Bargains

(SERGIO)

It's already morning. I head into the kitchen at my usual time. My son is already there with Lucia. But I see no sign of Ivanna. Seemingly, she became too ill from the grappa and wasn't able to eat with us last evening and apparently, she isn't awake yet.

I don't like this one bit.

Karlen and Ivanna seemed so happy in the tasting room yesterday. Unable to help myself, I watched the security footage, soaking in the way she smiled at him, studying the way her lips curved when she smiled at him. It was clear that she liked my son, and I convinced myself that it was a good thing. That was a good sign of their future. A great team working toward the common goal of making the Sakharov family successful.

I press a soft kiss on Lucia's cheeks and head to make myself a cup of espresso. Karlen is on his phone, busy scrolling videos of some kind. He had left for work last night and by the looks of it, was only getting home. "Rough night?" I ask."

Being the respectful son he is, he puts his phone down and gives me his full attention. "No. I was at the club till three. Then we had a shipment to oversee. Everything is going on just fine."

"Any problems?"

"No."

"And you're just getting home?"

A flush works up his face. "I was just out with some friends."

"Getting laid then? Try to keep other women away from your fiancée. At least until after you are married."

"And certainly not in this house." Lucia points out. "Your father and his women are enough. I can't take anymore."

I frown and sip on the bitter brew. Lucia hates that I bring my mistress into our home, but I have no choice. There have been so many attempts on my life and after what happened to my wife, I had to take precaution and learnt to be more cautious. I'm never safe anywhere. Except at my home.

Plus, I'm the boss. I can puck a woman in my house if I want to.

"I won't." Karlen tells Lucia. "I promise."

"Is your fiancée alive? Not too much grappa?"

"She was sleeping last night when I left. I don't think there could have been much remaining in her system at that point."

"Great. Bring her to my office this morning."

Karlen searches my eyes as though he is trying to place my intentions. But I'm glad that he knows better than to question a direct order. "Okay. I'll fix a tray and take it up."

I nod, refresh my café and leave for my office. Maksim will soon be here with updates on the business matters. Until then, I will be reading emails and business ventures and offer my opinions where need be.

In truth, I like legitimate work better. The strategies and moving money around, but I am better suited gambling, extortion and drug running businesses. Not everybody has the stomach to do what needs to be done in organizations like ours. Some days, I even relish the chaos and the violence.

The sun is just rising over the vineyards outside my office window. This is the one sight that has never failed to please me. All this now belongs to me, as it belonged to the five generations of Sakharov men before me. It will eventually belong to Karlen and his sons after him. I wonder if they will appreciate the sights and the smells as much as I do. I love this property, this land that is in my bones, and I will fight for it until I take my last breath. I will kill, cheat or even steal to keep it if need be.

But I wonder about Karlen's lady. Who is he seeing? I trust my son enough to keep the family secrets, but not all women are trustworthy. I should probably learn her name and do a little background check. I'd rather worry over nothing now than regret it later.

About thirty minutes later, a knock at the door catches my attention. "Come in."

A very pissed off Ivanna walks into the office with my son on his side. She holds herself stiffly, and judging by the look under her eyes, I can tell that she is exhausted. She is dressed in just a simple soundness and no shoes. Her skin looks red from being outside for a long hour yesterday. From today onwards, I'll tell my son to insist that she wears sunscreen before stepping outside. The sun here is stronger than the one that she is used to back in Krasnoyarsk.

I rise and shove my hands into my pockets. "Thank you, Karlen. You can go now."

He blinks rapidly. He clearly wasn't expecting to be dismissed. But Ivanna is a stubborn girl and I think that it's about time I dealt with the practicalities of the pending marriage. As the head of the family, it is my responsibility to handle this for him.

Ivanna reaches out and clutches his arm, shopping him from walking out. "Can't he stay?"

I don't  understand why, but for some reason, that pisses me off. As if she needs him to protect her from me. Does she know that Karlen wouldn't dare to question or contradict me? No matter what I wished to do in this house?

"No." I snap.

"I'm off to catch a few hours of sleep." Karlen says then looks at me, nods once then proceeds to leave the room.

"Please." I motion to one of the chairs in front of my desk. "Sit."

She lifts her chin then lowers herself on the seat. I do the same, arms folded over my chest as I regard her. "Are you feeling better?"

"If you mean do I still feel like puking, then no. But I don't feel remotely human right now."

"Maybe next time you should go easy on the grappa."

"Why? So that I can make it easier for you to manipulate me when I'm drunk?"

I steeple my fingers then rest them on my lower lip. "I can manipulate you, Ivanna. Drunk or sober. It's your choice."

"You're the worst man I've ever met." She seethes then rubs her temple. My presence aggrieves her so much, but it only makes me want to rattle her some more. "Get to the point, Sergio."

"Father-in-law." I correct.

"What?"

"Yes. You should learn how to say it."

"You know, on second thought, I think the urge to vomit is back. I think I should head back upstairs."

She begins to rise from her chair and I hold up a hand. "Don't move. We have things to discuss."

"Like what?" she folds her arms across her chest, calling my attention to the gorgeous swells. The sundress pulls right over them, showing off a mesmerizing cleavage. She looks like those pin up movie girls from the 1940s.

"Like your wedding dress."