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“Impressed.” She pops the cookie into her mouth with a satisfied smile. “And a little envious. If I had your talents, my early years would’ve been much easier.”
“Consider me at your service.” She sets her cup down. “I want to help you navigate the next chapter. Women in our world rarely have the chance to choose what their lives will look like, and if I can give you options, I’ll be thrilled.”
I set my cup down. “How long will it take people to discover the same information you have? As far as I know, no records tie me to the Tarasov family.”
“DNA will establish your claim against the estate, but you’re right; the puzzle pieces are too scattered to make it easy to connect Lina, the seamstress, to Anastasia, the heiress.”
“But it’s not impossible?”
“Nothing is. Yuri is the axis on which all this information came together. My husband received calls about the missing heiress, and then Yuri heard your story and put two and two together. That’s a very specific set of circumstances.”
“So this could be no big deal.”
“Yuri told me about the letter you received from your grandmother. If she’s warning you to take precautions, then I think it’s a very big deal indeed.”
“I was hoping you would tell me there’s no target painted on my back.”
“A billion dollars can turn an honest person into an unscrupulous one.” She pauses and looks at me meaningfully. “I know this is a lot to take in, and I will do everything I can to help.”
I swallow the fear that is trying to escape and look over. “I don’t mean to be rude, but why would you bother with me?”
“Because I can.” She covers my hands. “Men in the Bratva or Mafia think they are the only ones that can be a sword and a shield, but that’s not true. I come from a long line of Stregas, which are Sicilian witches. We have been directing our fates for centuries, and I want to spread some of my Italian fairy dust and help.”
“Thank you.” A tear slides down my cheek. “I feel hopeful for the first time since hearing the news.”
“Good.” She opens her purse and pulls out a small laptop. “I’m sure you have a hundred questions, but first, you need to decide who you will marry.”
“Marry?”
“I know, it sounds like a death sentence, but it doesn’t have to be.”
“Why must I marry?”
“According to my husband, the real estate holdings are enough motivation for a Bratva boy to kidnap you and force a marriage.”
“Force. Marriage. How could that happen?”
“You would be drugged, put on a plane to Moscow, married by an unscrupulous official, and then kept a prisoner until you were no longer useful.”
My blood freezes to ice in my veins. I know she’s not exaggerating because my mother’s stories often intimated things like that were possible.
“I’m putting it in the starkest terms so you know what you’re up against.”
“Thank you, Gianna.”
“Don’t sing my praises yet. We still have to pick out a husband.”
“And how will this alleged bridegroom keep the evil forces away?”
“Most criminal organizations have a code of conduct, and no organization respects the bond of matrimony more than the Russians. My guess is that the oligarch’s kids will not put up much of a fight…but the sons of the Bratva Vors…that’s a whole other knish.”
“A little piece of paper and a gold band will make mobsters back off?”
“It will make them pause and if you have the right man standing at your side, that should be enough.” She puts up her hand. “It’s clearly not an iron-clad guarantee, but it’s your best chance.”
“I guess that makes sense. In a weird twisted way.”
“Ancient rules and customs rule the criminal world, and like the laws of any government, the intricacies are sometimes difficult to understand.”
