Chapter 17

"Is this how it feels to be kidnapped?" I asked my uncle for the fifth time.

"Depends why we're here. It might be human trafficking. Who knows with the old man?" Trey answered me.

We were sitting around a ginormous table, me and all my uncles and aunts, in a private room in a restaurant in fucking New York City.

My grandfather had sent a car and a jet to get me here for the evening. Apparently I had to be at this dinner.

I assumed he was going to throw a butter knife in the room soon, and watch from a balcony as we all fought to the death.

I was the only grandchild around the table. Only my uncles and aunts were there. I guessed it was because at this little family gathering, I represented my father's line of the family.

Finally, my grandfather walked into the room with a gorgeous woman at his arm, greeting us.

Everyone groaned around the table.

We all knew why we were here now.

"Is this serious Dad?" Harvey asked, looking fucking pissed.

I laughed behind my glass. I didn't care about my inheritance, so I didn't care that my grandfather kept growing the ranks of the people to put in his will.

My uncles and aunts cared though.

"Harvey, don't test me," grandfather dearest said, glaring at his son.

"And why are you freaking out Harvey? Clearly you're still not qualified enough to be partner at the firm if you didn't even know our father was seeing another woman," Bill said.

Darren had his arm raised in the air, yelling "WE'RE GOING TO NEED MORE BOOZE HERE."

"Darren, just leave and go piss in a flower pot again, so you can be banned from this restaurant too," Francis another uncle said.

One of my aunts was taking her phone out and making a call.

"What are you doing Jane?" grandfather dearest asked.

"Calling my fucking therapist. I'm going to need to meet him after this."

Trey and I both snorted.

Grandfather dearest just rolled his eyes and finally said, "Sons, daughters, grandson, this is Ekaterina, my fiancée. I popped the question and she said yes. We're getting married next month."

"Why the rush wedding father? Did you knock her up?" Sylvia asked like she already knew the answer.

And my grandfather didn't answer, he just kinda smirked.

Of course he fucking did. That goddamn sperm factory. How could this old man still be fertile?

Everyone started to argue around the table, giving their opinions about this future union while Trey and I just kinda cackled under our glasses.

I had to give it to future wife number nine. She didn't look fazed. She just kept smiling.

You had to be tough to marry this old man.

Finally, grandpa whistled really loudly like we were a hoard of rabid dogs he needed to reign in.

Everyone shut up.

Grandpa started to introduce everyone around the table to his future wife.

Twelve uncles, four aunts, and little old me.

When it got to my turn, the future wife rejoiced and said happily, "Oy, Nikusha, ochen priyatna!"

My whole body froze. All the eyes turned to me. My uncles looked eager for some drama, for a wound they could pounce on. You should never show weakness at my family gatherings. It was ammunition for the future.

I hadn't heard anyone call me Nikusha since my mother died...

"Love, maybe don't call him that," my grandfather said softly.

Bachelorette number nine smiled at my grandfather, unaware of the commotion around the table. "Oh, sorry, I've just heard so much about you," she said to me, with a soft Russian accent, reminding me of my mother again.

Apparently she hadn't heard enough about me.

I took a breath. I tried to relax. Trey's hand was holding on to my arm like he was worried something might happen. I turned to him and smiled.

I was okay. I was going to be okay.

I turned to my future step-grand-mother.

"Eto ne seryezno Ekaterina. Priyatna paznakomitsa," I answered her.

It felt... almost wrong to speak in Russian again.

Russian was my childhood, my mother singing nursery rhymes to me. I never ever let myself think about that.

It was way too fucking dangerous for my mental health.

I hadn't talked in Russian since... well my mother again. Since I was nine years old.

The uncles looked fucking giddy about this moment of weakness. My grandfather looked sorry. I gave him a little shrug to let him know it was okay.

It was fine. It was just my heart getting ripped out. No big deal.

Everything happening around the table after that felt a little inconsequential. It wasn't this poor woman's fault, that she didn't know about all my troubles.

My grandfather and my father used to call me Nikusha too. It all stopped though, after my mom died. They all knew. It was her nickname for me. No one ever called me my full name either. It was always Nik now. Just Nik.

My name was hers, and my scars were hers too. A broken woman made a broken child.

After we were done with dinner and the family continued to argue, I got out, and went outside on one of the balconies to get some air.

Trey followed me a little while later.

"You okay?" he asked me softly.

"I need a smoke. And a drink. A drink and a smoke," I informed him. I needed something, anything to be distracted and stop spinning old memories and hearing my mother singing softly to me lyuli, lyuli, lyulenki, letyat sizy gulenki.

"Want me to swipe one of grandpa's fancy cigars and go drink scotch in the lounge?" Trey offered.

I looked at him, and gave him a weak smile. "Yes."

I followed him to the smoking lounge where other old men were gathered, sipping on their expensive drinks.

Trey knew what to do so he talked to a guy. The people here knew who he was and who grandpa was. Getting a fancy bottle of booze and cigars to be put on grandpa's tab was quite easy.

We sat down in comfy leather seats, and I lighted a cigar and inhaling the smoke slowly. "I missed smoking, like the action of smoking, the ritual," I admitted.

"You stopped smoking?" Trey asked pouring us scotch.

"I've been trying."

I didn't count this cigar as a relapse. Cigars weren't cigarettes.

Trey snorted lighting his cigar too. "Wow, you must be a pissy mess."

"I'm fiiiiine.," I whined throwing my head back.

"Are you?"

I straightened and looked at my uncle. "Just because some random woman called me by my childhood petname doesn't mean I'm going to lose it."

"I wouldn't judge you if you did... her death anniversary is soon."

Another fun thing to look forward to.

"Yeah..."

"How are you doing?" Trey asked, seeming concerned.

I shrugged and took a sip of scotch. If Tyler or any of my friends back home saw me right now they'd probably throw a fit. This felt a little different though. It wasn't destructive. It didn't feel desperate. "Better than last time you saw me. At least I think."

Trey nodded. "You look less like a mess, that's for sure, but like, still a work in progress."

I snorted. "Jeez, thank you so much, I really needed that."

Trey shoved my shoulder a little. "Come on, let me play my father role here, in my brother's stead."

I raised and eyebrow and took a sip of scotch. "Daddy, I'm older than you."

Trey rolled his eyes. "This is more a transcendental thing Nik, just play along."

"You dipshit."

"You wanna talk about it?"

I stared at my cigar. Took a drag. Looked around at the rich men sitting all around the room. "I don't know. Tyler pissed me off the other day. My friends pissed me off really. I love them, but they kinda... I don't know."

"So, you're annoyed with everyone around you lately?"

"Well, Esther is fine," I suddenly found myself saying.

"Esther?"

I felt a bit of panic at that moment. I didn't know why, but it talking about Esther with anyone felt... dangerous for some reason. Like I needed to keep my relationship with her to myself. But like, what relationship? We were just classmates. "Oh, just someone in one of my art classes. We have a project together. She's nice."

"That's cool," he nodded with a weird smile before drinking scotch.

I frowned. "What?"

Trey chuckled. "What?"

"You're making a face."

"I'm not making a face."

"You are."

"I'm not."

"What is it?" I pressed.

"Is she cute?"

"Oh, fuck off," I whined.

Trey laughed. "It's okay, I'm teasing you, I know you like guys."

"I hate you."

Before he could say anything else, I saw grandpa walking in the lounge. "AH! My favourite son and my favourite grandson."

"Put your money where your mouth is and make me sole heir," Trey challenged him.

Grandpa grinned grabbing the cigar from his hand. "What makes you think I haven't already?"

Trey started to bow dramatically. "Father, you are a wise man and a great leader. I shall follow you forever."

Grandpa looked at me, pointing to his son. "He's a little shit head, isn't he?"

He nodded. "He'll grow up and learn it's not all about money."

"You know it.," grandpa agreed. "It's about having a ton of offspring and getting entertained by their petty feuds. God, I love a messy Christmas dinner. I love a good screaming match. Gets the blood pumping."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Grandpa, you're savage."

He grabbed the drink from my hands and took a sip. "Thanks," he said with a smirk and gave me back my glass before adding, "sorry again, about earlier."

"It's okay."

"It's not, really. Ekaterina was just happy to meet you because I talk about you often. It was a slip up. It won't happen again."

"People are allowed to call me Nikusha you know," I told him, proud that my voice didn't break when I said it.

"You're a good kid, I hope you know that," grandpa said, patting my head, like when I was a child.

"I try."

Grandpa took one last drag from Trey's cigar and gave it back to him. "Alright, back to the circus. You guys are missing out on all the fun. Darren threw a chair and broke it. He's on the verge of getting kicked out. And you know that if that happens, things are about to escalade quite quickly."

Trey and I laughed but didn't follow him.

"Have fun," I said, "And congratulations by the way, for your engagement. I hope you'll be happy with her."

Grandfather dearest smiled at me. "Thanks Nik."

"You're welcome."

"Kiss ass," Trey mumbled.

"OFF THE FUCKING WILL," Grandpa yelled, earning us nasty stares from the people in the room.

"You don't scare me old man!" Trey yelled back.

I laughed at their antics, amused, but not amused enough to not wish I was back home right now.

And I had the weirdest thought. I thought about the fact that if I had Esther's phone number right now, I'd call her.

It was probably because her voice was comforting.

I really was a weird mess...

__________

Sorry sorry sorry! This should have been up sooner but I've been super extra busy and I went to see Black Widow on Thursday so I didn't have time to finish writing the chapter. 

I hope this chapter was fun enough that you forgave me. 

Have you figured out his name by now? XD I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, because I like a a good soap opera family moment and also because I was speaking Russian alone in my room and singing lullabies like a psychopath, trying to write the right pronunciation. If it's shit sorry, my Russian might be a little rusty. 

Anyway! Leaving you alone now! I LOVE YOU GUYS! :D