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Igor leads us into the house, down an impressive hallway to a large formal living room. There are other men waiting there. Large, intimidating men—including the guy who crashed our housewarming party. Sergei. I feel a chill as he sends me a smug grin.
These men are dangerous.
I gulp. Maybe Nero is making a big mistake by coming here. These are sworn enemies, men who have shed blood to try and push the Barrettis out of their turf.
Everyone already thinks he’s dead, so what’s to stop them from finishing the job?
“This is my wife, Mila,” Igor says, gesturing to a dark-haired woman who joins us. He’s talking directly to me. “Why don’t you enjoy the gardens? They’re lovely this time of year.”
Translation: get the fuck out.
I glance to Nero. He nods, so I leave them to it.
The doors close behind us, and I shiver with unease.
“Come,” Mila says, giving me a serene smile. She clearly has no worries about this meeting. “Would you like a cold drink?”
I think about what Nero said in the car. He needs me to play the part of the perfect wife, so that’s what I’ll do. “I… Sure. Thank you.”
Mila is in her thirties, wearing casual linen pants and a navy blouse that brings out her dark coloring. She stops in the kitchen just long enough to grab a bottle of vodka and two glasses. My eyes widen at the sight of the strong alcohol, but Mila seems unphased. “Forgive the mess,” she says, gesturing vaguely at the spotless rooms as we pass. “This was all very last minute, I believe. And the kids… Well, they can make chaos in five minutes flat.”
She steps through a pair of open French doors, out to a large patio area. Their garden is huge: The lawn rolls down to a pool, and there’s a full playset in the shade, where three kids are currently racing around, yelling and playing together.
Mila leads me to a seating area under a pergola, and opens the vodka. As I take a seat, she pours us each a shot. I sip mine, resisting the urge to shudder at the strong taste.
“Thank you,” I say, even as I wish for water.
“Of course. You’re our guest.” She must sense my nerves, because she offers me a reassuring smile. “They will talk. Just talk. Believe me, Igor would not invite a man under our roof to do him harm. At least, not if he wanted to ever be welcome here again.”
“That’s… Good to know.”
What the hell: I knock back the whole vodka shot, relaxing just a little.
“So…” I search for conversation. I didn’t exactly study up on how to talk to a mob wife. My eyes land on the kids again. Safe territory. “How old are they?” I ask.
The children are playing, climbing all over the playset and occasionally calling out for their mother’s attention. But they don’t need to. She’s already watching them. “The girls are five and seven, and my boy is three,” she replies proudly. “Do you have children?”
“No, not yet.”
She smiles. “They are my greatest blessing.”
“But… Don’t you worry?” I ask tentatively. I don’t want to offend her, but my curiosity is getting the better of me. “I mean, how do you live with the… Uncertainty. Given what your husband… I mean, the way things are?”
Mila pauses. “It’s not so bad,” she replies finally. “I was raised in this life. My father was in the organization, back in Belgrade. That’s how I met Igor,” she says with a fond smile.
“And you don’t mind, what he does?” I ask, disbelieving.
Mila gives me a knowing look. “His hands may get a little dirty, but whose are clean these days?” she asks. “It’s a good life. The kind I dreamed about, back home. We have everything we could need. My children are provided for, they’re happy. He takes care of us.”
I watch the kids as she speaks, and they certainly do look happy. But they are still so young. They don’t know the truth behind this luxurious house, their private school and fancy vacations.
Just like I didn’t, back when I was younger.
But the truth came out eventually. Just like it’ll come for them. And then what will become of their happiness, their security?
A chill runs down my spine, and I realize something. What happens between me and Nero isn’t just about my life right now. The choices I make will determine the kind of life that it’s possible for me to have.
Do I want children in the future? Yes. I always have. But that was before. Before I found myself in a world of car-bombings and faked death and mafia wars. Real danger surrounding me at every turn. I’m already worried about keeping Teddy safe. I can’t imagine putting more innocent lives on the line.
