[Uhaku]

CHAPTER 6



In front of her apartment building, Lena grumbled at the sight of her crimson Cadillac covered in thick snow. She had bought a secondhand one, older model than the previous one sank in Lake Michigan. But this already turned out to be a bad start of the day. She had to dig up the snow with one hand.

Grabbing the shovel, she began the task. Although she had hundreds of millions in her several bank accounts, under different names, she decided to move to a modest neighborhood. Besides Roland, no one knew the whereabouts of her home. She rather stayed low key since the lake incident. They had yet to know who hired the hit men. Those men must have followed her from her place and decided to attack her when she was out in the remote area.

She chuckled at the thought of Yulia and how the young woman sneaked into the backyard a few nights ago. But she couldn’t think of a reason for Yulia to be there when Roland already left. Yulia couldn’t have wanted to thank her that much.

“She must be a really lonely, mink bitch,” Lena muttered to herself, prowling the snow off the car’s roof.

“I could give you a hand, and I don’t expect tips either,” a voice came.

Lena turned. Yulia was standing right behind her, unexpectedly not in a mink coat, but a brown, worn jacket, a pair of calf-length trousers, a taxi’s cap and a pair of really nerdy glasses. Obviously, Yulia must have plenty of this type of costume to elude her father’s eye.

“Mr. Myer is to be blamed, Irish,” Yulia whispered mischievously.

Roland had taken Yulia out for dinner a few times already, strengthening their connection with Mr. Volkov. But he was careful not to take things too far, fearing it might upset Dimitri.

“I’m not an Irish,” Lena said as a matter of fact.

“Are you Lena?” Yulia said accusingly.

Lena hadn’t told Yulia her real name, but she didn’t really care; Roland would have revealed it eventually.

“Men with guns are sexy. Unfortunately, women with guns turn out to be boring, or are you just a bad example of them?”

Lena kept prowling the snow.

“Where are you going anyway?” Yulia asked, irritated.

Lena handed Yulia a key to her room. “Since you don’t need any tip from me, go to my room and bring the boxes down.”

“What boxes?” Yulia reluctantly accepted the key.

“All of them.”

“Don’t tell me you’re moving again!”

Lena stared squarely at Yulia. “Roland must have forgotten to inform you this bit of my daily plan.”

Yulia instantly looked down.

“Why are you following me around?”

Yulia didn’t respond.

“I saw you at the corner of Illinois, watching me the other night.”

“I was bored recently… often…” Yulia mumbled.

“I figured that. But I’d appreciate it if you’d stop it.” Lena took the key back from Yulia and put it in her pocket. She drove away, leaving Yulia at the sidewalk.



.................................................. .................................................. ........................
CHAPTER 7



Standing in front of the mahogany door to Dimitri Volkov’s mansion, Lena watched one of the guards driving her old Cadillac around the fountain to the parking space behind the building.

“I’m not ready,” Lena said, one hand sinking into her pocket. She turned to Roland.

“Did I tell you to be nice to her? You’re too straightforward sometimes.”

“But I rarely had to meet any of our business partners,” Lena insisted. She felt uncomfortable enough with one arm in the cast, not to mention the black gown Roland bought and forced her to wear for tonight’s dinner.

“Dimitri was not pleased at your absence last time. Unless you don’t plan to do business with him again, go tell the guy to get your car back here.”

Lena wanted to do just that, but didn’t think it was such a good idea to ruin Roland’s evening now.

“Look, Dimitri is different. He isn’t just a mafia, but a friend with many politicians. This is one step up we should take, Lena. I don’t wanna stuck being just a street mob forever.”

“I thought we only want to get rich and then bail out of this business—”

The door opened, revealing a maid in black dress. Roland smiled and went in first. Lena followed.


>>>


In the large study room, Dimitri stood by his oak desk, grinning as he observed the Irish. From his gaze, Lena knew she was nothing Dimitri had imagined. With long hair and rather pale, slim stature, her look fitted to be one of his maids.

“It is my pleasure to meet you,” Lena said. She hesitantly shook Dimitri’s hand. Her social graces were a little dull.

Dimitri firmly drew her hand nearer to his face. “Could this be the hand that gunned down that bastard Mason?” Smiling, he kissed her hand.

“It can’t be no one else’s, but there’s no need to thank me,” Lena said, letting Dimitri hold her hand all he wanted. She found no compliment in it. ‘The Irish’ had made her fortune but also brought her troubles every so often.

The door swung open and Yulia Volkova came through. The young woman had returned to her usual clothing. Upon seeing the guests, she immediately took off her glasses and roughly stuffed them into her pocket.

“This is my little kitten, Yulia!” Dimitri cheerfully gestured Yulia to come closer.

Lena surely had noted the absence of the stalker during the past week.

“We’ve met,” Yulia said. She offered no handshake, but Lena didn’t expect to receive one anyway.

“I brought Lena to one of Yulia’s splendid parties,” Roland quickly added.

“Where’s your brother?” Dimitri asked his daughter.

“He left for a skiing trip this morning, papa. Didn’t you see him?”

Dimitri cursed under his breath. Yulia moved beside him and slipped her hand around his arm. “Dinner’s ready, everyone,” she said.

Dimitri gestured at Lena and Roland. “Please.”


>>>


At the long dinning table, Roland sat next to Lena, Yulia to her mother, while Dimitri took the position at the head.

“I had just come back from New York this afternoon. I apologize for this graceless preparation, as you can see,” Mrs. Volkova said, smiling lightly.

Roland smiled back at the beautiful, middle-age woman, thinking how lucky Yulia was to get most of her facial features from her mother. “We feel honored already,” he said.

“Are you finding the meal all right?” Mrs. Volkova asked.

Lena’s head shot up when she realized the question was directed at her. “Yes, I—” she said, the fork slipping from her hand and dropping onto the floor. One of the maids promptly handed her a fresh one.

“Thank you,” Lena said.

“Irish is rather nervous here tonight. How threatening your dinner is,” Roland commented lightheartedly.

Dimitri laughed in delight. “Would you like some more wine?! More wine?!”

Yulia raised her own empty glass at the maid, while she looked at Lena’s full glass. “Is our wine too coarse for your taste?” she asked.

“I’d love a beer, if you got some,” Lena said quietly, sitting back.

Roland sensed the tension, but kept his cool smile.

“Beer…? Of course—yes, we do. Angela?” Mrs. Volkova waved for the maid and ordered her to buy some beers from the only market located two miles from the ranch.

“Rough woman, I see! Very American!” Dimitri said.

Lena smiled for the first time tonight. “Everybody is an American here. Even your drivers who don’t speak English at all hold American citizenships, I believe.”

“Well, yes, we’re in the land of promise! I still think of the first day I arrived New York City! I knew just what we could do here! Everything! And here I am!” Dimitri laughed.

“Are you really an Irish?” Mrs. Volkova asked.

Roland took it that the woman was genuinely puzzled.

“Not that I know of,” Lena replied with ease. “I grew up in an orphanage. I’ve never met my parents before, but it doesn’t bother me. I just know I’m American.”

Mrs. Volkova now had a reluctant look on her face.

“I met Roland after I was old enough to leave the place. He helped me find me a job at a factory, and we became friends afterwards,” Lena added.

Roland smiled, relieved at this. He secretly cursed himself for thinking that Lena might embarrass him. He should have known her better.

“Here, let me help,” Roland said, taking the fork from Lena’s hand and starting to cut the meat for her.

“Should we be expecting an invitation card to your wedding soon?” Yulia briskly asked.

Roland looked up, perplexed at Yulia’s slightly aggravated tone. Although he never considered a romantic relationship with her, the possibility now seemed enticing.

“We’re very close friends and will always be,” Lena said, picking a piece of meat with her free hand and popping it into her mouth.

Roland tried his best to ignore Lena’s attempt to put off young Volkova. But he didn’t know if he should be relieved or saddened that Lena made it clear that they would never be anything more than friends.

“You’re something! I like you!” Dimitri then began eating with his hands, too.

Mrs. Volkova watched her husband in wide eyes.


>>>


After the dinner, Lena followed Dimitri to the second floor. They entered the largest living room of the mansion, which surprised her that they kept it upstairs. To the balcony, they stood, facing the chilly wind.

“It is a beautiful night!” Dimitri said.

“It’s too cold for me.” Lena rested her hands on the concrete hedge, looking down at Roland and Yulia on a stony bench in the front lawn.

“This is nothing for us, Russians!”

Lena just nodded. Whether it was true or not, she didn’t know. With the fierce, freezing wind, Chicago winter already felt like Antarctica’s.

Dimitri watched his daughter and the man below. “Is Mr. Myer truly available?”

“He’s always available.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Irish. My daughter is a grown up now, and I’m a very liberal father! I let her do whatever she likes!”

“Like taking the bullet for you?”

Dimitri smiled even wider. “I’ve heard so much about you, and I know how hard to gain your friendship. Tonight, you don’t pretend otherwise.”

Lena gave a genuine smile back, and saw that he was pleased.

“Mr. Myer is looking forward to our next meeting with my friends. Will you come? Somebody loves to have your autograph.”

“With my blood, perhaps.”

Dimitri laughed. “I know why you were absent from our last meeting. I’ve learned of your accident a few weeks ago.”

Lena instantly turned to Dimitri. Roland had yet to find out who hired the hit men.

“How long were you going to hide the fact that my daughter was with you that night?”

Lena didn’t avoid Dimitri’s glare. She simply stared back. “As long as it wouldn’t interfere with our business. But it doesn’t seem to matter now.”

“It’s all right!” Dimitri burst out laughing, pounding his fist against his chest. “My daughter begged me not to have bodyguards around her, and I granted her wish. If she were hurt, I’d think of it as her unfortunate moment. We all got bad days…! But all I want from my business partners is honesty, you do understand.”

Lena nodded. She wondered why Dimitri broke this news to her, not Roland. They seemed to know each other better, and especially now that Roland seemed to be entering a new phrase of relationship with his daughter.

“Mr. Myer is a smart, young man, but I see you have the guts! I’m not a sexist, Russian hoodlum, you see! It’s 1930s, and women conquer America already!”

“We won’t see Miss President anytime soon,” Lena said. She couldn’t care less if she got the right to vote now. She didn’t know many politicians, and dreaded the thought of getting to know more. However, Roland was underestimated. He was more than her right hand. He saved her life several times and guided her to the right paths. It was ‘the Irish’ that always unjustly took away the credits he deserved.


>>>


Lena came down the stairs to the front door, waiting for the driver to retrieve her car. Roland was still inside, speaking to Dimitri and his wife. She could hear their loud laughs and chattering from where she stood, and she didn’t know how much longer she had to wait for Roland.

Unexpectedly, Yulia came out first, and they stared at each other. Leaning against the doorframe, Yulia crossed her arms over her chest. The wind blew her blonde, shoulder-length hair to the back, exposing the unfriendly gaze from the large blue eyes.

“It was a pleasant dinner. Thank you,” Lena said, looking over her shoulder.

“Did you wash your hands?” Yulia looked away, clearly irritated.

“I licked them clean.”

“Urgh,” Yulia groaned, making a disgusted face.

“Why, I don’t plan to hold anybody’s hand tonight,” Lena said in a light tone.

Yulia looked up, and her stern facial expression softened at Lena’s small smile. She cleared her throat and said, “My father must have told you that he found out about the incident.”

“I thought he was going to spank me.”

Yulia tried to suppress her smile, but Lena could see it through.

“Will Roland drive? With—with your arm like that, you should let him drive.”

Lena nodded a little. Something was going on here. Volkova seemed to be interested in her business too much. It must be ‘the Irish’ again. So many people were drawn to the myth that Lena could easily start a fan club.

“I’m still waiting for an apology,” Yulia said, titling her head back against the doorframe.

Lena frowned, puzzled.

“For dumping me in the middle of nowhere like that. Don’t tell me you have already forgotten about it.”

“You didn’t say sorry when you bumped into me in the street either.”

“Oh, Holy Mary! And just because of that, you had to drag me and left me in the middle of the snowstorm!?”

Often times, Lena just did it out of spite, no other solid reason. She still thought Yulia deserved it.

“Last thing Mason knew was that he stepped on my toe,” Lena droned.

Yulia stared at her. “For real!?”

Lena chuckled without the sound as she saw Yulia’s mouth opened in awe.

Yulia grumbled, realizing it was only a joke. She was momentarily filled with ecstasy, thinking that she had the truth behind Mason’s murder. But Lena wasn’t going to explain. She never planned to, even to Roland.

Lena sidestepped to let Roland walked through the door, Dimitri and his wife closely behind. They then bid farewells and got into the car.

Yulia watched the old Cadillac passing beyond the high fence of the ranch. She still couldn’t wash away the image of Lena standing in front of her. The yellow light from the European-style lantern above illuminated upon the curtains of dark red hair. With the bright, green eyes hidden behind the deep sharp shadows and the faint smile that looked both angelic and evil, the Irish possessed a strangely ethereal, but also menacing air around her.

“Brave, young girl, but reckless. Reckless! I might send bodyguards to stay with her twenty-four, seven from now on.” Dimitri laughed and exhaled the cigar smoke.

“Have you found out the people behind it?” Yulia asked.

Her father wrapped her in a gigantic embrace. “Not yet, and keep in mind that we don’t always find solid proofs. In time, she’ll learn to see through it.”

Yulia frowned, confused and worried at the same time.

“Honestly, pumpkin, as long as the target wasn’t you. And I thanked God nobody was foolish enough to try.”

“Can you stop having Mitch following me everywhere I go?” Ever since the lake accident, she knew her father had her watched at all times.

“I was considering that since you haven’t stalked Irish for a week now.”

“Stalked!? I did not—”

“My little kitten, I used to stalk my hometown’s hero, too, so I know. I know! But it’s not safe to be around her at the moment.”

“Did grandpa stop you back then?”

“Your grandpa was the hero!” Dimitri laughed and walked his daughter in.