Page 3 of Exacting Vengeance

While she’d been born in the United States to native Russians, Yuri and his friend Nikolai—Nikki—had emigrated here twenty years ago with nothing but four thousand rubles between them, the equivalent of fifty U.S. dollars.

After pulling a dress from a hangar, she grabbed shoes from a box. Dressing up, even to go to the grocery store, was an important facet of Russian life. Yuri put a high value on his and her outward appearance. To him, it was a sign that he’d come up in the world and would garner respect. To her, it just seemed like one big competition with everyone trying to outdo one another. Though even her mother was somewhat judgmental if Viktoria went out in public without wearing lipstick. Her mother would “make the face,” and say, “Put on lipstick, you feel better. Is good life advice.”

Two hours later, and wearing more makeup than she would have liked and an expensive Hermès emerald-green silk sheath and matching heels, they’d driven well into farm country south of Chicago.

Viktoria glanced at Yuri’s strong, chiseled profile, relieved that his momentary annoyance with her had passed. She chocked it up to job stress, some new business he’d been putting together with Nikki for their boss, Semyon Novikov. The hand-tailored dark gray suit he wore hugged his muscular, six-foot frame beautifully. He really was such a handsome man, and she was lucky to have him. Outbursts aside, that was.

After passing a large equestrian center and two pet resorts, she asked, “Where are we going?”

“I have a surprise for you, but first, I want to check on property Nikki and I bought for a new investment deal.” At an opening in the tall grass lining both sides of the two-lane highway, he slowed and turned onto a rutted dirt road.

“What kind of investment deal?” She looked out the window as he continued on until they came to the edge of a tiny lake that was more like a big pond.

“Houses.” Yuri stopped the car. “It’s perfect, yes?”

If you say so.

The nearest town was over an hour away, and there was nothing as far as the eye could see except three-foot-high weeds and the lake. A small fish leaped from the water, splashing down and sending gentle ripples toward the shoreline.

“Wait here.” He got out and started walking around the lake.

Occasionally, he turned to look over his shoulder, as if he was searching for something. Only there wasn’t anything out here, except farmland and the smell of cow manure.

Since when had Yuri and Nikki gotten into the housing market? Neither of them was a building contractor.

“How much property did you buy?” she asked when he sat behind the wheel again.

“Three acres.”

“How many houses can you build on three acres?”

“Who cares?” He shrugged. “I like the lake. It’s waterfront property.”

Two hours later, in a suburb just outside the Chicago city limits, they stood before a titanic-sized stucco house.

“All I’m saying is you should drop out of school,” Yuri said, taking another drag on the cigarette he’d lit up. “Temporarily,” he added quickly when she opened her mouth to object. “That way you’ll have time to decorate this house I bought for you.”

Viktoria’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, Yuri! Are you serious?” She and her mother had only lived in small, ratty apartments. Even the one she and Yuri rented was tiny. Living in her own house was a dream-come-true. What could she say to such a loving husband? “Now we can get a dog!” Those two pet resorts they’d passed had instilled the idea in her head, and now she couldn’t let it go.

“Nothing is too good for my beautiful wife. First, we start a family in this house. You’ll be so busy taking care of our children that you won’t have time for school or a dog.”

She couldn’t suppress a frown. “I do want children, lots of them. It’s just that…I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I thought we agreed to put off having children for a few years, at least until I finished my master’s degree.” A dog would have been nice to keep her company for those nights Yuri worked late, often not returning home until the next morning.

A flare of anger sizzled in his darkening eyes, but the look on his face quickly morphed to one of contrition. “Dorogaya. Sweetheart, I love you and only want what’s best for us. For you,” he emphasized. “The owner of this house passed away recently under unfortunate circumstances. I got a great deal on it. You told me how much you want children, and this is a perfect opportunity.”

Dropping out of school hadn’t been part of the plans, but the idea of raising a family in her own house took root and was too dreamy to ignore.

The next day, she officially dropped out of school, promising her professors she would re-matriculate.

But in the back of her mind, Viktoria worried she never would.

“Ashamed?” Yuri slapped her hand away. “I’ve been trying to get you pregnant for six months! I gave you a house, a car, jewelry, furs, and you can’t even give me a son.” He shoved her away roughly, his face reddening, his eyes angry and glaring with contempt.

“Yuri, wait––” Viktoria crawled to his side of the bed and reached out for him. She couldn’t take it when he was this angry, never knowing what he would do next. She had to do something to calm the brewing storm. He shrugged her off and swung around.

The last thing she remembered was the sight of his fist aimed at her head.

Viktoria awoke in the morning and staggered to the bathroom, her face and head aching fiercely with every step. She turned on the light and winced. Another shiner blossomed over the puffy skin around her eye. She stared back at the bruised face in the mirror and automatically began dabbing concealer on the reddish-purple marks. This was the second time he’d hit her.