Repaying the Mafia’s Dept

Isabella Dmitri is here again… Why?

I can’t help the hard look I give him as he walks through the door of the cafeteria. Yesterday was bad enough.

My job here at the rehabilitation centre is one of the few things I can do to escape reality.

Just the sight of him drags me back to the darkness of my world. I hate this man with everything inside me. I hate him so much it hurts my heart just to look at him.

I’m not sure how I’m supposed to look at him and not remember the way he killed Eric, the love of my life.Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Under normal circumstances a killer like him wouldn’t be striding toward me without a care in the world. He would be behind bars serving serious time for his crimes.

In my hell, however, he’s my father’s righthand man. Killing got him to where he is today. At the right hand of the devil.

Dmitri is a walking nightmare and that smile on his face continuously mocks me. Every time I see this man… this monster, I get the reminder of my place in this world and that my life does not belong to me. It doesn’t matter where I am. Be it home, or at work. My father is always doing something to put things in perspective.

Usually I can figure things out and I know to be extra cautious. This week, however, has been a mystery.

Something is going on. I’m convinced of it now.

I’m twenty-two years old. If I don’t know by now that there’s never a dull moment when it comes to my father, then I’ll never know.

If something is going on, though, I have a right to know what it is. I hate feeling paranoid. It’s bad enough I’ve had that awful sensation over the last few days that someone is watching me. I don’t need shit like this.

As Dmitri approaches me, Sacha, my bodyguard, glances over from the corner of the room. He must sense something is going on too. Why else would I need two guards to escort me to the meeting?

Dmitri stops, paces away, and gives me a clipped nod, a silent order to finish what I’m doing so we can leave.

I draw in a shallow breath and try to calm my nerves. It’s not time to leave yet. I’m supposed to be here for another three hours. I hate leaving work earlier than planned and for no reason at all.

I’m an assistant psychologist here. My goal is to be a cognitive behavioral therapist and work somewhere like this in the future, working with people who have suffered from trauma and have PTSD. This clinic has been perfect for me to gain all the relevant experience because they have both inpatients and outpatients.

I’m ruled under my father’s thumb, so I know all my goals are wishful thinking but I’ve had this job for the last nine months, straight out of college. That’s impressive on its own and I take it extremely seriously. The Ridgewood Clinic usually selects professionals with more post college experience and qualifications. My acceptance was based on my impressive academic record at Brown University and the three summers I spent here on a voluntary placement. They loved me so much they accepted my application in a heartbeat. I value things like that.

At the same time, I value being allowed to work. It was something I had to beg my father for.

Although he granted the small freedom it came with the condition that like college I had to have my bodyguard with me at all times, and if I was needed to be somewhere he wanted me to be I had to do as I was told.

So, I know there’s little point arguing with any of my father’s guards. Besides, if Dmitri is here that’s as good as my father telling me it’s time to go. I’ll have to leave now whether I want to or not. I would hate for the little freedom I have to be taken away.

I return my focus to Joseph, the patient I’ve been working with today, and try to gather my composure.

“I’m going to hand you over to Belinda, so you can stay in here a little longer,” I tell him.

He’s a linebacker for the LA Gladiators. He came in two months ago after a car accident and has progressed immensely.

He rests down on his crutch and gives me a smile. “Sweetheart, how about I take it from here and make my way back to my room. Belinda is just going to try and give me that disgusting soup, again,” he answers with a chuckle.

I can’t help but laugh. He’s right. That’s exactly what Belinda will try to do.

My coworkers and the patients here keep me going. People like them keep me in touch with reality. They help me to forget who I belong to.

“Are you sure you want to try?” He’s capable and a lot stronger this week than just last week but it’s in my nature to be cautious.

“I’m cool. Trust me.” He gives me a wink and I watch him take his time walking away.

There are many people around, but the second Joseph goes through the double door I feel vulnerable. I feel like I’m alone and exposed to whatever the hell is happening with my father.

Footsteps approach behind me and I meet the cold magnetic eyes of Dmitri. He smiles at me and I wish he wouldn’t.

Sacha hangs back, not daring to interfere. He knows his place and I should know mine, especially with a man like Dmitri. A man just as evil as my father.

“You’re here again,” I state, tensing my jaw. I can’t help it when it comes to him. He knows I hate him, but what I hate more right now is being unable to figure out what’s going on.

“I am here again,” he replies.

Like most of my bodyguards he speaks with a hint of a Russian accent. Mine is completely gone.

I’ve lived in the States for the last twelve years and no one would ever think I spent the majority of my childhood in Moscow speaking little to no English.

“How come?”

“Your father moved up your meeting with him,” he answers in a flat monotone.

I have a Skype call scheduled with my father in a few hours. We have these meetings once a month when he isn’t visiting, and they don’t normally require the attention of his first in command. He also doesn’t usually move the time forward either.

“Is something happening?” I ask.

“It’s a special meeting.” A chuckle rumbles deep and low in his chest.

Special? I don’t like the sound of that. I pray special doesn’t mean my father has found out I’ve been leaving the house at night. I don’t do it often, just when I need a little break. Sacha has been watching my back, and his own. He wouldn’t take a risk that could cost him his life. I think too if my father knew about that, Sacha would be dead. We wouldn’t be having a special meeting for that.

Pushing the worry out of my mind I resume my annoyance. “Is that why you decided to accompany me? How touching.”

“Feisty. V ery feisty. I’m going to enjoy putting that mouth of yours to good work.”

My eyes widen and I blink several times as my cheeks flush. I’m as shocked as I am mortified by his words. Lately he’s been like this. Speaking the vileness of his mind more freely. That was the worst he’s been, though.

“Excuse me?” I counter. “How dare you talk to me like that?”

I sound like I have the balls it would take to take him on. However, a shiver runs down my spine when the humor fades from his expression and is replaced by something cold and dark that reminds me to check myself.

“You watch your tone with me, Isabella,” he warns with a hardened gaze. “I will speak to you however I want, and I’ll imagine that mouth of yours pleasuring me in whatever way I want.”

A smile lifts the corners of his mouth and a lock of his blond hair falls over his eye. His gaze runs down the length of my body, his eyes touching me everywhere.

I’m no fool. I see the way he looks at me and I don’t like it. He’s fifteen years my senior, and he’s been looking at me like that since I was twelve. It’s with lust and desire. Two things that are supposed to be enough to get him killed, yet he does it easily.

No one is allowed to get close to me. It means death. They all know this. They all know what consequences wait for getting close to the daughter of Mortimer Viggo.

Since he was ordered to kill the one and only man who ever got close to me, I know the only way this man could be looking at me in such an obviously sexual way is if he was given permission to do so.

“Let’s go,” Dmitri says and glances over to Sacha, motioning for him to follow as he starts walking ahead of me.

I follow suit and look back at Sacha as he catches up to us. He shakes his head at me. A silent caution to keep my head above water.

I always listen to him. He’s been taking care of me since birth. Sacha is the only one of my father’s guards to show me kindness and treat me like a person. In fact, I think of him as a father. So, I’ll definitely be heeding his warning.

I return my gaze ahead and smile at my work colleagues as I walk through the automatic sliding doors. To them I’m Isabella Baker, daughter of a wealthy, overprotective businessman who insists on his daughter having bodyguards accompanying her everywhere she goes. It’s always been like that.

I must look like some pampered princess, though. Little do people realize, that’s the story we tell to keep us safe. It’s the story I tell to have the small freedoms I’m allowed.

I’ve lived a life more sheltered than most in the Bratva because my father is the leader of the Circle of Shadows. A man people would love to eliminate. No one outside the circle has ever truly met him. They might know his name, but they will never know his face. He’s made it so the name Mortimer Viggo could be anybody.

No one would know just how badly I’d love to escape him. Just thinking of what happened last time I tried makes my soul tremble in fear. The punishment I received was a lesson I’ll never forget as long as I live.

Sacha opens the car door for me and I slide into the back seat. He gets to the driver’s seat and instead of Dmitri getting in next to him like he’s supposed to, he sits next to me.

Sacha starts up the car and we pull out of the parking lot, easing on to the road.

“Careful, princess. Your head might explode if you think too hard,” Dmitri taunts.

I only spare him a glance, taking in the calculative look in his eyes, then keep my focus out the window. Soon I get lost in the passing trees the way I do when I drive my own car.

I’m not allowed to drive further than the city center which is twenty minutes from where I live.

Work is considered too far, and I’m definitely not allowed to drive to the location of these scheduled calls with my father. They take place at the home of Nikoli Solteck, the former brigadier of my father’s brotherhood. The Circle of Shadows are considered Bratva, but they aren’t exactly part of it in terms of the traditional hierarchy and set up. Those of the Bratva my father associates with are few and far between.

We pull up at the house forty minutes later. Nikoli greets me in his usual way, which is cold. Cold like fish, just like my father.

I’m taken to the conference room, but instead of being left alone to speak to my father like I usually am, Dmitri walks in ahead of me.

“Special remember?” he smiles.

My lips part like I have something to say but I’m at a loss for words. Anything that might have come to mind fades when the image of my father’s stern face appears on the large tv screen at the table at the head of the room. His sea green eyes are the only thing I got from him. My platinum blonde hair and petite frame are from my mother.

Dad’s graying head looks grayer than just last month. He also has a haggard appearance I’m not used to. It doesn’t however do anything to dim the flame of power alight in his eyes.

“Dmitri,” Dad addresses him first.

Dmitri nods his respect and takes a seat.

“Isabella,” he says turning his attention to me.

“Hello Dad,” I answer and bow my head in the same respectful manner as Dmitri did. It’s not respect I feel. But what I know I must do.

“Sit,” Dad beckons, and like he’s actually in the room, he motions to the chair before the monitor for me to sit.

I do, bringing my hands together to keep my nerves at bay. As far as I was concerned this was supposed to be the usual monthly meeting. The type a caring father would have to catch up with his only daughter. It’s never like that with him, though. These meetings are to keep me in check. I don’t know what would make this meeting special, however.

“How have you been?” he asks me.

“I’m okay.”

“Good.”

“Is something happening?” I chance the question.

My father chuckles cruel and low, then gazes back at me with a pensive stare.

“My dear Isabella, something is always happening. But I suppose a big something is happening that has reached its peak.” He glances at Dmitri then looks back to me. “Something that requires the need to meet with you both.”

I hold my breath. I can’t even guess what is happening. Dmitri, however, seems to know exactly what’s going on. I glance at him out the corner of my eyes and note his calm demeanor. It’s too calm in the presence of my father. Even for a favored man like him.

Dad looks from me to Dmitri, the suspense killing me slowly as the seconds tick by.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve felt the need to retire and pass the torch to a successor,” Dad states and as the words fall from his lips my heart freezes.

All I hear is retire and successor. The words sink into my brain and as I process them, I know exactly why this meeting has been deemed special.

He’s retiring and who do I think is going to take over from him?

It’s not me. Me, the heiress to his empire. No, no. Sure if he’d had a son then of course. But there will never be a woman leading the Circle of Shadows.

I grip the edge of my seat waiting for the other shoe to drop, because what’s about to happen is something I’ve always feared.

“I have chosen Dmitri to take the lead and one of the stipulations I have imposed on him is to marry you. Your union will carry on the legacy of my blood and my life’s work in creating the Circle of Shadows.”

I’m shaking my head, and on my feet before I can even register what he’s saying to me.

“You want me to marry the man who killed Eric?” I bleat out. The words just fly out of my mouth, pouring from my soul. “Are you serious?”

I know I’ve spoken out of turn, and of anyone, I’m not to speak to my father like this and definitely not in the presence of one of his guards. When I think of how Dmitri killed Eric though I can’t tamp down my rage, nor the shock that’s slamming through my heart.

Yes, I can admit to preempting he would choose someone for me to marry whenever the time came, but I never saw his retirement on the horizon. He’s a man I thought would die on his throne in his rule of tyranny.

“Isabella-” “No, I can’t,” I cut in and a tear runs down my cheek.

When he looks to Dmitri, I experience a flight or fight response, but my body can’t choose which to do. I’m too late anyway to do anything. Dmitri grabs me, hands gripping my throat, a haughty smile lighting up his face at my pain.

I’m choking, gasping for breath, and this man is taking pleasure in my suffering the same way he enjoyed beating Eric to death.

Dmitri turns me to the tv so I can face my father and receive the rest of the orders he has for me.

“This is going to happen Isabella and you will obey,” Dad sneers. “Do I need to remind you what happens to those who misbehave?”

As the words leave his mouth, my skin crawls at the memory of his cruel hand doling out my last punishment. I recall with perfect clarity the sting of the whip on my back. Twenty lashes with a whip for trying to escape and ten more for lying to save my driver who he gave a bullet to the head for helping me.

That was two years ago. I couldn’t walk after for a week. He claims to love me. I don’t know how anybody could treat their own child the way he’s treated me. I’m a thing to him. Property.

Something he can use and exact his power over. That is all I am to him and that day when he whipped me, taking the skin off my back, he nearly killed me. He very nearly did, and I will always remember how it felt. It was almost as painful as watching him kill the man I loved.

The goal of the punishment was to tame me, break me, make me submit to the fact that I belong to him. The hidden lesson being if I want to live any kind of life this is the only way. His way. None other.

That’s how I feel now.

“Answer me,” Dad bellows and Dmitri’s hand tightens around my throat.

“No, you don’t,” I garble.

“Release her,” Dad orders and Dmitri obeys.

I look to the monster who was just holding me with hate in my eyes and he smiles back at me like I’ve said something funny.

“The wedding will take place in six months,” Dad says, and I flick my gaze back to his. “Until then you will get to know each other. Dmitri will alternate the night watch with Sacha and join him on the alternate days. That is all I have to say now. Any questions?”

I have a million, none of which I can ask.

Fear makes me keep my gaze trained on him, knowing I’ll be hurt if I insult him again.

“No sir,” Dmitri answers.

“Isabella, anything from you?”

I shake my head. “Nothing, sir.”

“V ery well then. We’ll meet in a few weeks as per usual. Goodbye.” The screen cuts and the image of my father disappears along with it.

My hands are fisted at my sides and hate fills my heart. I look back to Dmitri, wishing more than ever I could escape.

I open my mouth to say something, but he pounces on me, hands at my throat once again. This time he squeezes so hard I think he might kill me. I can’t even scream out for help.

“Let’s get this straight you little bitch. I own you now,” he taunts. “You will be grateful I want you even after you whored yourself out to Eric. You’re lucky your father didn’t kill you, too, for losing your virginity to one of his guards.”

I’m losing air. The room is going dark and spots speckle my vision. His hands are too tight. The door opens and I’m thankful to see Sacha.

“Let her go,” Sacha demands, and Dmitri releases me.

I cough and bring my hand to my throat. It burns and I feel so lightheaded I just might faint.

With a cruel laugh Dmitri looks at Sacha and shakes his head.

“Get her in the car,” he orders and walks out.

Sacha takes me and I grip on to his hands, allowing the tears to fall.

“You’re going to be okay,” he assures me.

All I can do is look at him. I don’t know how he can say that to me. As I look at him, I realize he must have known this would happen too, but there’s only so much he can do.

He ushers me back to the car.

Dmitri is already sitting in the back waiting for me.

While Sacha starts up the car, I turn away from Dmitri only to be met with the chilling sensation I’ve been experiencing for the last few days that someone is watching me.

I feel it again … so strong I can almost touch it.

I’m always paranoid. Always, but this is different.

As I glance out the window, I see a car off in the distance when we take the corner. We’re far away and moving further, but I’m sure I’ve seen that car before.

At work? Near work? Near home? I’m not sure. I just know I’ve seen it.

My tears blur my vision, and it’s too far to see who’s inside the car, but I can make out a vague figure and I’m sure they’re watching me.

In fact, I know it.

Anyone who’s watching me would only be doing so if they knew me. And if they know me then they’ll only know me because of my father.

There are so many monsters. Too many and in every corner.

Which one is it this time?

Who is watching me?

Who would be foolish enough or, brave enough, to go against Mortimer Viggo?

Maybe it’s the devil himself.