A CEO's Child

A Note

Venyamin watched as his crying wife shook her head one last time, the sweeping motion like a cleaver to his heart, and then she walked from the room. What had he done. 

Marty slammed his fist immediately into his jaw sending him toppling back, shockwaves from the hangover worsening it. He couldn't breath. He couldn't think. His daughter. She wasn't going to be okay. Heart conditions and potential cognitive issues. He was done for and his entire family was ruined. 

He succumbed to the darkness, to upset with himself to face his problems. Everything was his fault. He did know, that when he woke, his sister was going to die, lift debts or not. 

                                                                    *****

There was a prick in his arm as he slumbered, while the hangover continued waging war on his unconscious body. He could sense the day changing back to night around him, but never felt another presence. 

When he woke, his headache had faded to a dull throbbing, there was an IV drip in his arm. The windows had a pale glow to them indicating dusk, but he was alone. Or thought he was until he caught sight of his sister, legs crossed sitting in a chair she must have pulled from the kitchen. 

He sat up, and she instantly rose to her feet, raising her hands. "Wife is gone."

"You are about to fucking die," he roared, yanking the IV from his arm, and springing to his feet. 

"Ven wait!" she demanded. "I'm sorry, hear me out!"

It was too late. He stumbled to his feet, uneasy with his headache, shaking limbs, and swollen stomach, but he managed to grab hold of her and slam her straight into the wall. 

"You've ruined my life! You hurt my daughter! I will kill you for what you've done! You never could stop pushing for a good time, Viorica!"

"Stop!" she pleaded, as his hands found her throat. He shook her as he choked her. Her face turning red. Then suddenly she slammed her knee into the inside of his thigh, slammed upward on his elbows, and jerked free. She sent him flying to the ground a second later by hooking a sharp kick on the back of his knee. 

"Listen!" she choked, her voice scarce. 

Venyamin could only glare upward at her in hatred, thankful he'd landed on his hands and knees. He'd lost some of his combat skills, when he domesticated and married Anissa, and he'd lost a lot more just recently when his belly began to swell.  

"Venyamin," she murmured, squatting beside him. "I'm sorry."

"I don't care," he snarled. "Get fucking lost. Get out of my house and get the hell away from me."

"I can fix this." 

"No you absolutely can't. You've ruined my daughter."

"You ruined her yourself."

He lunged, pinning her beneath him. "You forced me to a old time duel, you stupid..."

She had him thrown off her in seconds flat. She'd arched a open hand to the underside of his jaw, and twisted her hips, sending him careening to the right and landing on his back. 

"I can fix this!" Viorica pleaded. "Listen to me!"

"You better talk fast," he snarled, "because I'm going to keep trying to fucking kill you until you actually die."

"Ven! We have medicine back home that can save her!"

He laughed, pulling himself to his feet to lunge again. "Right. And pigs can fly."

"I'm serious! Ven, I...I...Ven...I did this let me fix it." She backed up, making it harder for him to figure out an attack. She was faster, smarter, and more agile. The destroyed house proved that too. 

"Your life debts are over, I've done the unthinkable, just let me fix this! I swear on my life and your daughters I can fix this!"

"Do you even know what you've done to her!"

"Heart her heart and maybe mind, I let you drink to much. I forced you to drink to much, I should never have..."

"Damn right, you fucking, blundering idiot!" he lunged again, and she side stepped sending him sailing onto the bed. 

"And I've ruined your relationship with your wife. She left! She actually left! I know that look, the look of a broken woman. You have to let me fix this!"

He laid still for a second, panting and glaring at the ceiling and registering her words. "What do you mean she left?"

"She packed a bag. Left a note on the fridge. Left with Jack. I don't read English well but it didn't sound good." 

His heart thundered in his chest, and he stared at his sister. "What?" He was on his feet in a second, tearing across the destroyed penthouse to the kitchen. He snatched up the note, turning it over in his hands. 

Ven. I don't think we can fix this. I've got a job to do, and a mission to solve. When I come back we need to talk. I think it'd be best to consider parting ways. I feel I don't even know you anymore. 

                       I'll be back soon,                  Ani.

A male voice called to him, Marty. "Venyamin, you finally have woken up. We need to talk about what you are going to do with your daughter. I've also taken up the honors of not yet telling Marylin what you've done. 

He turned to see the small man fidgeting with his hands. For once in his life he didn't look angry, just sad. 

"What do you mean?"

"I will run a few more tests, but I don't think you're quiet pregnant with a baby anymore. She's likely going to die after birth and if she doesn't she's going to lead a miserable life. Both mentally and physically. And maybe addiction too."

Venyamin's heart dropped, at hearing the news again, this time consciously. He glanced back to the note, and his throat constricted.

"I've really fucked up, haven't I?" he choked, tears welling down his face. 

Marty nodded, "you have Venyamin, and I suggested abortion. I think you're wife ran because she knew it was coming and didn't want to see her daughter go." 

Venyamin shook his head, as if it would shake his problems away. "I won't get rid of her."

"I don't think you understand what the consequences of keeping her will be. You nearly died yourself. What do you think that did to a fetus? Having an alcohol concentration in your blood stream that high? Not good things, Ven, not good things." 

He looked back at the note. I feel I don't know you anymore. Hell. He didn't know himself. He shut his eyes, pulling his hands to his chest to hug himself. He had everything. A wife. A family. Now he didn't know what he'd have at the end of the day. 

He glanced up, seeing his sister, her own eyes filled with tears, and she never cried. She knew what she'd done. She might not have liked him but she loved children. Yet he knew what he'd done too. He was at fault too.