Cut Too Deep (34 page)

“You can crash here,” Mac offered.

“Thanks, but I need clothes for work and all of my girly things.”

“I might have a few girly things you can barrow.” Hadley’s mind ran wild with visions of Mac in makeup and ruffled blouses. “Gotcha…” He grinned.

Mac’s door opened. Miller watched the screen as Hadley and Mac stepped out of the apartment. He fumed when Mac tenderly held Hadley’s face in his hands before kissing her forehead. Mac entered his apartment and closed the door, leaving Hadley in the hall. She walked toward the elevators.

“What the fuck are you letting her leave alone for?” Miller yelled at the monitor while clutching both sides of the frame in his hands. “Goddamn it, Love. Where are you going?”

Miller dialed Armonno’s cell phone.

“Yeah, I got her, boss. We’re driving to the front now.”

“Follow her. Do not let her out of your sight.”

Miller remained on the line and looked at the monitor showing the front of Mac’s building as Hadley exited.

“She’s out front. Where the fuck are you guys?”

“Eh…we got a little traffic here on McDougal.”

Miller’s eyes flashed back to the screen. A large white SUV pulled up next to Hadley and a man got out. Miller leaned over his desk to get closer to the screen. He pressed a button on the key board that sent the image to full screen.

“Fuck, get there, now, Armonno.”

“Antonio’s on foot. He’s almost to Bleecker Street.”

Fear wrapped around Hadley’s legs as the man in front of her came into view, the same man from the deli.

“Miss Walker, someone would like to speak with you.” His Russian accent was mild, but unmistakable. “Would you come with me please?”

There were plenty of people around if Hadley wanted to scream. She wasn’t going to let this man force her into the SUV. She felt brave enough to say, “No.”

“It’s your grandmother.”

“You tell Valentina Benvenuti that I have nothing to say to her!”

As soon as the words left her mouth, they didn’t make sense. Her grandmother did not associate with Russians.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know who Valentina is. I’m here for Sascha Mihaylov.”

Hadley knew the name, but was confused. “The ballerina?”

“You’re grandmother.”

“What?”

Hadley glanced around nervously. The famous ballerina was most definitely not her grandmother. He had to have the wrong girl.

The man saw the confusion on the young woman’s face.

“Miss Mihaylov is Vitale Rosanov’s mother, your grandmother. She would like to see you.”

Hadley struggled to understand why her legs carried her to the SUV, or why she climbed inside with a strange man that could be filling her head with a lie to kidnap her. Maybe she was distracted, still angry with Miller, curious, or just plain stupid, but she got inside the vehicle without hesitation.

She pulled the seatbelt across her chest and clicked it into place. Hadley looked at the hulk-sized human being next to her. Doubt finally hit her, only it was too late. She was trapped. As she felt her chest collapsing, the man spoke.

“Please, don’t be afraid. I mean you no harm.”

The giant had gentle eyes and a kind smile.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Your grandmother lives Uptown.”

Her eyes widened, and Hadley leaned forward.

“She lives in New York?”

“Yes.”

Anger bubbled up inside of her. Hadley was about to meet another person in her life that turned their back on her, even though they lived within driving distance. Her grandmother being one of them, shouldn’t come as a surprise. After all, the woman deserted her own son.

Hadley thought about her grandmother’s identity. Sascha Mihaylov was a world renowned ballerina. One didn’t study the art without knowing her name. It was interesting to learn where her love of ballet and talent came from, but Hadley was too furious with the woman to be excited. With the mood she was in today, she planned on letting her grandmother know how much she hated her.

“My name is Isaak.” Hadley stared at him impassively. “I’ve known your grandmother for a long time.”

“Nice that one of us does.” Hadley rolled her eyes and looked out the window.

“I also knew your father.”

That interested Hadley. Her father claimed not to know his mother. “And…” Hadley prompted.

“Things are not always as they seem, Miss.”

Hadley didn’t say anything else for the remainder of the drive. If anyone knew about disguises it was her. The man she loved proved how easily things weren’t what they seemed earlier today.

The SUV ducked into a parking structure on 145
th
Street and parked in a space designated for tenants. Hadley’s resentment grew by the minute. For years she struggled to get by, and her grandmother was living Uptown in a swank apartment.

After the grueling elevator ride up twenty-six floors, Hadley felt like throwing up.  Nerves and anger swam in her stomach. Her mind was full of cluttered hatred. She wanted to back out, go home, but she was also eager to learn why after twenty-six years, this woman wanted to see her.

Isaak opened a door and held it for Hadley. She walked into the apartment, her gaze immediately fixed on the pictures in the entryway. Photographs and magazine articles hung in frames on every wall, showcasing Sascha Mihaylov’s brilliant career. Her heart squeezed when she saw three photographs on a narrow side wall. Hadley recognized the photos of her father as a child. Her mother had shown them to her before.

“This way, Miss,” Isaak instructed, holding his hand out.

Hadley followed him, admiring a white baby grand piano as they moved past the living area. She’d always wanted to learn to play. They stepped outside onto the terrace. On a small table in the corner, sipping tea, was a slim elderly woman. Her hands shook as she lowered the tea cup to the saucer.

Isaak went to her and whispered before going inside. Hadley stood five feet from the table staring, unable to speak.

“Please, come here, darling.”

The endearing term blistered Hadley’s skin.

“No thanks. I’ll stand.”

“For heaven’s sake, sit down, child. I’m an old woman, and I can barely see you with the sun behind you. I don’t expect you to like me, but I’d like ten minutes of your time.”

The woman’s boldness surprised Hadley. She went and sat down at the table, leaving a chair between them. Her eyes focused on the blue veins and wrinkles on the woman’s hand when she reached for the kettle on the table.

“Tea?”

“No, I don’t want tea. I want to know why I’m here.”

The woman filled her cup. She then leaned back in her chair and pursed her lips. “I’m sorry if Isaak alarmed you. I’ve tried calling, but you never answer.”

Hadley felt a miniscule amount of relief to learn she was the caller that hadn’t left a voicemail.

“You should try leaving a message.”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t return my call if I did.” Sascha dropped a sugar cube into her tea and stirred before leaving the spoon to rest in the cup. She gazed warily at her granddaughter. “I didn’t know about you. If I had…”

Hadley cut her off. “If you had, what would you have done? Come for me? Right, when you obviously didn’t want your own son.”

Sascha leaned forward, narrowing her eyes.

“Young lady, I’ve done nothing to warrant your disrespect. You don’t know anything about my relationship with your grandfather or your father.”

“Tell me then!” Hadley glared at the woman, feeling brave. She was also still irate with Miller and Sascha got brunt of it. “Your ten minutes are almost up!”

Sascha ignored her granddaughter’s rudeness to explain.

“Your father’s father was abusive. He broke me down emotionally for years. When I got pregnant, I hoped it would change. I was going to give the baby up so I could pursue dance, but your grandfather wanted the baby so badly. After I delivered, things were better, but short lived. He grew increasingly violent and I left him. When I tried to get custody of your father, he threatened me, and I’d been beaten down for so long that I was terrified. I let him keep the baby, though it nearly killed me.”

Hadley felt bad for her, but was too angry to say anything.

“I left for Russia to pursue my dream. I was weak minded, young, and I should have fought harder, but I didn’t. Occasionally he would sober up long enough to send a picture or a letter. When I returned to New York with the ballet for a reunion tour, I reached out to your father. He was sixteen and wanted nothing to do with me. I wasn’t surprised. I knew his father filled him with lies about me. I was with the ballet for two years before I returned to Russia, and he never budged. Four years ago, I was offered a position on the board at the ballet. The first thing I did when I got here was try to look up my son. I was older, stronger, and determined that he know the truth. I thought he would be married with a family, children of his own, and possibly willing to listen to me. Instead, I discovered he had passed and that I had a living granddaughter. It took some digging to find you, but I did.”

“That was four years ago!”

“Yes. I was afraid you would reject me. I had Isaak tail you, learned you were a dancer. I used my influence at the ballet to get you an apprenticeship, hoping I’d be able to get to know you before I shared who I was.”

“You made the recommendation?”

It had never been disclosed to Hadley who the recommendation came from. Hadley had considered looking into it, but when she was forced to decline the offer, she no longer cared.

“I did, and I was shocked when you turned it down.”

“I didn’t have a choice. When you’re orphaned at eight and commit murder, they tend to strip you of your choices. An apprenticeship didn’t begin to cover my student loans, let alone a place to live.”

“I’m sorry for what you’ve been through.”

“You’re sorry? I…I…I don’t begin to know where to start with you, lady.” Hadley felt surprising bold. “My life…”

“I hoped he wouldn’t turn out like his father,” Sascha interrupted. “I regret not being stronger and taking him away from that man. I have no excuses, but when you suffer enough abuse, sometimes running from the truth is easier than fighting it.”

Running from a painful existence, Hadley understood all too well. She looked at her knotted hands trembling in her lap.

“I don’t know what you want.”

The old woman smiled at her fragile granddaughter, almost as if looking at a reflection of her younger self.

“I understand this is a lot to take in. I brought you here today because I’d like to know my granddaughter. I’d also like to ask you if you would consider auditioning for a permanent position at the ballet. A spot is available and I submitted my recommendation.”

Hadley blinked rapidly. “I’m hardly studied enough for that.”

“I disagree. I was present when you auditioned for the apprenticeship. You remind me a great deal of myself, and you have a little over a month to prepare.”

Hadley felt the weight of the day crushing her. Her mind couldn’t process all of the revelations. An anxiety attack was certain if she didn’t get out of there. She had a bottle of pills at home from Dr. LeClair. She rarely took them, but wished she had them with her now.

“I need to go.” Hadley jumped to her feet. “I’m sorry. This is too much.”

“Isaak can drive you. I understand your reservations, but please give my offer some thought. A talent such as yours should not be wasted, and an opportunity like this is rare.”

Hadley didn’t respond. She turned and sprinted for the front door.

“Would you like me to drive you back to your friend's?” Isaak asked.

“No. Take me home please.”

M
iller remembered the night nearly twenty years ago as though it were yesterday.

Giovanni had been staying with his aunt and uncle, because his parents had a function to attend. He fell asleep on their sofa. His Aunt Julianna covered him with a blanket. He awoke to his Uncle Vito shuffling around the room.

“Where are you going?” Giovanni asked groggily, sitting up on the sofa and rubbing his eyes.

“I’ve gotta talk to a guy. You go back to sleep.”

Giovanni knew who his uncle was and what he meant by talking to a guy. He wanted to be involved. Being a Lorino came with a lot of power and going on a job was a rite of passage Giovanni thought he was ready for.

“Can I go with you?”

Vito tilted his head and stared at his nephew. His Godson was thirteen now. When he was thirteen his father took him on jobs significantly more involved than this one. He was only going to talk to the guy, scare him a little, no big deal. The time had come for his nephew to be introduced to the family business, despite what the kid’s parents thought. As the kid’s Godfather, he should be the one to show him what it meant to be a Lorino.

“Sure, kid. Get your shoes on.”

Giovanni jumped off the couch and fetched his shoes from under the coffee table. He could hardly contain his excitement. He felt like a man.

Snow flurries shimmered in the night sky, twinkling in the moon’s reflection like glitter. The heater in Vito’s Lincoln Continental blasted Giovanni’s face. A cigarette hung leisurely from his uncle’s lips, filling the car with smoke. Adrenaline coursed through Giovanni’s veins. He wiped tiny beads of sweat from his forehead and reached out to turn down the heat. His introduction into Lorino manhood had taken years. He couldn’t wait to show his uncle how tough he was, that he could do this easily.