His Bride

17| Hood

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
   

Tumitig ako sa mukha ni Katarina. She reminds me of a tulip that is still in its cocoon; one more rainy night, and she will bloom the next day. Young and vibrant. Her eyes were a mirage of emotions, they were compelling you to take care of her, save her.

She looks at me, and I had to suck in a breath when her innocence projected to me, and then the innocence was stripped from her like a tulip forcing to bloom from its cocoon.

Petals fall. Crisp. Dead.

"Would you like some tea, Mrs. Rozanov?" Her voice sang, ringing in my ears like a church choir.

"Yeah," I breathe.

Iniwas ko ang tingin sakanya at sumulyap kay Dashiel na tila may malalim na iniisip.

"I should go," anunsyo niya. Hindi naghintay nang permisyo at bumangon sa kinauupuan bago tinuon ang abong mga mata sa akin. "See you, Everiss."

"See you."

He regarded Katarina last before he pivoted towards a direction where he disappeared behind a bush, heartbeats later.

"Would you like a tour of the house, Mrs. Rozanov?" Katarina offered a gentle smile. "There are areas I wanted you to see! Oh, you'd love the greenhouse!"

"Sure." Only because she would cry again if I refused.

Nagustuhan ni Katarina ang sagot ko kaya matapos kong ubusin ang tsaa ay sinapuso niya muli ang pagmamaniubra sa akin sa wheelchair. Her enthusiasm was infectious. I found myself excited to see this greenhouse too, and the rest of this house.

Una niya akong dinala sa dining room kung saan nakalatag ang mahabang lamesa na may labing anim na upuan, tila nakasadya para sa mga makapangyarihan na Bratva. Three enormous chandeliers hovered above it, gold and gleaming. The dining room was open, with large pillars and archways from different hallways supporting it. It was like a rendezvous for the gods.

Sunod ay sa kitchen kung saan nakilala ko ang isa pang babae: Olga. Kasama siya ni Pushkin nang dalhan ako ng pagkain sa clinic.

She was about my Nana's age. Her body was lagging to the side and she walked with a visible limp. Her slightly grey hair was put in a low bun, and she smelled of cinnamon and freshly baked bread in the morning. My eyes prickled up as I remembered Nana. I missed her scent, her advice, her reprimanding and gentle smile, as well as Uncle Pitt.

Olga was assigned to the pastry goods. Pinasilip niya sa akin ang sarili niyang kusina kung saan puno ng mga crate at sako ng mga harina at asukal. Ang mga naglalakihang oven ay nakakagawa ng libo-libong tinapay. At binanggit niya na lagi siyang abala dito.

How many people consume her pastries?

And Pushkin. He has four male assistant chefs in the kitchen.

Ilang tao ba ang pinapakain nila? I was sure as hell Kazmus didn't eat like a glutton.

Katarina showed me rooms I might have considered for lounging if I have the time (her words not mine). Lahat magaganda, ginto at pinag-isipang disenyuhan.

"We're here!" Katarina bounced on her shoes, a huge smile on her face as she pushed me towards an open glass door.

Fields of green beds stretched in my vision. They danced in waves, following the sequence of winds and rustling gently almost like a lullaby. Tinulak ako ni Katarina sa aisle. Ang mga mata ko ay nanlalaki sa bawat talahib na madaanan.

"These are..."

Katarina nodded, her head held high. "We keep the Rozanov business."

Oh, God! These are cannabis plants! Rows and rows of them!