"Too bad. I'm the lord of this place now. And who cares? They can easily be bought with enough money. They can't be trusted. I'm not worried about their families, either. They can get other jobs elsewhere." Yurie replies.
A short pause.
"Then they all die." he says coldly. Unfeeling, uncaring. Exactly like frozen stone.
Ariella let out a string of insults in Italian. "If this is how you behave towards your staff I would hate to see what a ruler you are. The best people know they would be nowhere without the help. This is no way how to treat people. They are not lesser than you. They do not deserve to die because you are untrusting."
She was at her feet now, finger in his chest and face in his. She was angry. Angry was good. Better than being sad. And she had a heart. She enjoyed her staff, she often found herself in conversations with them. It was a reprise from the life she had been forced into.
"You will not touch them. You will put it through me with who.you would like to dismiss and your reasoning and I will decide whether or not to let them go. This is my house. They are on my bankroll."
Yurie doesn't even flinch.
"I don't have staff. I got where I am on my own. By killing and maiming. These people are lesser than me. They should fall at my feet when they see me. They should bow down and pray that I don't take their pitiful lives." he growls.
He takes her hand and uses it to pin her to the wall of her room, kicking the door closed.
"Now that I am here you own nothing. This is now my house. I own it and everything in it, including you. I don't have to explain myself to anybody, least of all you. It is your job to stay on the property and stay out of my way. Do you understand? You, and all the 'people' here, are undeserving of my attention. It's just that in your case, I have to protect you, per your father's contract." he growls softly.
Ariella spat in his face as she found herself pinned against the wall. No one treated her like this and got away with it. No one.
"Non possiedi niente finché non siamo sposati. E proprio come succede, non lo siamo. niente è tuo. È la mia casa, i miei soldi, il mio staff. Puoi far restare il mio staff e farò del mio meglio per lamentarmi. Oppure puoi fare quello che vuoi e ti combatterò in ogni fase del cammino. La tua scelta." She wasn't letting this go without a fight. This was her home. These were her people. She would fight until she was dead for them. What kind of leader would she be if she wasn't.
Yurie, again, doesn't flinch. He simply wipes off his face.
"Chiaramente non hai letto l'intero contratto. Tuttavia, per porre fine a questa discussione, ignorerò le tue trasgressioni e mi comporterò come se tu non mi avessi insultato." he replies, letting her go.
She would understand later how big a bullet she'd just dodged. For now, he would leave her be entirely, until a week has passed.
"Vaffanculo a te e al tuo contratto. Se fai del male a qualcuno del mio staff, ti metto una pallottola in testa." Ariella threw at him. One last attempt to save her staff.
She knew there was always a possibility of betrayl. A better pocket of coin, incentive. But she knee her staff. She spoke to them. She knew about their troubles and worries. She knew how their family was doing and had met some of them on more than one occasion.
"Get. Out. Get out of my room." She didn't care where he went as long as it was away from her.
"Good luck with that, dear. One of the first things my father did to train me was shoot at me until I stopped flinching and could dodge a bullet as it reached an inch of my face. There is nothing you can threaten me with. I'll hold off on firings. However. This does not mean I am holding off firing the guards. I'll know if anything happens to you, anyways." Yurie snorts.
"Already planned on it. I'll be in the cellars. Tell me when you're leaving." he replies, letting her go and stepping out of the room.
Ariella flipped hom off as he walked out of her room, one last act of defiance from her. Once she was well certain he was gone, she collapsed on her he'd and let out a pent up scream into her pillow.
She muttered several obscenities. Some along the lines of, What an absolute cunt. Fucking alpha male. Think he can do whatever he wants.
She didn't move for a long while, letting her thoughts turn and roll over in her head. She finally got a grip on her reality, she slud out of bed and headed towards her bedroom door.
She made the long trip down to the kitchen where she opened the alcohol cabinet. She grabbed a bottke of vodka and poured herself a shot, threw it back, then poured herself another one. She drummed her fingers against the marble counter in agitation.
What to do, what to do?
She wasn't going to get permission to go or do anything. She was an adult. She should be allowed to do as she pleased. And yet part of her wasn't quite ready to leave yet. She was tired and overwhelmed and so, so hurt.
She debated taking another shot but she needed to be within her right mind. She didn't trust getting drunk, especially around a stranger who could take advantage of her vulnerable state. With that in mind, she put the bottle back in the cabinet and put the shot glass in the sink.
She opened the fridge and grabbed a can of sprite out of it, opening it, and pouring it into a cold glass.
She heard her stomach rumbled yet she didn't have an appetite. She hadn't for a long while. The smell of food made her nauseous, much less eating it. She had been sick enough since her father's death, she didn't want to make any of it worse.
About an hour later, Yurie climbs up the stairs, onto the first floor, and thus, the kitchen.
He eyes the shot glass in the sink, then Ariella, silently.
"I see we're day drinking. Mind if I join you?" he asks after a moment.
He didn't care if she said no - he'd grab a bottle of alcohol anyways, he just wanted to see what she would say.
Ariella raised her head as she sipped her sprite through the metal straw. She pulled out a rocks glass and opened the cabinet of alcohol.
"What do you prefer, we have just about everything. We have more alcohol in our bar if you don't see anything you like." She glanced uo at him.
The alcohol in the kitchen was their person alcohol ment for personal use. The bar was for hosting. Meetings, friends, parties, anything really. It was only used for her father's meetings, however. No one was invited to the house unless it was deemed important and safe.
Yurie leans down, looking through the bottles and selecting the strongest alcohol he finds - a nice large bottle of Spirytus vodka.
He poors himself a full glass, then downs it with a neat flick of his wrist.
"Found something I like." he replies with a straight face, pouring another glass and downing that too.
He smiles bitterly.
"It's funny. In America, I'm barely of age to drink. I'd still get carded. In Russia I can do whatever I want. Truly a strange experience, being able to walk through a street and not have anyone slip into the nearest open building out of fear."
Ariella just hummed softly. She had not experience with such a thing. She was rarely allowed outside much less in public.
She hopped up on the counter and set her empty glass next to her. Subconsciously, she started playing with her nails, picking at the loose skin around them. Her stomach rumbled again but she payed no mind to it. She wasn't hungry.
"So other then firing my staff, what are your plans?"
"Make some food. The cellar stores are all safe, from what I can tell." Yurie sighs, pouring another glass and downing that too before putting the vodka back in the cupboard and the glass in the sink.
"Because judging from how your stomach sounds, you really need food." he adds.
He goes back down into the cellar and comes back up with ingredients to make pelmeni.
Ariella muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes at his back as he walked away. Her food was safe.
She swung her legs back and forth, leaning back on her hands behind her. She watched him walk back in.
"You know how to cook? That's new. I'm not used to men in my life cooking."
"I make my own food evey day, yes I know how to cook." Yurie replies shortly, finding some oil and a pan, setting the pan on the glass top of the stove and starting to heat it up.
He steps back from the pan and turns to Ariella.
"You have fresh ingredients here." he says conversationally.
Sitting on the counter, dressed in nothing but sweats and a graphic tee, she looked very much her age, younger even. She looked the part of any nineteen year old girl, not the older woman she had been forced into.
"I suppose so. We have a garden. We use our own vegetables and stuff that we grow." She shrugged her shoulders. She didn't have a green thumb. Most things tended to die when she was taking care of plants.
She heard a tentative meow and looked over to see one of her cats, Sammy, treading into the kitchen. The other two were likely hiding from the intruder.
"I'll tend to it myself." Yurie shrugs, before looking over at the cat with a curious expression.
He crouches, holding his hand out for the tiny creature to sniff, so that the cat determines if he could pet it. He understood cats don't submit to anyone, unless they want to.
"What's its name?" he asks.
"We have Gardners for that, if you don't fire them," Ariella scoffed under her breath. She cared not if he heard her or not. "Do you have a plan to replace my staff? This house can't run itself with only the two of us. I'd rather not see it deteriorate."
She pursed her lips as she watched Yurie with her cat, a small fear blooming in her chest. He wouldn't take her pets away from her would he? Her pets were her life, the only love she had. She would kill for them.
"That one is Sammy. He's more brave than the others."
The Siberian cat was fluffy with its long hair, but also fat, despite the dieting and exercise. Ariella had done her best with him bit he was stubborn and there wasn't much else to try.
"I have taken care of a 4 story mansion all by myself for three years. My minions live elsewhere, and I have no servants. I am very distrustful, and am very proud." Yurie shrugs.
He watches the cat calmly, waiting for the living cottonball to warm up to his presence.
"Sammy is brave? That's a strange thing to say, as he hesitates to come any closer to me." he murmurs.
Ariella drew her bottom lip between her teeth, biting it, before releasing it. Stubborn man.
"Yes, I would say brave, because the other two are likely hiding under a bed somewhere upstairs. They don't do well with strangers."
Sammy sniffed his hand as he crept closer. He was hesitant before rubbing his head along his hand, wanting pets.
"This one only thinks about food and pets. It's the only reason he's down here. One more person to trick into feeding him."
"I won't be a stranger for long." Yurie chuckles, starting to rub the cat behind its ears.
"He's like me in some ways, then." he says, standing up and slipping the cat a piece of raw beef before starting on the process of making the pelmeni.
He turns to the alcohol cabinet, looking through it to find a weak potato vodka.
"No don't feed him, he's trying to loose weight. The vet said he's too fat." Arieall hopped off the counter and picked up the cat, cradling him in her arms.
She pressed a soft kiss to his head before setting down the squirming cat.
"It will still take them all time to adjust." It would take her time as well.
"Nah, he's just. . . what's the word again?" Yurie pauses, then huffs in frustration.
"Нет, он просто мясистый. . ." he whispers to himself before raising his voice.
"Beefy." he finishes proudly, pouring some of the vodka into the pan with the oil.
Ariella snorted. "He's fat. But thanks for the vote of confidence."
She walked to the pantry and found some bread. She grabbed a slice and buttered it before taking a bite. She took a seat at the island bar stool as she watched him cook.
She hoped she would be able to keep the piece of bread down. It seemed to be filling her stomach at the moment.
"Any time." Yurie replies, focused entirely on cooking now.
He quickly makes the dough, then tosses the other ingredients into the dough shell, crimping the sides and frying it in the vodka-oil mixture.
About ten minutes later he uses his hands to grab the pelmeni from the pan, tossing them onto the bare counter for a moment while he rummages around for two plates.
Ariella eyes the food on the counter, glowering. Food did not belong on the counter without parchment paper or something in between it.
She watched him Rimage around her kitchen as she picked at her nails. She blood had longed dried and wounds had stabbed over. She picked at them now, enjoying the pain it gave her.
"Anything I can help you with?"
"No, I got it." he replies, finally finding the plates and grabbing two, placing one pelmeni on his and one on hers, sliding her one of the plates.
"Eat." he says, finding the forks quickly and handing her one before digging into his food.
Ariella looked down at the plate. She picked up the fork, pushing around her food, staring at the counter in front of her.
"Why are you doing this?" She asked softly. "And don't say the contract. No one knows about it outside of the two of us. Is it money? Men? A woman? I doubt you're short of that. Perhaps you want an heir."
"If your father were here to hear me, I'd reply with 'love,' as far-fetched as that would sound. I doub I'm capable of that emotion. But since it's you asking, I'll give it to you straight. The only reason why I'm here is because of the contract. I might divorce you in a year and leave you with Italy. I have nigh unlimited resources in Russia anyways, I don't need Italy on top of that. I don't crave physical affection or anyhing, I have no need of women. They get in the way of my duties as the head of Russia's mafia. I know I don't swing for guys, but I don't judge people that do. I'll kill a gay man as brutally as I'll kill a straight man." Yurie replies.
Ariella raised her head, stating at him. She leaned back in the bar stool. "So that's it? Because you are an honorable man? That you are loyal and follow your word? I don't believe that for a second. You are not an honorable man."
She got up off the bar stool and strode to him. "I'll offer you this one last time. You can walk out that door and no one ever need know about this contract. You go your way and I'll go mine. You are free from your debt that you think you owe."
She held her chin up high, back straight, and arms by her side. She looked much more put together than she really was. Inside, she was dying.
