𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐞 || A Mafia Love Story

xxviii

June arrived with a swiftness that caught Marlee off guard. The weeks had slipped by as she spent her days helping Mr. Clark at his farm and enjoying the company of Roman and his cousins. Yet, despite these pleasant distractions, Viktor remained conspicuously absent. Roman's frequent visits became a comforting presence, and even Marlee's mother, initially cautious, found herself warming to the young boy. Her grandfather, too, seemed to take a liking to Roman, whose laughter and easy charm gradually won over the whole household.

The evenings spent playing board games with Roman, her mother, and Soren became a small solace for Marlee. However, an unbidden melancholy began to seep into her heart. It was a quiet, persistent ache that gnawed at her insides and dulled her once bright demeanor. Roman, perceptive to Marlee's gradual change, decided it was time to act.

One night, after their weekly board game session, Roman returned home to find his cousins in a state of fervent excitement. The living room was alive with the clash of voices as they yelled at the TV, their faces lit by the flickering images of a soccer game from their home country. The sight of his cousins, particularly Nikolai and Arty, ranting in animated Russian, made Roman chuckle. Polina was sprawled on the loveseat, absorbed in her phone, while Maxim sat quietly next to her, seemingly unperturbed by the commotion.

Roman strode into the room and, with a mischievous glint in his eye, stood directly in front of the TV. Arty leaped up, his face flushed with irritation, and began hurling curses at him. With a swift motion, Roman turned off the TV, drawing a collective gasp from the room.

"I have an idea," Roman announced, his face alight with a blend of triumph and excitement. Arty, still bristling, attempted to protest, but Roman held him back with a firm but playful shove.

"Wait! Listen, okay?" Roman continued, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. He took a deep breath, savoring the moment of dramatic pause before unveiling his plan.

"What if..." he said, drawing out his words for effect.

Polina looked up from her phone, her gaze betraying a mixture of amusement and impatience.

"We throw a surprise party for Marlee!" Roman declared, his voice bursting with enthusiasm. "And we can celebrate Viktor's birthday too—his is in two weeks!"

Arty, momentarily forgetting his previous annoyance, leaped from the couch with an exuberant grin, eager to dive into the planning despite the late hour. Polina, her eyes lighting up with approval, knew that Marlee would be overjoyed by the gesture. She was already envisioning the ways she would contribute to the planning.

The following day, the group set to work. Polina called around town, searching for a bakery that could create the perfect cake, while she scoured local stores for decorations. The town's limited selection posed a challenge, but Polina was determined.

Viktor, who had been away visiting associates in Los Angeles, was due to return any day. Roman had shared his plan with Viktor, knowing full well that the older man's grumpy disposition likely meant he wouldn't relish the idea of a joint celebration. Viktor was known for his aversion to birthdays, viewing them as mere reminders of life's inevitable march toward death. Yet, Roman was hopeful that despite Viktor's grumblings, he might find some joy in celebrating with Marlee, even if he wouldn't admit it.

When Viktor finally returned home, he was met with a surprise: his house was festooned with unopened decorations, most of them in a conspicuous shade of pink. The sight was jarring against the backdrop of his usual, understated home. He found Roman seated with his cousins, whom he had not yet had the chance to properly greet.

Dragging his suitcase up the stairs, Viktor's fatigue was palpable. The hours of driving had left him weary, and he was looking forward to a much-needed nap. Roman, brimming with excitement, followed him, chattering animatedly about the party plans. Viktor, though appreciative of his brother's efforts, felt a twinge of annoyance at the interruption.

"I'll come downstairs after I take a nap, Roman," Viktor said, his tone resolute but not unkind. Roman's smile widened, undeterred by Viktor's bluntness.

"Okay!" Roman exclaimed, bounding back down the stairs to rejoin his cousins.

As Viktor settled into his bed, he allowed himself a rare moment of rest. Caring for Roman had been his constant, a heavy mantle he had worn since childhood. Their father had been a harsh and unkind man, leaving Viktor and Roman to fend for themselves in a home fraught with conflict.

Their mother, though once a source of affection, had become a shadow of her former self, overwhelmed by her own struggles with alcohol. Viktor remembered her in moments of drunken despair, her head resting in his lap as she recounted the cruelties she had suffered. The weight of her pain, and the burden of raising Roman, had hardened him.

Despite the deep scars left by their troubled past, Viktor's love for his brother remained a guiding force, driving him to do everything in his power to protect and provide for him.