Don't look at me

[Sofia Vasilieva]

 
Sofia & Pavel

Pasha adjusted his cuffs and frowned. The look he gave her in response was both stern and perturbed at the observation. Alina swaddled herself in ignorance because she preferred it, but sometimes Sofia thought he still saw them both as little children. Sofia’s innocence had long since been swept clean of being a burden, and Pavel’s own bullet had been the thing to do it. He forgot that too, sometimes. Her gaze slid to the man on payroll, though he was studiously looking away.

“Go get us some coffees,” she snapped. “And not the hospital shit.”

The security glanced at Pasha before he nodded and left. She hated when they did that.

“The only thing I need from you right now, Sonyechka, is for you to stay here and look after our sister.”

“You think Dima didn’t already call me? He’s raging. The Yakuza came to our casino to pull that shit, Pasha. And now this?” She made a sharp and disgusted gesture towards the red stretched skin across his knuckles. “Tell me who is fucking with us.”

“It’s being handled,” he assured stiffly.

“This threat needs crushing, big brother. Not handling.” She almost rolled her eyes. Instead she turned away. Her jaw was tight.

Pavel moved closer.

“We’re being manoeuvred, Sofia," he said. His voice was low, steady. "The casino was a goad; you don’t risk fucking up a play like that when the stakes are so high. We ride this wave before we act. Before any of us act, do you understand me? There will be reparations for how Maksim has been used. But not until I say so.” His fist squeezed at his side. It must have felt like fire. By his darkened expression she knew he meant it, and it placated somewhat to see that side of him. So he was angry after all.

“Someone made contact, then,” she said slyly, meeting his eye fully. He didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. “Seems every other cunt in Moscow can do what I can these days. If someone wants to try and take our city then it’s time to play that hand, Pasha. Take me with you. I’m angry enough for it.” She could almost feel it now at the edges of her senses. Disapproval pinched Pavel’s expression, but she knew she had him when he said nothing. A sweet smile pulled on blood red lips. He saw a woman and a sister, and neither suited for the front lines. But even their father pandered when she pulled their strings. It would only take a little. For now she cut off his deliberation of the objection with a change of tact. “You must have heard of Iásōn? It's all over the social scene. Arrange it for after. Let everyone know we have friends in high places. We’re Vasilievs, brother. Let’s show them who they’re fucking dealing with.”

---

Alina Marveet

He was so quiet. Alina breathed into the comfort of touch and presence, and watched his down turned expression for as long as he held her hand to his cheek. She didn't ask what had happened or why. On the drive to the hospital, Sofia had tried to speculate about how he'd probably brought it down on his own head, until Alina shut the conversation down with such viciousness even her sister had been surprised.

She got up when he asked. Blood stained the suit he'd worn to work that morning, and when she pulled out the device the screen was shattered. No glow flared to life when she held it. She glanced for Maksim's reaction, knowing what he was worried about. Who.

"I think the universe is telling you there will be no work tomorrow. And your wife too, actually." She made a face, then smiled. "I'll have someone call the office. You don't need to do that. Maybe I'm feeling a little sick, else you could take some vacation time?" She returned to his side in earnest. "We could go somewhere. Wouldn't have to see anyone. Honestly, it might be a good idea."