A CEO's Child

Building Status

Anissa and Jack cleaned up in a cruddy motel, grabbed a few hours of sleep, and bought some cloths and supplies from the local Walmart. Neither slept well, nervous for the next day and their assignment briefing. 

The building was discrete. It was a plain brown fabricator building, likely for industrial work. The office had dirty carpet, but reek of incense. Everything in it was organized beyond means, to a point the desks looked waxed. The computers were old and bulky, but something screamed it was a disguise. 

The man waiting for them was familiar, and perhaps the last person she'd expect to see on the face of the Earth, especially after everything that had happened. Cold, calculated green eyes, a tight square jaw. Beefy biceps, and a stout but tall frame, eased out in one of the chairs before them. Braxis. 

Jack stiffened beside her, but recovered quickly. "Uh...hello. Good morning."

"I have to say, I'm surprised of your quick acceptance the both of you. Quick turn arounds in paperwork and you two were jumping job assignments like rats off a sinking ship." 

Anissa crossed her arms. Her cheap business cloths suddenly felt frumply and itchy, and she felt lesser than she had ever been before. She'd fled her destroyed him, leaving her husband and sick or dying child in the wake. It was an effort to keep her voice steady. An effort not to break down into tears. 

 "Are you the commanding officer?" she asked. She felt Jack shift slightly, moving in almost half a step closer--as if he was the physical embodiment of strength and she could syphon some off him.

"No, but you will be taking orders from me. First things first, you will be undergoing training for new weapons and lessons to help intercept some Russian information." 

"So what exactly are we facing? What does this job all entail?"

Braxis stood, and waved a hand. Anissa honestly was so grief riddled she didn't much care her practical mortal enemy was now almost her boss. She didn't care about what she had to learn or where she would be stationed or how long she would be gone. She wanted to sleep. She wanted to curl up and hide from the world for a long while. 

"Follow me to the meeting rooms, I have papers to show you." 

******

Venyamin's had slid out of bed as blood chilled from hearing his brother's matured voice--so vile and full of ice, sleekly wrapped up with a cunning, soft undertone. He hadn't seen any of them in years, probably five or six. It was certainly before he'd met Anissa or landed his job. 

Anissa. She'd left him. He deserved it, after drinking to near comatose while pregnant, but still she'd left him. His child was fine, and she was far, far away, ignoring him and probably hoping he died too. Still he wanted to tell her. Tell her he'd fixed his problems, and beg her to talk to him, so he could show her everything was going to be fine. 

"I'm waiting...." Helsing purred, his adult voice more rich than Veyamin's, as Viorica turned the phone on speaker. "How's life big brother?"

"I'm good, and yourself?" Despite just waking up, despite being knocked up with a potentially sick baby, he found himself easing into his business grace. He slid his hands into his pockets, and his pelvis jutted forward. He wore no shirt, and the bitter air bit into his torso. 

His mind was reeling though. He didn't know how long he'd been out. He didn't know where Marty was, or what Marylin thought or anything. All he knew was he must have been at his sister's estate, it was snowing like a fiend, and his stomach ached from all the treatments. 

"I'm having a breakfast tomorrow. You should join, and you too VeeVee...mother will be even attending. Time to get our whole family together."

"Of course, it would be my pleasure." The words were easy but he knew the task would not be. If Viorica so easily figured out his pregnancy he wondered what other dirt his family knew. He didn't know where Risona sat either, and what exactly was going on with his sick mother. 

"Ten sharp, dearest brother. VeeVee will know where." The phone clicked, and Viorica had the sense to take a deep breath as she sat down on one of the grey armchairs.

"Fuuuck." She said. "I have no idea how he knows..."

Venyamin paced. "I don't know the layout of anything, this isn't bad in my eyes. It's just breakfast."

"With plenty of food to poison and drinks to sour." 

"So you want to rule with your betrothed? And he wants it, yes? But I'm the eldest and should have it. And we don't even know what Risona is thinking or what fence she perches upon."

"In essence...." 

"And there is our dear-old cutthroat mother to consider...dying but dangerous." 

"And your baby."

Venymain gave a rueful smile, patting the side of his stomach. "Send me a tailor, I will need a suit quickly. I need it with defense too." 

"Relax for awhile first. I'll send for one to be here by noon. Get some food, and talk with that little feisty doctor. He's like a little ankle-biter. Small but not to be trusty with obtainable weakspots."

"He's no harm...I need a burner phone too."

"Alright...." Viorica didn't rise, she just looked out the windo and to the balcony. To the empty trees and coated ground. 

Venyamin made a point to take a sit near his sister, but he didn't bother assuring her it would be okay or he would help her. He no longer had an obligation to her as she'd nearly killed his child. He didn't have an obligation to any of them, the more he thought about it. He'd left for a reason. Who killed who was up to them, and he wanted no part. He'd taken enough lives already as a solider and as a family member of their mafia. 

Viorica sighed again, "he's smart and has sources."

"You're betrothed with another gang."

"Whatever happened to blood is thicker than Vodka?" 

"I don't know Vee, I don't know."