BLIND OBSESSION

STELLA

I am not a greedy person, I am not selfish, I am not a bad person. Right?

I am.

That's probably why I don't have a mom.

That's probably why she abandoned me.

I don't have an abandonment issue.

I just think she could've at least left a note. Or anything at all,

But she didn't. I don't blame her though. If I got pregnant for the leader of the New York mafia, I'd probably run for my life. With my baby, though. *sighs*

Right now I am at a party, gathering or whatever you call these things people in the mafia do when they come together. It's definitely business, and it has to be important since Papa insisted the whole family should be present. The whole family, including him, me and his brother, uncle Dan.

Personally, I wouldn't have bothered coming, but Marina, our housekeeper, chef, and cleaner, pleaded with me not to be a brat. Am not a brat.

But I am not here to prove that point.

I am here because Marina is the closest I have to a mother, and I don't like the look she had on her face when she was asking me to come. Marina is what people call petite, with jet black hair and Hazel eyes.

The worry lines on her face were doing weird shit to me so I had to make sure they went away. Permanently.

But I have the feeling that we're not here for casual business, call it a hunch, I just feel a little on the edge.

But hey, it couldn't be worse than living without the woman who gave birth to me my whole life. Right?.

Also, having to come doesn't mean I necessarily have to doll myself up or hang on Papa's shoulders for the whole evening–although that's what he would want. In Fact, I have done the exact opposite.

I wore a long, black dress that bares my back and exposes only a little cleavage. I didn't put on much make-up because-duh- am a natural. I only put on lip gloss, eyeliner and mascara. I left my hair untouched, letting it cascade freely down my back.

I probably got my chestnut brown hair from mom– probably– papa's hair is charcoal black so it's definitely not from him. Our only common feature is our eye colour. Emerald green.

I won't be hanging around Papa tonight; he came to do business, and I came for the sake of coming. And for Marina's sake.

I head to the bar to get a drink because why not?. I turned 18 a week ago, so I have every right to drink whatever I want. And it's no one's business.

“ I'll have an espresso martini”. I say to the bartender and dart my eyes around to take a proper fill of the place, take a mental note of the people present and the different openings that lead outside. That is what I've been taught to do at every gathering because you never know when there is a shootout and you have to run.

I spot a familiar figure walking in through the main entrance. Viktor?. What could he be doing here?

We attend the same school, and we have some classes together. He's only ever seen with Landon and is always very quiet. He has this dangerous vibe that nobody dares to get in the middle of, except Landon who is the chatty one.

Viktor has a way that he looks at people with those royal blue eyes that gets the person flustered. He has a lean physique, broad shoulders, high cheekbones and a chiselled jaw that could land him on the cover of a magazine. He's just too cold though.

I've never pictured him as someone who would be involved with the mafia. He walks with such confidence that makes people stop and stare.

The bartender hands me my drink and I gulp it in one go.

Turning around to continue my silent ogling session, I see that Viktor has stepped into a booth and is conversing with a man a little shorter than him. Is that Uncle Dan?. What business could they have together?.

I didn't even know Viktor was connected to the mafia, and now I see him talking to my uncle?. Okay…..

Viktor turns around, probably looking for someone, and his eyes meet mine. I expect him to look away and continue whatever he's doing, but he just stands there looking at me with those blue eyes. I must say, being subject to his glares is quite unnerving. Why is he looking at me like I killed his puppy?. Weird.

My phone vibrates in my bag, startling me and forcing me to tear my eyes away from his. I retrieve my phone and find a message from Papa.

Papa: Where are you?.

Me: Near the bar.

Papa: Get in the car and head home, we'll meet you there.

Me: Okay….

Papa: And Stella?

Me: Yh??

Papa: We have a guest. Behave.

Me: Noted

A guest?. Papa never has to inform me that we have guests. Also, when am I not in my best behaviour?.

I put the phone in my bag and looked up to see if Viktor was still there. Nope, he's gone. It's not like I expected him to wait so we could continue our war of gazes. The drive back takes thirty minutes and I spend it thinking about the way Viktor was looking at me and who the guest could be.

———

The car drives into the compound and stops in front of the main building. I get out of the car and head inside.

Immediately, I walk in, the scent of something cooking assaults my nose, and I walk straight to the kitchen. I find Marina cooking different varieties of dishes, including some unfamiliar ones.

“Holy cow, are we having a feast?” I ask, startling Marina.

“Stellochka, you startled me”. She says upon turning around. Stellochka is the Russian nickname she calls me because she was born and brought up there, but lost her family in an accident and relocated to New York for a fresh start, and has since been working for us.

“Sorry.., so..are we having a feast or something?” I repeat.

“No, your papa said we're having guests over and I should prepare the best Russian meals, he didn't tell you? “

“He did, but he didn't mention that they were Russians “

“Well, now you know, go upstairs and freshen up, I have picked out a dress for you as per your father's orders, so off you go”.

I turn around and head to my room. Why would Papa have to specifically have Marina pick a dress for me?. The guests must be very special. Could it be the leader of the Russian bratva, or his son? I've heard a lot about them but I haven't seen them. I've only been to gatherings hosted by the Pakhan but didn't end up seeing him or his son.

On walking into my room I spot a red dress on my bed. This looks nothing like a dress worn to dinner, it's more like a ball dress, and I am sure I didn't have this before, meaning that it was bought today. These guests must be extremely important.

After freshening up and putting on the dress, I look at myself in the mirror. The dress is beautiful, but it would be more beautiful if someone else were wearing it.

I walk downstairs, being careful not to trip on the dress and disgrace Papa. Walking into the dining hall, I realise that everyone is seated and is probably waiting for me. How long did I spend up there?.

Papa is seated at the head of the long dining table, Uncle Dan is seated at his right hand, and the chair at his left is vacant. Probably mine. A tall guy that could be a few years older than me is seated next to Uncle Dan, and the person sitting across from him is…Viktor??

Is he the house guest? Could that be why he was at the gathering earlier? What is he even doing here?.

Only one way to find out.