one person holds my attention, and she’s the reason I’m here.
It’s been one week since I moved into this glorious home and reinstated my place at the top. It was met with resistance, of course, because many wanted to take Serg’s place. But they were greeted with retaliation, and by that, I mean, I broke their noses, kneecaps, ribs whatever I felt was needed to remind them who was boss.
I told them I was on hiatus, but now that I was back, things have changed. I once worked within a circle, but now, I’m a lone wolf, and if anyone had a problem with that, they’d pay with their lives. Anyone is easily replaced because every single one of these assholes are disposable.
So, anyone who dares to come into my domain and attempt to play me, well, they will be made an example of. Just like Ms. Oblonsky here.
“Do you know what I do to women who disappoint me?” I pose, holding her gaze.
She turns around slowly. “I’ve heard—”
“What have you heard, Ms. Oblonsky? Please, enlighten me.” My tone is calm, but this is the calm before the storm.
“I’ve heard rumors that you own ten virgins who are waiting at your beck and call.”
Very good. Pavel’s gossip has reached the right outlets then.
“And when they’re no longer virgins, you dispose of them, only to replace them with two more.”
Well, this is a little farfetched. But, I suppose, why allow the truth to get in the way of a good story?
Gripping the cane, I ponder her admission. “I don’t suppose you’d fit the bill then, would you? I mean, you came in here, far from portraying yourself as a virgin. Am I right?”
She nods, guiltily.
“Is that why you brought that abomination in here?” I ask, gesturing to the painting under her arm.
Once again, she nods.
“You knew I’d hate it, and in turn, I’d punish you for your ill taste?”
She blushes, but nothing about this woman is bashful.
Nina is boring me. But to be fair, everyone does. There is no challenge. They all submit, but I don’t want submission. I want to be pushed until I can no longer stand it. But I have a role to play.
Clucking my tongue, I decide to put an end to this spectacle because I need to prepare for tonight’s gathering. “Very well. Who am I to deny punishment? Lift your dress. Let me see if you blush all over.”
She suddenly appears confused. Was she expecting me to fall to my knees, duped by her ploy to get me hard? All she’s done is put me to sleep.
When she realizes I’m serious, she lowers the painting onto the floor and suggestively draws up the hem of her dress. This show of hers grates on my nerves, but I feign interest in the grand reveal. Focusing on her bare пизда, I wonder if it’ll stir a response in me.
It doesn’t.
I could be offered all the p***y in the world, and it wouldn’t make a difference. I am indifferent to everything. Since Ella left my side, everything has lost its flavor. I want, I crave only one drug and knowing she’ll be here in mere hours has my c**k hardening.
Nina believes this response is elicited by her and smirks. Just as she attempts to strip, I shake my head.
“I’ve seen enough. You may leave.”
She freezes, clearly confused by my change of heart. But what she doesn’t understand is that I don’t have one of those. A heart, that is.
“Aleksei—” She falters, realizing her mistake.
“Did I give you permission to address me this way?” I ask bluntly. “My friends call me by my first name, and last I checked, we are not friends. You’re merely a warm body to pass the time, and that is something I cannot spare, seeing as I need to find another interior decorator. Now get out.”
“You’re a real Мудак, you know that?” she cries, frantically pulling down her dress and retrieving her god-awful painting.
I smirk in response.
She slams the door shut behind her.
That was rather dramatic, but it had the desired effect as she’ll no doubt tell anyone who’ll listen about what a callous asshole I am. All this is necessary for me to rebuild my reputation, which is imperative to get what I want.
Tonight is the first step.
With Ella’s wedding only weeks away, I needed to act fast, so I’m hosting a gathering at my home. Some call it a housewarming, but I call it strategy because I’ve invited anyone of importance, and that includes Santino Macrillo and his sons.
Someone who has regained their throne is expected to do this, so it won’t raise any suspicions. No doubt, the tension will be thick as we’re all finding our footing with each other. But as far as I’m concerned, I’m unrivaled because any challenge will be met with me cutting off their heads.
Hobbling over to my desk, I take a seat and decide to call Mother Superior to let her know how Irina is settling in.
When I asked for permission to adopt Irina, Mother Superior was apprehensive. I was the reason she was kidnapped in the first place. I was also the reason the orphanage belonged to a sociopath for a moment in time.
But with Serg dead, the signed deed died with him, and it was as if it never existed. Sloppy work on Serg’s behalf as he didn’t even have a backup plan. But I didn’t expect anything less from that worthless piece of s**t.
His mutilated corpse is my wallpaper on my computer. Far more creative than any artwork Ms. Oblonsky could ever present me.
Dialing Mother Superior, I smile when she answers. “Hello, Aleksei. How are you?”
My injuries are healing, but I’m still not comfortable visiting the orphanage looking the way I do. Irina is accustomed to seeing my fading bruising, but I don’t want to frighten the other children. Or Mother Superior.
“I’m well. I wanted to call to let you know I’ve found a wonderful au pair for Irina. She’s from France. Her name is Celine. They bonded instantly.” I decide to omit the fact Celine was the twenty-third candidate I interviewed for the position.
I’ve been very selective about who I chose for the job, but I’ll have nothing but the best for Irina. How were they supposed to teach Irina English and Russian if their resume was full of grammatical errors?
Celine’s kind and caring nature is what Irina needs.
“How wonderful,” Mother Superior says. “I’m so pleased. How is Irina?”
“She seems to be settling in well. She hasn’t quite grasped the concept that her room is hers. She believes she’ll need to share one day soon.”
Mother Superior chuckles. “I bet you’ve spoiled her.”
Thinking about her pink bedroom and abundant toys, I smile. “Not nearly enough. You must come visit.”
“I’d love to.”
Clearing my throat, I decide to cut to the chase. “I know you said there was no paperwork on Irina, but I’m desperately trying to uncover her roots. Is there anything you can remember that may help?”
“I don’t know what to tell you. All she came here with were the tattered clothes on her back. I have some photos I can email to you. Maybe you’ll see something that I didn’t?”
“Yes, that would be very helpful. Was a…complete physical examination done?” This is the nice way of asking if the doctors looked her over to detect any sign of s****l abuse.
“I will send everything I have to you,” she says. I don’t know why she’s avoided the question, but it suddenly makes me nervous.
“Okay, thank you. Your attorney has had no issues with the deed?”
“No. Everything has returned to normal. Well, as normal as it can be after—” She doesn’t continue, but I know what she was going to say.
After Sister Yali was slain.
This will always divide us because no number of apologies and no sum of money will ever be enough to excuse what I allowed to happen.
“Wonderful. I will call soon.”
“Okay and please remember, the orphanage will always be your home.”
A lump forms in my throat, and I quickly say my goodbyes before hanging up.
Taking a breath, I pull myself together. Mother Superior has every right never to speak to me again, but her kindness always has me feeling so unworthy of it, and that’s because I am.
A knock on the door thankfully diverts my attention.
“Enter.”
Pavel appears, looking at the blank space on my wall. “I take it you didn’t appreciate Ms. Oblonsky’s taste in art?”
Scoffing, I lean back in my leather chair. “Just add her to the ever-growing list of disgruntled individuals who will work in our favor.”
Pavel nods. “Very true. The more people who hate you, the better for us. Speaking of…are you prepared for tonight? One hundred and eighty-nine RSVPs came in.”
“There is only one I’m concerned about,” I reply, cracking my knuckles.
“You must take this slow, Aleksei. We are in favor with Santo, and therefore, we have the upper hand. You can’t allow your emotions to cloud that. We need to be smart about this.”
He’s right. Until I can speak to Ella, I don’t know what I’m dealing with. I need to know all the circumstances before I act, and tonight will allow this.
“What of Zoya?” I ask, needing a change of pace.
My mother is still MIA, which is troubling. She is far more unstable than I thought. On her own, she’ll be looking for someone to support her, and I have a sneaking suspicion that person will be me.
- Writer
