Russian Roulette (Russkaya Mafiya) (20 page)

Tate looks up and his sparkling hazel eyes take me in before they meet my green ones. “Damn, little lamb, you look breathtaking.”

His eyes dilate as he walks toward me. He bends his head down and kisses me on my lips, soft and sweet, while he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his solid chest. He whispers, “Fuck, I love coming home to you. I meant it this morning when I told you I want you to stay here.” Wow, I thought that was just the sex haze talking when he said that earlier.

“I love being here too, Tate, but I also have London to think of. I can’t just leave her when she’s here for me.” I wrap my arms around his neck and pepper little kisses all over his jawline leaving little traces of my lip gloss. It’s okay, I know he doesn’t mind it.

“Then I’ll tell Cam to keep her, too.” He shrugs, saying this like it’s the simplest answer and that Cameron will just keep seeing London, like it’s not their own relationship or anything.

“No, Tate, I will talk to London about what she wants to do first, and then we can talk more about it, okay?” He answers me with a cheeky smile, the answer pacifying him for the time being and he twirls me around.

“Alright, let’s go to my parents’ house, Krasaaveetsa.”

I grab my small purse and head to the garage to get into Tate’s grey, Bentley Continental GT Speed. I broke down and asked him what it was called.
God, I fucking love this car!

Tate pulls out of the garage, heading for the main road. “This car is my favorite, sugar dimples. I love how it sucks me back into my seat when you go fast.” I smirk at him and put my seatbelt on. He starts to laugh and it lights up his whole face. Gosh, he’s handsome.

“I am glad you like her, she is a good car. Would you like to drive her later? Perhaps on the way back?” He leans over, quickly kissing the tip of my nose and I sigh. He’s freaking perfect and I’m the lucky one who has him.

“Maybe sometime, but tonight I want to just sit back and watch you drive her. You look so sexy when you drive.”

“Sexy, huh?” He gives me a cocky grin and I swat at his arm. I relax into the butter soft leather seat and watch the pretty scenery of Knoxville turn into the beautiful scenery of Tellico Lake, where his parents live.

Now, that was a great drive. Thirty miles of highway and his car got to really spread her wings. It felt like we flew, the drive was so comfortable and smooth. Tate’s parents live in a very upscale, gated neighborhood full of mini mansions looking over the lake.

We pull up to a huge house that looks like a small castle made out of tan stone. The yard has a large circular driveway that is lit up and there is a beautiful pond off to the side, at the front of the house. On the opposite side of the house, there are trees and a beautiful wooden pergola with outdoor seating. The house is on just enough of a hill that when you look past the pond you can see a gorgeous view of the lake. I bet the view is even better on the second floor of the house or from the back yard.

Tate gets out, coming around the car and opens my car door. He takes my hand tenderly, to help me get out. While I’m climbing out and attempting to straighten my dress, the front door opens and a tall, lean man walks outside.

He chortles amused, to Tate, “I had to come see for myself if you really brought a date to dinner, moy braat Luka.” When the man finally gets near us, I recognize it’s his brother, Viktor, from the club.

“She’s kraaseevee (beautiful), huh?” he says to Tate, gesturing towards me. Viktor turns toward me, giving me a wink. I have no idea what he called me but hopefully it wasn’t fish food.

“Da, braat, she’s moy Krasaaveetsa,” Tate grumbles to his brother and then glances at me.

“I’m sorry to be so rude, baby. This is my brother, Viktor, the one I was telling you about.”

I put my hand out to shake formally and he laughs at it. “Hi, Viktor. It’s very nice to meet you.” I mumble and peer at him confused; I don’t know what’s so funny.

“No, no, no, Luka’s Krasaaveetsa.” He pulls me to him and gives me a hug.

Tate smirks, so this must be good. I awkwardly pat his back a few times, and then pull away. Tate comes closer, resting his arm around me and I can feel myself start blushing.

“Oh, Krasaaveetsa, Atyets (beauty, father) will eat you up!” He grins wolfishly, “Atyets will love this, Luka. This is what he needs right now, to see you find someone. And such a Krasaaveetsa at that! Christ, your children will be absolute angels!”

Holy fuck!
Did he just say our children? I haven’t even made it in the front door yet. Oh no, I wonder if Tate has a crazy family. I bet that is going to be where all his flaws lay. I’m kind of scared to meet this ‘Atyets’ person. I let Tate lead, entering into the house first. I’m scared to let go of him or they might try to start breeding me before we even sit down to dinner.

I’m instantly astounded. The inside of Tate’s parents’ house is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s decorated in rich colors and golds. Everything implies wealth and it almost feels as if it’s never used, it’s very sterile. I get the whole ‘museum’ vibe from it.

There is one thing that I love as soon as I see it, though. On a side table there are these little, round doll things of all different sizes. They are each beautiful, artistically painted in a variety of colors and don’t appear as if they really belong in this room.

A loud voice booms with a strong Russian accent, interrupting my thoughts. “Those are called Babushka, printyessa.” I jump at the sound, Tate chuckling at me quietly. He shifts us so that we’re facing towards his father.

Konstantin walks to us with his arms spread wide open. I’m assuming it’s his father anyhow. He’s a very good looking man, with stunning features, resembling Tate quite closely. He’s in his mid-fifties I’d say.

Tate walks into his father’s arms and they embrace each other. “Atyets,” Tate states and kisses his dad’s cheek. Konstantin returns the gesture, kissing Tate’s cheek and responds, “Sin(son).”

His father then turns to me and pulls me in for a hug and in a strong Russian accent says, “And you, printyessa, you call me Papa, da (yes)? His smile is dazzling and it reminds me of one of my favorite things about Tate. Once he releases me from his tight embrace, I grin and nod.

“Come, my son and his Krasaaveetsa, let us get vodka and sit for dinner. Viktor, join us!”

I follow the three men who are all well over six feet tall. They make me feel like a dwarf next to all of them. We end up in a bar area that’s richly decorated in wood so dark it almost appears black. The floor is large slabs of travertine in a pale grey color. The walls are decorated with many, large paintings of deer, bears and other animals you hunt. It’s like a rich man’s trophy room of sorts and there is a very pretty blonde lady, who is most likely his mother, sitting on one of the cocktail chairs.

She glares at me, sniffing in my direction with distaste. She turns to Tate, raises her nose and in an entitled voice reeking full of venom asks, “What is this, Luka Tatkiv?” She shoos her hand in my direction, “Why you bring a woman here, to my house?”

Tate huffs, “Mother, she is my Krasaaveetsa. I brought Emily to meet my family and have dinner.” He squeezes my hand reassuringly and gives me a small smile. I squeeze back.
I’m okay right now.

Vivi annoyingly grunts, “Luka, if it is time for you to marry, we will send you to Mother Russia. You get good Russian girl to be your bride. They will know how to take care of you and stay out of your businesses.” She glares spitefully at me the entire time she says this and Viktor laughs loudly. I feel tears burning behind my eyes, but I refuse to let my eyes fill with them.

“Enough Vivi!” Konstantin roars at her. “My son brings his Krasaaveetsa home to meet his family, you shut up, shut up, shut up! You treat printyessa as family, she is my daughter now!” He declares. We all stay silent—including Vivi—after Konstantin’s little outburst.

“Now we eat zazhaareets (roast) and enjoy a good vodka. Come,” he orders a few moments later and we all fall-in to follow him to the formal dining room.

I smirk to myself, I like Tate’s dad even more after that. I wasn’t expecting it to be easy by any means to meet his family, but for his mom to say that shit? That Tate should find someone else all because I’m not Russian, makes me boil with anger inside.

To say dinner is awkward is an understatement. We all sit at this humongous, beautifully carved wooden table in the dining room that can seat twenty-two people. Who on earth has that many people for dinner? That’s what BBQ’s are for. A little, old Russian woman, they call Mishka, serves us ice water and a variety of three chilled tumblers, with a different vodka in each. If they keep this up, I’m not going to be able to walk. Thank God there’s food! Speaking of, whatever we are having smells amazing.

Not too much later, Mishka wheels a shiny silver cart out and puts what appears to be a giant roast on the table. There are a couple other hand painted, delicate china bowls that have a variety of sides filling them to the tops, but I have no clue what they are. It all looks and smells amazing.

“Printyessa, you like zazhaareets (roast)?” Konstantin grins as he inquires. I bet Tate’s dad is a lady killer with that smile.

I nervously giggle a little. “Well sir, I’m not sure what that is exactly, but this food smells remarkable!” I beam a bright smile back and hope he was referring to the food and not my ovaries or something.

Nodding approvingly, “Yes, Mishka is a very good cook. Please eat and enjoy.” I dig in hungrily and I think it’s the best food I’ve ever tasted.

“Luka, did you tell printyessa about what it is we do?” Konstantin gazes over at Tate. I would expect Tate to shy away from this question since the Mafia is so secretive.

“Da, I did. We had a complication arise and a few things were revealed. Emily is smart and figured some of it out before I was able to explain.” Tate glances at me proudly.

“I hope no business complication? Did you need assistance? Or is this the old boyfriend problem? Nikoli handled it, da?” His dad peppers him with questions and it surprises me they are openly discussing this in front of me, over dinner no less.

“Nine (no), the businesses are good. Da, it has been handled, although I handled this case personally. Da, it was the ex. You heard?” His father chuckles when Tate says he handled it personally.

“Ahh, my Luka, the infamous ‘Knees’. Am I right, moy sin, you took out his knees first?”

Konstantin seems to soak up immense joy in hearing about Tate being violent. It’s like he’s very proud of the fact that his son is called ‘Knees’.
Is that even a name?
I have to talk to Tate about this later.

Tate grins and nods in agreement. Viktor starts laughing when Tate nods.

“You see, little printyessa, it is funny to us because the whole time Luka was growing up, if he got into a fight he went for the person’s legs and broke their knees. We thought the poor boy didn’t know how to defend himself. Turns out, he was incapacitating his opponents. Very smart, my son is. As he got older, he got more and more creative in breaking knees and eventually was honored with the name ‘Knees.’ You go to Russia and everyone knows who The Boss is that is named ‘Knees.’ You grow up fast in the life of a Boss.”

I smile at him and hold my breath. Hearing about Tate breaking people’s bones growing up, is not my idea of dinnertime conversation. I just have to make it through this meal and hopefully things will get easier with his parents, with time.

Konstantin bellows suddenly, “Mishka, the торт (dessert)!” I jump in my seat and Tate looks over at me like I’m the crazy one. I shrug and check around for Mishka. She comes walking in unhurriedly, with a huge cake covered in strawberries and a creamy sauce.

“Oh God, it looks so good, and if it’s anything like dinner then she needs to just put the whole cake on my plate!” I burst excitedly, not realizing I just said it all out loud.

Everyone laughs loudly and Mishka looks at me with a smile for the first time. I guess she likes the compliment. Tate’s mom even giggles slightly and her expression toward me seems to begin to thaw. I don’t know if it’s because I made her laugh, or if it’s because of Mishka’s reaction.

Dessert is considerably less awkward and I find myself really enjoying the evening. Konstantin boasted about different stories of the boys growing up and what Russia is like. You can tell that he is extremely proud of the men that his sons have become.

Vivi chimed in a few times with little details. I’m just happy to see her replace the nasty glare with a smile full of fond memories. I was seriously thinking I was going to have to hide all the knives for dinner; luckily she heeded Konstantin’s advice and was polite throughout.

Konstantin shared that they try to spend Christmas at their country house, close to Moscow every year. He said that if the weather permits, then I will get to come with Tate in a few months. I glance at Tate to catalog his feelings about it and he appears really excited at the prospect of me spending Christmas with him.

We eventually finish eating and visiting. I thank Vivi and Konstantin numerous times for having me as a guest. I butter up Vivi with compliments about the food and house, and it seems to break through her shell a little more with each one.

Konstantin leads us to the front door once Tate declares that we are tired and leaving. Vivi embraces me in the foyer and in a strong, feminine, Russian accent she says “Little Emily you must join me for lunch, we have much planning to do.”

I smile, hugging her in return. “That sounds wonderful, Vivi, I look forward to it.”

As soon as she lets me go, Konstantin squishes me in a strong hug. “Little printyessa, you must come pick a Babushka to take with you home.” He beams happily and leads me toward the table.

“Oh no! I couldn’t, they are so beautiful, but thank you.” I look over at Tate and he nods at me, like ‘yes, take one.’

“Da! I insist, please.”

I stare at the Babushkas for a few beats. They are all so beautiful and appear very expensive. I reach out and run my hand over a smaller one that is painted bright blue. This one would look so pretty next to my bed.