The Beauty Who Loved Him by Bethany-Kris

13.

“Is he really goingeverywhere we go?” Hannah asked. “Even inside?”

Not loudly enough for Kiril to hear at the far end of the pew. Not that Vera thought the older teen would give a shit even if he had heard the question. Something else occupied his mind and hands, the bible he was pretending to read while a blue-eyed, blonde haired girl two rows ahead continued to peek over her shoulder at him.

He acted like he didn’t notice.

Vera knew better.

“Everywhere,” Vera confirmed.

“But—”

“With the security your mother has paid to tail you for the last year, you’d think you would be used to it by now,” she interjected before her friend could complain further. “Besides, I wasn’t given a choice about Kiril. He’s here whether I want him to be or not.”

Hannah pursed her lips. “Yeah, but the security my mother hired didn’t look like that.”

“I think that’s the point. He almost seems harmless.”

From a safe distance, maybe.

Until one realized Kiril was terribly quick to anger, wasn’t scared of people twice his size, and was damn fast when he needed to be. On his feet and with his fists. She’d seen him take Igor for a round on the grass one evening when the weather was unusually hot for the season, and the two were bored. All good things, as far as Vera was concerned. He could handle himself.

But someone else might not think so.

Hannah lifted her nose a bit at the sight of Kiril, asking, “Or is he just someone to report back about you at the end of the day?”

“Nice, real smooth, Hannah.”

Her friend shrugged under her funeral appropriate black dress. Not too tight. A knee length skirt, no cleavage, and the only thing daring about it was the fact Hannah wore the capped sleeve number with only a grey wool shawl wrapped around her for the weather. “I’m just saying—”

“Shhhh!”

The hissed shush came from an older woman three pews ahead of theirs in the massive church. The white-haired bird even had the nerve to snap at the two women for their disrespect before she huffed and turned back around in her seat with an armful of furs.

It took seconds before Hannah and Vera broke into a fit of hushed giggles that even drew the attention of Kiril down the way. Thankfully, the rest of the church and service remained uninterrupted by the quiet moment in the very far back.

Vera hadn’t realized that Hannah’s ex-husband had ties to such a parish that his desecrated remains were allowed to be buried within the walls of the basement crypt. Then again, his family’s ties to the Federation were rooted deep going back three generations, so what did Vera know? At least a football field in length, the priest at the front was barely a speck to Vera where he stood at the pulpit.

Kinda creepy.

She didn’t like the idea that they were technically walking above dead people. Even if the dead people were special enough to be buried inside, and under, the church. Walking through a graveyard made her uncomfortable enough without adding the extra religion, and a few hundred people who regularly attended the church’s services on top of the rest like a cherry on a warped sundae.

“Not really the best time for this, is it?” Vera asked her friend when Kiril finally went back to pretending like he was flipping through the Old Testament. He did continue to glance her way every few pages, however.

His message was clear.

Knock it off.

“Yeah, let’s not get the puppy barking,” Hannah joked.

Loud enough for Kiril to hear. He guffawed back with a middle finger tossed her way, but silently. The two had just enough class, but barely, not to do it right back. And only because the old woman shot them another glaring look over her shoulder.

Vera couldn’t tell if the service was almost over or not because neither she nor Hannah had bothered with grabbing one of the programs coming in through the doors. Finding a seat as quickly as possible in the very back had been more important.

Hannah and Vera weren’t supposed to draw attention. The only rule of the day the two were expected to follow regarding Viktor’s funeral. Not that Hannah was pleased to agree to any rules when she didn’t know who was making them ... so to speak.

Or that’s how Hannah explained it earlier that morning when Kiril opened the passenger door of his car and delivered the expectations of the day: It’ll be a large service, we’re not trying to be looked at, got it?

“It’s weird,” Hannah muttered.

“What is?”

“A few things, but first, how I feel,” her friend said under her breath. Hannah’s gaze swept toward Vera behind the black lace covering the upper half of her face, and she tipped her matching floppy brimmed hat in her direction.

The black hats and birdcage veils had been a gift that showed up on Vera’s doorstep the night before. Hand delivered by a woman who explained she worked at a specialty boutique in the fashion district, and had received a last-minute call for a very specific order.

Even though Vera fully suspected the morbidly thoughtful gift had come from Vaslav, and he confirmed it when she made a call to him after Hannah went to bed, it made more sense in the morning. Well, after Kiril explained the rule.

“I really thought I was going to feel different about today than I do,” Hannah admitted, peering out into the aisle and down the pews. Quickly, she fell back into her seat and out of anyone else’s view that might be looking. “I don’t feel much at all, I guess. I’m numb.”

“Except maybe happy for his new wife,” Vera said.

She didn’t hide the bite in her tone, either.

Hannah nodded. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Of course, with a funeral that featured well over a few hundred guests scattered amongst a sea of cold, wooden pews ... staying out of the way was a simple task. With the sweeping, heavy curtains framing the balconies overhead, she couldn’t even see if there were more people than she initially estimated. In the end, Hannah really hadn’t minded being told to stay out of sight. It was Vera’s sudden need to be discreet about certain aspects of her life that caused her friend to pick and prod every chance she could.

Vera did well to deflect and excuse her private phone calls and the new, annoying and bossy roommate that came and went from the villa at all hours, but Hannah hadn’t let it go on more than a couple of days before she had enough. Vera respected that her friend at least tried to mind her business.

Even if it wasn’t for long.

“But more importantly,” Hannah said, then, drawing Vera’s attention away from the service, “it’s weird that my best friend goes out and gets engaged without telling me she did as much to a man she won’t even talk to me about. Yeah, that’s weird.”

Her gaze widened on the last word, and then Hannah nodded to add extra emphasis to her point. As if Vera didn’t already understand.

“But is now the right time for us to talk about it?” Vera asked again. “Or, no?”

The funeral spoke for itself.

“Why not?” Hannah asked. “What’s it matter if it’s now or not? The bastard’s where he should be ... dead.”

“For somebody who’s apparently numb about all this, those are very wet tears,” Vera pointed out.

Not unkindly.

Hannah was quick to wipe them away. “I’m glad he’s gone.”

“Yeah, I know, babe.”

Her hand found Hannah’s knee over her black skirt, squeezing tight. It helped to settle the sudden sniffles echoing from under her friend’s veil. Hannah’s constant terror and fear about what Viktor might be planning had disappeared the second a date was posted for his funeral, but being here made it real. His need to torment his ex-wife vanished along with his life. Hannah didn’t think she needed to keep hiding behind the paid protection offered by her mother which in itself was like stepping into a new life for her friend.

“And I’m worried about you,” Hannah said softer. “I used to keep secrets for a dangerous man, too. Once upon a time.”

Vera slumped a bit in the pew, chewing on her bottom lip as she considered Hannah’s pointed remark. Private and dangerous were the only two words Vera had finally offered Hannah to describe Vaslav the night before as the two women pulled back the blankets on Vera’s bed to ready for sleep. All the while Kiril used the spare bedroom with the only other available bed in the villa.

The couch had also been open downstairs. Except she was tired of seeing him sleep on fucking couches.

Vera’s conversation with Hannah about Vaslav had gone on late into the night, whispered into the dark because she honestly didn’t think there was a safer time to talk about a man like him than when one couldn’t even see a person doing it. Despite the prodding, and Hannah did try, Vera was still careful about the details she gave regarding the man she intended to marry.

Instead, she told it like a story.

A broken ballerina who fell in love with a beautiful and sad stranger. She didn’t talk about the fact she believed Vaslav was the head of a very large criminal group or that his declining health found him looking for a wife in Vera.

The story had holes.

A lot of them.

Hannah didn’t miss even one. Never mind that it only took a simple internet search of Vaslav Pashkov’s name for unpleasant information to come up in the droves. Searches that Hannah had not so politely shown Vera in the wee hours of the morning.

The thing was, everybody needed a Hannah in their life. Someone who noticed the holes in their friend’s story and asked the questions that might be uncomfortable. Perhaps if someone had done that very thing with Hannah when her abuse had started with Viktor, things could have been a lot different.

“He’s not like Viktor,” Vera settled on saying.

“I didn’t say—”

“You don’t have to, Hannah, but all the same, for what it’s worth. He’s not.”

Hannah folded her arms over her chest, flicking the ends of her shawl in the process and tucking her crystal studded clutch in the crook of her arm. “But is he worse?”

That was a damn good question.

Vera opted not to answer, but not because Hannah didn’t deserve one. A group of three men slid one after another out of a pew just a few rows ahead, and one aisle over, from theirs. It was the black suits they wore that Vera noticed first. All tailored, smart and expensive. Like the silk underneath each well-fitting blazer. However, when each man left the pew, his hand touched the ball at the back end, carved in wood and stained like the rest.

Tattooed hands.

Rings on the fingers.

A spider on the back.

The group didn’t draw attention as they quickly strode down the aisle and out the doors as a commotion from the front drew the rest of the parishioners to their feet. Vera, Hannah, and Kiril stood along with everybody else even though she didn’t know why. They certainly hadn’t been paying attention to the service, but soon, the low hymn from the congregation buzzed in the air.

The men in black had already passed by their pew. Not one glanced Vera or Hannah’s way, but she hadn’t missed how her friend noticed the men just like she did.

There was another rule.

One that remained unspoken, but was clear to anyone who had an intimate look at the life of made men. Those who knew of the life didn’t speak about it. Things were easier when a person didn’t see, hear, or know a thing about the mafiya.

“You wanna go?” Vera asked Hannah, then, after she was sure the coast was clear, and they could make a clean exit from the rest of the crowd.

Hannah nodded fast. “Yeah, let’s get the hell out of here.”

Fine by her.

While the rest of the church continued singing the dead man to the grave, or rather, the crypt, Vera and Hannah slipped out of the pew practically unnoticed. Kiril wasn’t too far behind the two, but he didn’t offering commentary as he followed along.

“You’re still going to go wedding dress shopping with me next week, right?” Vera asked as the two women exited the doors into the main lobby.

Dress shopping was the only thing she could convince Hannah to agree to where the upcoming wedding was concerned. Convinced that Vera was moving too fast, and proclaiming that she hadn’t even met Vaslav except for that night under the Eiffel tower, she wouldn’t agree to being her friend’s official witness.

Yet.

Vera suspected Hannah would give in eventually.

“Who else are you going to take, him?” Hannah returned, tossing a look back at Kiril.

“Hey,” the kid muttered.

“He’ll go, too,” Vera admitted.

Hannah scrunched up her freckled face. “But like, outside, right?”

Vera laughed. “For that, probably.”

“Well, good.”

“And I did promise to send pictures to my mom, so you have to be in charge of the camera,” Vera added.

Hannah cracked a small smile. “I guess I can handle that, too.”

A low hum coming from inside Vera’s clutch stopped the three from exiting the lobby of the church. Vera pulled the phone out, taking it off temporary silence the second she woke up the screen with a click of the power button only to see a text ribbon waiting for her.

From a new phone number that she had yet to punch in a proper contact for. Although, she knew it was Vaslav’s most recent phone because he started every text message with the same thing, which usually followed an instruction of some sort. A call me or a question in the same vein. Whatever he sent, the first word never changed. Always in English, too, despite the fact he only ever said it to her in Russian.

Kitten.

Phones were just yet another thing Vaslav had too many of. Partly because he often threw them at various other things which meant a device that was supposed to last him weeks before Igor switched it out for a new burner made it through half of what it should before he destroyed it. She couldn’t count the many phone numbers Vaslav had gone through since that first Paris trip.

Kitten. Don’t you know it’s rude to leave a funeral before the final procession?—V.

That was all he’d written, and Vera couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder the second she had read his words and understood what they meant.

Vas was there.

At the funeral.

“Can we get food?” Hannah asked, oblivious to the way Vera quickly stuffed the phone into her clutch. She’d tell Hannah about the text, sure.

Later.

Maybe ...

God.

Vera didn’t know what she was doing anymore.

“Lunch at the cafe by my place?” Vera offered. “They make the fluffy cakes you like with the almonds.”

Hannah peered back through the open doors they had left behind while the rising crescendo of the hymn continued to echo. The place still gave Vera the creeps. “Anywhere, let’s just get out of here, okay?”

Kiril stepped in on the girls’ conversation, and muttered, “Agreed.”