Paradise Falling (ONC 2024)

11 -- Vitaly

This chapter is dedicated to itsmeimthevampire whose ONC entry Dracula and her Bride gets quite steamy from the get go and promises some gore, blood, vampires, werewolves, corpses, and a love story through the ages.  I'm already excited where the story will take us.

Nicosia, Cyprus

February 2024

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We touch down in Nicosia just as the sun comes up and stop for breakfast at a small restaurant not too far from the airport. Chelsea took shelter in the smaller bedroom shortly after take-off and opted to stay on the plane, so it's just Anton and I being led to the table by a young waitress with a flowing, chestnut brown mane and curves that would drive most men into her bed. Anton punishes me with silence while gazing around with his typical brooding expression.

He folds into a chair with the back to the wall and an eye on the window, slamming down his phone. "I think this is a bad idea. We are wasting precious time."

"Yes, you said that already." More than a dozen times. "And a few hours won't make a difference." I smile at the waitress offering me a menu. Flipping it around, I find nothing on the back. Smallest selection ever. "Sweet Tahini Pie and spearmint tea, please."

"Just coffee for me." Anton shoos the waitress away with a wave. "I'll eat on the plane. Hopefully, this hospital visit won't take long."

"It'll take as long as it takes."

"Trust me, you wanna make it quick. If Icarus finds out about the detour, he'll be less than pleased."

"He'll get over it. Vitaly is my son and I have a right to see him."

Anton rolls his eyes.

"What?"

"I just don't get why you want to assume this father role so badly. In the last four years, you couldn't have seen Vitaly more than six times. Why are you so eager to visit him now, when we are so close to finding Marcel Pierce, and risk pissing Icarus off by going against orders?"

"I don't like how things have been going with Vitaly lately. Icarus has too much control over him. I don't want my son exposed to the criminal activities of the Disciples at his age. He's only twelve and doesn't need that sort of violence in his life."

"Well, you and I have worked for the Disciples since we were teenagers and we turned out okay."

That's highly debatable. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Fine, suit yourself, but don't complain when you get into hot water with your uncle. When he finds out that you flew to Cyprus instead of the States, there'll be hell to pay."

I rub the space above my eyes to massage away the pain. I don't even want to think about what Icarus will do if I'm caught. "Hopefully, we will be back in the air and halfway to New York before he knows. Now let's eat a bite and visit my son." The rest will fall into place.

The Tahini pie tastes stale and the mint tea is too sweet; I leave without giving a tip and with close to an empty stomach. By the time we pull up to the hospital, my headache is so bad that I'm sick; as I follow the nurse assigned to take me to Vitaly, the bright neon lights in the hallways hurt my eyes. Yet, the second I cross the threshold to my son's room, his lips split to the widest grin. This detour was so worth it.

"Babá!" He stretches out his arm for a side hug. Looking around me, he beams at Anton and changes to a throatier voice. "Yo, dude, what's up?"

"Not much." Anton drops into the visitor chair. "Your old man has been a pain in my ass"—he smirks at me and wiggles his brows—"but you know yourself how he is."

I shake my head at his inappropriate comment.

"What are you two doing here?" Vitaly's eyes shine like those of an innocent child.

I mock-punch him in the shoulder. "I heard you busted your knee, so, of course, I had to come and check on you."

"Grandpa said it's not that bad."

Icarus isn't your grandfather.

I don't say the reminder out loud. It took Vitaly years to accept that Konstantin hadn't been his dad and I no longer force other family issues. "Well, I don't want to hear Icarus's opinion. How do you feel? Are you in a lot of pain?"

"Nah, just a little. I'm tough."

"That you are." I tousle his hair. "Although I don't think you'll be able to play soccer for a while."

"It's fine. That'll give me more time with grandpa. He showed me how to shoot a gun." Vitaly bites his lips. "He promised we'd go hunting soon."

The excitement in his eyes is sickening.

"Not sure if I like the sound of that."

His forehead wrinkles. "Why? What's wrong with hunting?"

"Guns aren't toys, Vitaly."

"I know. Grandpa said we have to respect them, that's why it's important that I learn how to shoot them properly."

Or not at all.

"Maybe you should ask Icarus to take you fishing. Leave the hunting and shooting bit for when you are older."

"I don't like fishing. My dad"—he clears his throat—"sorry, I mean Konstantin, he took me a few times when I was little. I always got sick on the boat."

"Then maybe you and Icarus can do something else that's fun."

Anything that doesn't involve shooting a gun.

"Don't listen to your babá, kiddo," Anton butts in at the most inopportune moment. "There's nothing wrong with guns."

I'm about to give him a snide reply when a knock draws my attention to the door. The intruder is Rostya, one of my uncle's personal goons he found years ago in an orphanage in Russia. The warmth drains from my face.

"Vitaly, pes antío ston patéra sou." Rostya's Greek is as flawless as mine. He meets my gaze and doesn't even attempt to be amicable. "Mr. Pappas would like a word with you and Mr. Worcheck."

WP total word count: 10,439

So Bastian has been busted for coming to Cyprus and is on his way to meet Icarus. Do you think the big boss will go easy on him or will we have to say goodbye to our narrator? Also, how do you think Icarus found out that Bastian went against orders? All theories and other comments welcome, and please don't forget to hit the star button if the chapter deserved it. Thanks for reading!