LV1. Wolf's Wife

14. Alexandra - New York, New York

I was alone in the world. Loosing Polina was something we were prepared for years. Loosing my mother was nothing I could be prepared for. If Romero and Oksana weren't there for me, I didn't know how I would have even got out of bed.

Romero got some disturbing phone calls from what I understood his estranged sister, so we stopped in New York on our way back to Vegas. It turned out that detour was what I needed to breathe again. Being occupied with other people's drama helped me to snap out of my own misery.

Giulietta was Romero's twin and they looked fairly similar. I didn't have the opportunity to know her better, since most of the time we spent in her shoebox of apartment, she and Romero argued.

What I understood was that she also didn't know about their real father until Romero found their birth certificates. She was angry with Mr. Lopez and had no intention to even meet him. She also didn't want any of his money.

Their argument ended when a man named Liam barged into the small apartment and made the crowded space even smaller. They almost went to fisticuffs, but then somehow both calmed down. Within few minutes, we were all invited to some kind of a restaurant, while Giulietta was sulking in the background with her arms crossed.

So, we first went to a nearby hotel, where Romero secured a room with two separate bedrooms. We both promptly landed face down on our beds and woke up only when it was totally dark outside. My inner clock was struggling to keep up with times zones, but we still had half an hour to get ready before the dinner.

Oksana turned out to be fantastic aunt in more than one regard. I was bit sad that we didn't have more time to get to know each other, but she helped me so much with all the organizing. When she arrived, she brought with her two suitcases full of new clothes for me, all of them in black. I didn't have too much black clothes, and I was more than grateful for her thoughtfulness.

I didn't have to think about what to put on, I just chose the next little black dress in the suitcase and that was it.

This restaurant that Liam guy invited us to as he said to meet on neutral grounds, was another shock to my system in the long line of shocks since we landed in Chicago. When we agreed to come here, I envisioned a small, cozy place, preferably something Italian. This was in an all-glass building, where the elevators had glass walls, too. There was a huge atrium in the middle of the building and everything was intimidatingly posh.

I really should have got used to amazing food by now, but I was surprised again and again. Those other three were arguing all evening, but I simply didn't have the capacity to follow it. I zoned out and enjoyed the food, that was place before me in a constant carousel.

On the way back to Giulietta's flat in Liam's car the argument went on and at some point, Romero and I got out of the car. It was at our hotel, but I wasn't sleepy at all and didn't want to go in yet.

Before reaching the entrance, I turned to Romero speaking for the first time to him this evening.

"I don't think I can sleep yet." I told him, not really looking into his eyes. I wasn't sure what exactly I wanted, but it was not staring at the ceiling. This neighborhood wasn't the most welcoming with its not well-maintained buildings, but there were pubs lining the street and people milling around. Romero just raised his eyebrow and waited to me to continue. I swallowed my nerves.

"I want to forget." I rushed the words before I could reconsider. "Do you think we can find a bar and have a few drinks?"

"If that is what you want." Romero just shrugged. I saw that he was occupied with his own thoughts which I was sure was about his sister.

"Do you think I shouldn't do something like that so soon after..." My voice faltered a bit. "So soon after the funeral." I managed to say, though the noose around my throat tightened.

"I don't think there is a guidebook for mourning." His smile was so sad that I had to get closer to him. I entwined my arm with his and pulled him toward the street.

"Let's drink something foul tasting and forget everything for an evening." I singsonged with more brightness that I felt.

That was how we found ourselves in a dingy little bar, which was full of people I wouldn't consider associating with. We found two stools by the bar and Romero paid for a bottle of vodka. He made sure that the foil was intact before he opened the bottle. He was always like this caring around me and I couldn't help but admire him for it.

"Hello stranger." He smiled at me after the second shot. This time his smile was mischievous. I had a feeling that it was his natural expression, not the stressed or sad one. "What brought you to this fine establishment?"

"I..." Before I could say anything he playfully touched his forefinger to my mouth to silence me. It took me everything not to lick his finger.

"Let me guess!" He took back his tantalizing finger and grabbed his drink. "Let's see. You are a long-lost princess from some long forgotten Eastern-European country. Am I right?"

"Not even close." I shook my head, my hair flying around my face. I felt lighter than ever.

"Hm. British accent. Adorable, but it doesn't help." He mused and drank again. As he put down his empty glass with a thud, he squinted at me. "Oh, I know, I know! You are a Russian mafia princess. Your father is the most powerful mafia leader, and you are running away from him."

"I'm afraid it is far too close to the truth to my liking." I murmured and leaned to his ear. "Now my bodyguards will have to kill you to keep my identity secret."

He chuckled and his delicious pinewood scent wrapped around my senses. The urge to lick his neck between his shirt collar and his hair became almost unbearable, so I pulled back to a safer distance. I never had these thoughts regarding men.

"Not unless, I'm a rival mafia prince and I'll save you by marring you." He murmured into his glass.

"Italian mafia? That must be dangerous."

"It is. But more like Mexican. Well. Half Italian from my mother's side." His tone turned serious. We were not really good at this flirting thing. Or more likely I was terrible at it. The only thing I could think about was to drink a few more shots. The bottle emptied too fast and even sitting on a barstool felt a big wobbly.

"I think we should go." We said it almost simultaneously. He guided me out of the bar, and we turned to walk back to our hotel. I was a bit unsteady, so I entwined my arm with is again, but this time more for balance than anything else. The warm summer air was stifling and not very pleasant. It didn't help with my predicament.

When we passed an alleyway, something switched in my drunken brain and pulled him with me into the darkness.

"Kiss me. Please kiss me!" I pressed myself into him without a second thought.

"Alexandra!" He held me at arm's length with his palms on my cheeks. "I'm trying my hardest to remain a gentleman."

"Then don't be. Please. I need it." I struggled to get closer and with a huge sigh he pulled me into his hard body.

I wanted mind-blowing passion to erase all thoughts, but instead I got a slow, careful exploration lips. He was still cradling my face as he tasted me like I was some kind of the most precious, rare fruits. He tasted of the vodka we drank, but there was something more, sweeter, and much better. I wanted to get lost in these sensations but then I felt something frighteningly strange, a prick at my neck. It hurt and a cold sensation spread rapidly from my head towards my limbs. I opened my eyes in alarm as I was pulled back from the embrace of Romero. Someone was holding something to his neck.

"What the fuck?" I heard him rasp it out before everything went black.