Page 3 of Betrothed
Four years later
The scattered silence was deafening.
Yet I could almost feel the weight of spirits guiding the way, the church almost lit entirely by candlelight providing a mystical, otherworldly atmosphere.
While primarily family, there were a few members sitting silently in the pews, those deemed important enough to take a place near the King of Vipers. At least that’s the way I’d come to think of my best friend and Pakhan, Kazimir Chertov. While he was often called D’yavol by his enemies, in my mind he was far too charismatic to be the devil.
Although there’d been times as of late I might disagree. Working within certain provincial limitations had presented demanding, even dangerous issues we weren’t accustomed to handling. Not that any level of violence bothered me, but in a world wheremistakes or weaknesses meant defeat, every decision made required clear and precise calculation.
As I walked toward the front of the church, I was struck by the beauty of the facility. Men with violent professions weren’t frequent visitors to places of worship, thought to be far too evil for salvation. My gaze swept the surroundings, not only in my position as commander of the Chertov soldiers but also allowing a moment to bask in the majesty of design and architecture.
On the outside, multiple onion-shaped domes representing the saints glittered against the skyline while inside, the artistry was a magnificent display of true Eastern Orthodox beliefs.
There were treasured icons everywhere, even those separating the altar from the nave.
Even in an empire where violence and bloodshed were merely instruments of commerce, wealth, and power, the church embodied every spiritual tradition.
I walked closer to where Kazimir stood in a classic dark suit, his face beaming with the reverie of the moment. His half-brother Stash stood by his side, his face grim in comparison. The younger Chertov had yet to earn his full place within the regime.
Kazimir had his hand on a little boy’s shoulder, his son Sasha appearing wide-eyed but very much a young version of the Pakhan.
As I approached, I felt a weight on my shoulders, not from the necessity of keeping the family safe, but of the honor bestowed on me by Kazimir.
What the hell did I know about being a godfather to a baby? Jesus Christ, I was sweating like a pig, the collar of my shirt chafing my damp skin.
However, even the mere thought of denying Rafaela and Kazimir was akin to the worst betrayal. A deep, ragged exhale heaving my chest, when I was finally in place, the priest moved slowly toward the chalice-shaped vessel, which was already full of holy water. He nodded to one of his deacons, who opened a door on the side, allowing for Rafaela and Artemus to enter. Seeing Golden Angel, the family Golden Retriever, flanking her side, I was struck by how traditional both the moment and the event truly were.
There was a place for men in our dangerous, violent world to fall in love and nurture a family, including man’s best friend. The pup was with them every hour of every day.
Although a relationship created in love wasn’t advisable, women considered the ultimate weakness for a man, used by enemies as a tool for bartering. Usually without a positive outcome.
The practice wasn’t advisable for other reasons as well, including the life expectancy of those within a crime syndicate. Plus, women were far more intelligent than men, easily capable of seduction for information or assassination.
That was a subject not to be discussed today. This was a celebration of family and life.
My shirt collar was still too tight.
I folded my hands together as Kazimir’s wife approached, her serene face glowing in the flickering candlelight. She only had eyes for the man she so adored, the electricity flowing between them enviable.
Even a confirmed bachelor such as myself would be lying if I said I didn’t long to have a woman look at me with such clear adoration in her eyes.
And Kazimir? He’d lost his mind over her one hot summer’s night in Italy.
As the priest began the ceremony, I took the opportunity to quietly scan the church. There were soldiers posted outside, a few others inside the church as well, although they’d been kept to a minimum at Rafaela’s request.
Even though she was well aware of how Kazimir handled business as Pakhan and even after being betrayed by her own father and godfather, she believed in the symbolism of the Divine Womb. As well as ensuring there would be someone to care for her growing family should anything happen to either her or Kazimir.
Morbid but also necessary. So here I was, ready to accept the duties.
As the family gathered around, including their closest friends, I felt a sense of pride as well. After everything the two of them had gone through, the peaceful moment was everything they needed.
However, as I was still on duty, I continually scanned the perimeter, including the balcony, which held one too many shadows. With at least a dozen entrances into the massive church and surrounding buildings, unless I’d positioned a full army outside, there’d been no perfect methods of protection.
Fortunately, the invitations had been done privately, very few given access to the celebration.
We were locked down tight inside, an armored SUV waiting to return the family home. Still, I wasn’t comfortable being in the open. There’d been two attempts made to end Kazimir’s life in the previous months, likely from disgruntled Russians in other Bratva.
At least according to Kazimir.
