Page 102
Story: Porcelain Vows
“Not used to being called sister,” she admits, accepting the tea. “Feels strange.”
“For me too.” I sit in the chair beside her bed, giving her space while remaining close. “But I’ve been talking to you my whole life, in a way. As Boyana.”
She sips the tea, watching me over the rim of her cup. The wariness remains, but something else flickers in her eyes— curiosity, perhaps. Or hope.
“The doctor says you can get up if you feel strong enough,” I continue. “I thought maybe a walk in the gardens would be nice. Some fresh air.”
She considers this, then nods. “I’d like that.”
Twenty minutes later, we stroll side by side along a gravel path winding through Blackwood Manor’s meticulously maintained gardens. Sofia moves slowly, still weak from the medication and emotional exhaustion, but her steps grow steadier as we progress. The morning sun bathes everything in a gentle light, highlighting a day that’s crisp and clean after last night’s downpour.
We find a secluded bench beneath a flowering cherry tree, positioned to catch the sun while offering privacy from the main house. In the distance, Bobik sits in his wheelchair on the main lawn, Maria beside him pointing out something in a book.
“There is a lot to talk about,” Sofia finally breaks the silence. She shoots a sidelong glance at me before looking away.
“Yes,” I say. “But only if it will make you feel better.”
“I think it would, but… I don’t know where to begin,” Sofia says. Her hands twist together in her lap, an uncharacteristicdisplay of nervousness from a woman I’ve only known as calculated and composed.
“We have time.” I answer.
She takes a deep breath. “I suppose I should explain about Aleksei. About why I was engaged to him.”
I nod, giving her space to continue.
“It was an arranged match,” she says, eyes fixed on the distant horizon. “Bratva business. My father wanted to merge operations with the Tarasov organization. I was just a pawn in his game.”
“You didn’t love Aleksei,” I observe.
A bitter laugh escapes her. “Love has nothing to do with Bratva marriages. As a woman born into that world, you’re meaningless unless you’re someone’s wife. Preferably someone powerful.”
Looking at Sofia— Boyana— I see fragments of my own face, my own pain, reflected back at me. The same shaped eyes, though hers hold a hardness mine lack. The same cheekbones, the same curve of jaw. We are so similar, yet distorted by vastly different lives.
“I accepted it,” she continues. “It was my duty to Father. Then I met Gianni at a business function.”
The name sends a chill through me. “Gianni Maranzano.”
“Yes.” She glances at me. “Your ex-fiancé. I didn’t know that at first. He was charming, attentive— everything Aleksei wasn’t. He made me feel… special.”
I think of Gianni’s manipulative charm, his ability to make anyone feel like the center of his universe while pursuing his own agenda. “I understand that all too well.”
“What I didn’t know was that Gianni had his own vendetta against Aleksei. A business rivalry involving weapons deals. When he discovered I was engaged to Aleksei, he saw an opportunity.” Her voice hardens. “And I was foolish enough to become his willing accomplice.”
“What happened?” I ask, though I suspect I already know parts of the answer.
“Aleksei left me at the altar. Publicly humiliated me. You probably know that much.” The pain in her voice sounds fresh despite the months that have passed. “My father was furious— not because he cared about me, but because the alliance was ruined. I became worthless to him overnight.”
I think about how desperate my parents must have been to sell their first baby. The weight of being unwanted seems to have followed Sofia from birth, shaping her into someone defined by rejection.
“Gianni offered a partnership,” she continues. “Revenge against Aleksei, destroying his personal life, acquiring his business contracts. We discovered your brother was in financial trouble, used that as leverage.”
The mention of Nick makes me tense slightly. “Nick was just a pawn, too.”
“Yes. We needed someone inside Aleksei’s organization. Someone who could be pressured.” She looks down at her hands. “Gianni was already planning to sabotage Aleksei’s weapons business by undercutting his prices through Pakistani suppliers. He needed client lists, delivery schedules.”
The scope of their plot startles me. I’d known pieces— Nick’s debt, Gianni’s involvement— but not the full extent of the conspiracy.
“My father financed the operation,” Sofia adds. “He wanted Aleksei ruined as much as I did. Gianni was brilliant enough to transfer the client list to offshore servers before his death. The operation came to an end when my father died.”
“For me too.” I sit in the chair beside her bed, giving her space while remaining close. “But I’ve been talking to you my whole life, in a way. As Boyana.”
She sips the tea, watching me over the rim of her cup. The wariness remains, but something else flickers in her eyes— curiosity, perhaps. Or hope.
“The doctor says you can get up if you feel strong enough,” I continue. “I thought maybe a walk in the gardens would be nice. Some fresh air.”
She considers this, then nods. “I’d like that.”
Twenty minutes later, we stroll side by side along a gravel path winding through Blackwood Manor’s meticulously maintained gardens. Sofia moves slowly, still weak from the medication and emotional exhaustion, but her steps grow steadier as we progress. The morning sun bathes everything in a gentle light, highlighting a day that’s crisp and clean after last night’s downpour.
We find a secluded bench beneath a flowering cherry tree, positioned to catch the sun while offering privacy from the main house. In the distance, Bobik sits in his wheelchair on the main lawn, Maria beside him pointing out something in a book.
“There is a lot to talk about,” Sofia finally breaks the silence. She shoots a sidelong glance at me before looking away.
“Yes,” I say. “But only if it will make you feel better.”
“I think it would, but… I don’t know where to begin,” Sofia says. Her hands twist together in her lap, an uncharacteristicdisplay of nervousness from a woman I’ve only known as calculated and composed.
“We have time.” I answer.
She takes a deep breath. “I suppose I should explain about Aleksei. About why I was engaged to him.”
I nod, giving her space to continue.
“It was an arranged match,” she says, eyes fixed on the distant horizon. “Bratva business. My father wanted to merge operations with the Tarasov organization. I was just a pawn in his game.”
“You didn’t love Aleksei,” I observe.
A bitter laugh escapes her. “Love has nothing to do with Bratva marriages. As a woman born into that world, you’re meaningless unless you’re someone’s wife. Preferably someone powerful.”
Looking at Sofia— Boyana— I see fragments of my own face, my own pain, reflected back at me. The same shaped eyes, though hers hold a hardness mine lack. The same cheekbones, the same curve of jaw. We are so similar, yet distorted by vastly different lives.
“I accepted it,” she continues. “It was my duty to Father. Then I met Gianni at a business function.”
The name sends a chill through me. “Gianni Maranzano.”
“Yes.” She glances at me. “Your ex-fiancé. I didn’t know that at first. He was charming, attentive— everything Aleksei wasn’t. He made me feel… special.”
I think of Gianni’s manipulative charm, his ability to make anyone feel like the center of his universe while pursuing his own agenda. “I understand that all too well.”
“What I didn’t know was that Gianni had his own vendetta against Aleksei. A business rivalry involving weapons deals. When he discovered I was engaged to Aleksei, he saw an opportunity.” Her voice hardens. “And I was foolish enough to become his willing accomplice.”
“What happened?” I ask, though I suspect I already know parts of the answer.
“Aleksei left me at the altar. Publicly humiliated me. You probably know that much.” The pain in her voice sounds fresh despite the months that have passed. “My father was furious— not because he cared about me, but because the alliance was ruined. I became worthless to him overnight.”
I think about how desperate my parents must have been to sell their first baby. The weight of being unwanted seems to have followed Sofia from birth, shaping her into someone defined by rejection.
“Gianni offered a partnership,” she continues. “Revenge against Aleksei, destroying his personal life, acquiring his business contracts. We discovered your brother was in financial trouble, used that as leverage.”
The mention of Nick makes me tense slightly. “Nick was just a pawn, too.”
“Yes. We needed someone inside Aleksei’s organization. Someone who could be pressured.” She looks down at her hands. “Gianni was already planning to sabotage Aleksei’s weapons business by undercutting his prices through Pakistani suppliers. He needed client lists, delivery schedules.”
The scope of their plot startles me. I’d known pieces— Nick’s debt, Gianni’s involvement— but not the full extent of the conspiracy.
“My father financed the operation,” Sofia adds. “He wanted Aleksei ruined as much as I did. Gianni was brilliant enough to transfer the client list to offshore servers before his death. The operation came to an end when my father died.”
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