As the car with the blacked out windows was pulling up to the gated entrance I wasn't surprised to see the very large home my father and brother's will be staying in while they're here. It's gated for their protection and it's luxurious and spacious because they wouldn't settle for anything less.
Nerves sat in my gut all last night and into this morning. My nerves are shot at this point, but still my insides clench at the sight of the opening gate and looming front door.
It isn't the exciting jitters you get when seeing family after a long time. It isn't warm. It's cold and it's calculated, the feeling between myself and my family.
It wasn't always this way. I grew up with a loving mother who gave me the best life she could manage while being a Russian immigrant technically running from her crazy ex husband. It never felt that way inside our home though. She always warned me how to live a precautionary life, but she wouldn't scare me with the details.
It was all like learning the rules of life as you grow up. It was just a thing amongst other things. That's until my mother died in a car accident. How cliche a way to lose a parent. My only parent as far as I'm concerned.
I guess my father was informed of her death due to them being previous spouses. I don't really know how he was alerted to that, but he showed up not long after she was gone, and it's everything my mother wouldn't have wanted.
I feel no familial bond towards the Petrov men. Not really. I didn't grow up with them. Well, I did until I was seven and then we ran off to America, and I met them again when she died and only lived with them a few years before I managed an excuse to run off again.
My brother's aren't even my full brother's. They're my half brothers all connected through my father. My father has many children from various women. Like the half sister I've mentioned from a different mother. But I actually like her.
I'm not Vitaly's only daughter, but I am his oldest daughter. That's why a lot of responsibility falls on me. That and because I swear my father holds contempt against me because of my mother.
My mother is probably the only person who has ever successfully gotten away from him and stayed that way. That was a dangerous life, a dangerous choice, but I never felt afraid or unloved. Not one single day.
I miss my mother a lot, but I promised myself I wouldn't let it cripple me. My mother wanted me to be full of life, so why would I waste that life after she's gone? I live for her.
Today doesn't feel like any of that though. Once the car stopped in front of the house I thought I might have a damn panic attack at the thought of getting out of this car and going inside. It sounds dramatic, right? It sounds dramatized that I consider these men to be the end of the world for me. But when choice is taken away from you isn't that exactly what that is?
The end of your world and the start of playing a part in another person's world for you.
"Miss Petrov" I heard the heavy Russian accent of the man who drove me here. He realized I hadn't exited the car yet and was peeking at me through the rear view mirror. Boris was already outside of the car, and he rounded it so he could open my door for me. Not necessary at all, but he probably knew I wouldn't get out myself if not for his small push.
There were all types of scowling men with large guns and black guardsmen uniforms. Not much different to what my father has around his house in Russia.
Vitaly Petrov is the boss of the entire Russian Bratva mob. My brother's Dmitriy and Andrei are the underbosses.
"Miss Petrov..." I heard my name again. I didn't realize how literally frozen in place I felt until I was facing the door and not moving towards it. Boris had to literally, but subtly, move me along so I could actually get to the front entrance, now wide open and waiting for me.
Oh fuck me sideways. I'm dreading this.
There was a woman holding the front door open and her face was entirely serious. She bowed her head to me before stepping back and motioning with her arm where I should begin to walk.
Of course the Petrov men didn't greet me at the door. No. I gotta go to them.
Boris was a few steps behind me as he's meant to be, but I noticed him wiping beads of sweat off his forehead several times on the car ride over here. I know he's as nervous as I am. Most people who work for my father are petrified of him. It keeps them in line. It keeps them loyal.
When the woman in front of me stopped I stopped three steps behind her, which meant I couldn't fully see inside the room she was taking me to. But I knew who was waiting there. I knew I had to walk in.
Taking a deep breath I quickly glanced back at Boris before walking forward. Walking past the lady and into the room. All eyes shifted up to the doorway.
"Um, hello" was my grand reunion with my family. I had walked into some type of sitting room where my father was propped up in a single armchair with his arm on the armrest and a drink in his hand. My brother Dmitriy was lurking by the window with his hands behind his back, and Andrei was plopped on the long sofa carelessly.
All wore the same stone expressions.
Vitaly Petrov, my father, has darker blonde hair going grey, steely blue eyes, and a stern, cold expression. He's got a small gut now that he's aging, but not by much.
My oldest brother Dmitriy is 30 years old. He's meant to take over as the boss one day. He's very business oriented like my father is. Business over everything. Even me. Dmitriy has the same yellowish hair my father has, his same steely eyes, and he wears a perpetually mean glare, especially with his deep set eyes.
He's long limbed, strong, and a complete asshole.
Andrei is the second oldest. He's 25 years old and he's meant to become the full underboss once my eldest brother steps into his role. He has my eyes, which is more of a bright chlorine blue. Pale hair and high cheekbones, which makes him somewhat attractive I guess. The handsome troublemaker type.
He's also got the perpetual glare expression down pact like my brother and father do. He's got the tendency for violence and he's tattooed, so yeah he's the formula for the perfect bad boy villain.
And he is, a villain that is. They all are.
"Aleksandra" my father's deep voice called me the name I don't like being called. It's my birth given name, but my mother changed my name to Lexi. They refuse to acknowledge that though.
My father stood up and I wasn't sure if I was meant to hug the man or just wait there like an idiot, unsure of herself in a way that I never am. But when he took a step towards me I took a step towards him, and then he placed his hand on my shoulder and looked me up and down.
"My beautiful daughter" were his next words to me. He looked pleased.
He's pleased because he wants to use me to lure in other mobsters they wanna do business with. Sick fucks, using me as a pawn like a meatstick to a starving dog.
That's all the man said to me too. He just patted my shoulder with his heavy hand and took a step back so he could swig the remaining contents of his drink.
"Little sis," Andrei nodded to me from the sofa he didn't bother standing up from. My gut clenched when Dmitriy walked over to me. He removed his hands from behind his back and surprised me when he gave me this weird sort of half hug. He released me within seconds and nodded at me as he began to speak.
"Long time," he said.
I've been away modeling and moved to New York when I could. I barely spoke with them during that time. They really only call to check in to see if I'm behaving.
Instead of addressing me, they looked past me and addressed Boris who was respectfully behind me with his head bowed. "Anything to report? Has she behaved?" My father asked Boris.
"Yes gospodin, nothing to report gospodin" was his immediate response. Gospodin is like the proper way to address an honorific man in Russian. Like 'sir' respectfully.
"Dismissed" my father gave a slight wave of his hand to Boris. My bodyguard promptly bowed his head again and left the room. Now it was just me and them.
Vitaly waved me to have a seat next to my brother. When I sat Andrei annoyingly fussed with my hair like I was a kid. "Did Boris mention my offer to live here, in our American based home?" Vitaly asked me. I tried not to snort a laugh. I don't wanna end up on the wrong foot with them so soon. Though it's bound to happen.
All three men were in relaxed versions of their suits and they mostly stay that way. Andrei sometimes is in normal wear, which for him means a tight black tee showing off his tattooed muscles and jeans. I call him heavy footed because his boots always clunked down the hall when I was still living with them back in Russia.
"Otets, I don't want to give up my lease for the apartment I'm in. I won't find that rate again once you're gone" I told him. Mostly in Russian as they barely speak english unless necessary. Otets means father, but in the formal and non affectionate way. I know it annoys him when I address him that way, but that's what he gets from me.
I usually call him Vitaly behind his back and he'd be furious to know it.
"If all goes well with our negotiations we'll have a permanent home here for when we fly back and forth for business. And besides...you won't need an apartment if they accept our offer" my father hinted to something.
I cringed at its meaning. He wants to marry me off. Like some fucking ancient peace treaty where women are property. It infuriates me.
The thing is, they'd probably kill me if I stood against them and refused. Like I've mentioned plenty, I don't have a choice. My freedom was lost the moment they touched down on American soil.
I grit my teeth and tried to control this fire licking up inside me. My anger, my nerves, my stress. I grieve my mother most when I'm near these people.
They want me to give up my apartment. My only space away from them. I can't live with these people, but how do I say that without starting a huge fight? Guess I'll have to try it out and see. Like skipping through a damn land mine field.
"I don't want to live here" I stated plainly. Andrei smirked wickedly from beside me, Dmitriy stood beside my seated father like his shadow, glaring, watching. My father slammed his fist on the armrest of that plush maroon chair beneath him. He carries proud shoulders even while sitting down.
From what little I've seen of this place so far it's giving me a modern day aristocrat vibe. In this sitting room is some well crafted furniture all in rich colors with the other decorum, an heirloom chandelier, and generously applied fabrics.
The walls feel too busy with stuffy frames of various not very interesting paintings. Terracotta lamps in corners on side tables to give the room odd dim spaces of light to create shadows against surfaces.
"You'd rather live in a dump than live in luxury with your family!" Vitaly raised his voice, but hadn't totally lost it yet. I looked between my brothers and him, deciding what to say.
"Otets, I want a space of my own. Give me at least that much freedom" I decided to sort of ask-sort of tell him. His face darkened in a terrifying way. He tightened his already closed fist.
"Giving a girl freedom is basically giving her room to make mistakes with the men who prey on that freedom" he said the word 'freedom' with an exaggerated tone. He basically just said, "You'll whore around and ruin my plan to marry you off as a white lily virgin."
I mean seriously?! I usually time how long it takes for me to start a fight. This time was all of five minutes. Bravo Lexi.
"Are you kidding me? I'm not an idiot. I think I can handle myself just fine" I spat. Andrei's smirk only grew, Dmitriy's frown deepened, my father's fist slammed again, but it was joined by him leaping to his feet.
It made me flinch when he rushed forward. He yanked me up on my feet and glared down at me like a frightening tower of a man. They all have height to them. Even for someone like me with model height.
"Yeah, your mother thought she could handle herself too. And all she did was bring me shame! You do as I fucking say!" He shouted at me.
I shrunk down an inch or two, but I was starting to tremble from rage not fear.
"Don't talk about her," I warned him. It was evident in my tone that that was a warning. He laughed. The bastard chuckled sardonically at me and shook his head like I was a fool.
"You're gonna learn, Aleksandra, that you hold little power in this world" he mocked me. I felt myself flush with the mixture of very intense emotions all coming to the surface at once. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
I just stayed pinned into place between three sets of cold blue glares looking back at me.
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Author's Note: What do you think of the Petrov men so far?
ALSO: I post every Monday, Wednesday, Friday at 3pm (est) for those of you who were asking.