The Mafia's Prize

Katya knew that her father was perhaps the most stubborn man she had known. He was the kind of man that commanded silence when he walked into a room and could make a man confess without so many words.

But when you live with a brute for twenty years, you somehow become immune to his cold stares and loud orders, which was why she was hastily throwing her clothes into a box against his wishes. She would follow him to Moscow this time, whether he liked it.

“Your father is not going to be pleased, Katya. He said that you are to wait here until he returns.”

Her governess said as she walked into the room.

“You know how he is, Alliluyeva. He will never let me go with him, even when I am married with children. This is my chance to see Russia, and I will not let him take it from me, “Katya replied, stuffing more clothes in, a scowl on her face.

Her governess came to her side and took her face in her palm.

“You have your father’s scowl, but I am afraid it does not suit you at this very moment. You know your father as well as I do; if he sees you on the jet, he will order you to return here and locked up inside the mansion. Remember what happened on your sixteenth birthday?”

Katya sighed. Two weeks before she turned sixteen, she had written her cousins a letter after she found an address in her father's mail. She learned that her aunt had just given birth and asked her father if she wanted to see them for her sixteenth birthday. And, as always, he refused.

But being almost sixteen and strong-willed, she was determined to do everything it took to make the trip. So, she took a cab and snuck into her father's jet before take-off. She would have gotten away with it, except she had motion sickness and could not stomach the vomit. Her father had ordered the plane to go back and given orders to the security guards to keep her confined to the house for a month.

“He will not get me this time. I am much better. I did not throw up when we went on the school trip to New York.” she replied stubbornly.

“And when your father calls to ask if you are here?” her governess placed one hand on her hip.

Katya smiled at her.

“You will tell him I am here, won’t you? Papa won’t doubt if you vouch for me.”

Luyeva shook her head.

“nyet. I will not lie to your father. He needs to know that you are safe, and besides, I will lose my job.”

“You know that no matter what you do, he is not going to fire you because he will not find someone else that will put up with his stubborn, overbearing daughter. You are, as they say, invaluable,” Katya corrected her.

Alliluyeva had been in the family before Katya's mother died at childbirth. She organized, arranged, managed, and practically kept the household together. If there was anyone her father trusted his daughter's life with, it was her.

Her governess smiled. “Somebody had to make sure that your hands were clean, and you came down for dinner. But-" she raised a finger when the girl wanted to speak, "I will not go against his wishes. You must understand that he is doing it to keep you safe."

Katya shrugged.

“Okay. I will not go. I will stay put and remain in the prison that he has sentenced me to.”