Текст книги "Vera the Mistress"

Автор книги: Валентина Басан

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 3 страниц)

Chapter 5

Vera was sitting at a table in a restaurant and nervously swiping the Instagram. Today, in particular, she was not interested in stars, and in general, the children of her fat classmates. Her photo from Courchevel received a huge number of likes and comments, at first she was pleased, even flattered that so many friends from her town are jealous of her beautiful and rich life. But even they today did not warm the tormented soul of the night before the conversation with his wife.

"Good afternoon, Vera. My name is Arina. I don't think you forgot.

Across the table sat a beautiful woman in her mid-thirties, a striking brunette. A black bob accentuated high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes, and pear-shaped diamonds glittered on long fingers. Arina smelled of wealth and paradise. The white blouse revealed a chic cleavage that was barely contained by lace and sexy as hell bra.

Vera had never felt so pathetic in her life. She did not understand Oleg and understood herself by contacting him.

– Good day, Vera! Nice to meet you! – Arina so sincere and radiant smile that Vera was not alone. In another situation, she would have admired the woman and tried to win her trust. But not now.

Strange feeling, Vera's lower belly ached so much that she thought about her period. Ah, no, it was a week ago, there were no problems after the abortion, and the tests were excellent. But a twinge of pain twisted Vera in the ram's horn.

"Is something wrong?" Arina raised an eyebrow, feigning sympathy.

– No.. Vera, barely breathing, got up from the table and hobbled to the toilet on half-bent legs.

Down below was dark and cool. The concept of light on the walls made the lighting near the toilet mysterious, even mystical. Vera tore out the tomato juice and vodka and took a deep breath. Her heart was pounding. After flushing the water, she went out to wash. Redwater flowed from the tap.

– Ahhh! Vera yelled and jumped back to the wall. Empty bathroom only answered with an echo. The toilet was underground, on the floor below, so the sounds of vomiting, love, and water draining were not heard by any of the visitors.

The girl went to the tap, the pain in the lower abdomen did not subside, there was a fire as if someone had impaled the uterus and fried it from all sides.

Vera turned on the tap and made sure that the water was the usual clear color. She washed her face with cold water for a long time, and then raised her head. Instead of her face, a three-month-old fetus with no visible organs or body parts stared back at her, as if a textbook image had been placed on her head. The embryo nodded at her and seemed to shake a semblance of ahead.

Vera woke up in a familiar clinic. The drawing of the white walls would not be confused with any drawing in the world. Anatoly Ivanovich opened the familiar door and said Hello.

– Well, Vera, how are you feeling?

– Good day, Anatoly Ivanovich! What happened?

"Should I ask you why you've been brought in the unconscious for the second time?"

"I, I don't know.

– Fortunately, ArinaPetrovna called me and we saved you in time.

At the name of Oleg's wife, Vera had such a painful spasm in the lower abdomen that she again lost consciousness. It was only in her delirium that it seemed to her that a tall and devilishly beautiful brunette with a bob was hugging her doctor, kissing him, and taking off her medical gown.

Chapter 6

ArinaPetrovnaZlatykh was the only and favorite daughter of the head of the largest Gypsy clan.

Perst, that is his real gypsy name, but not gypsies called him Peter Zlatykh, accepted and acknowledged the only child from the most beautiful and most beloved wife, Dana.

Perst was afraid of Dana's mother, a hereditary witch, so in front of the entire camp announced that Dana was his only wife, and the daughter that Dana gave birth to in the first year, Ara – the only heir.

PerstZlatykh was a real gypsy of the hottest blood. Already at ten, he slaughtered a young man (in the post-Soviet criminal world they call them “fraer”) in the market, and at sixteen went to collect his camp, in other words, organized a criminal group in the South of Moscow City. Perst was about fifty (although no one knew how old he really was) when he took the eighteen-year-old Dana, who was his last and favorite wife.

As soon as Ara was born, Perst has registered her as ArinaPetrovnaZlatykh and translated into the only recognized and legitimate daughter, and all movable and immovable property.

The times were dashing, and there were many young and zealous candidates for his throne. Traitors were punished by the Baron, who himself sentenced them to death, and the sentence was immediately carried out. But in their place came new leaders who demanded a greater share of the sale of drugs, influence on businesses from beggars. The new heads of his armies tried to create their own brothels from prostitutes who came from all over the vast homeland.

The Baron feared every day that he would die, leaving little Ara alone to be devoured by the hungry wolves of the pack. He trusted only one person. To his Deputy, SuleymanKaysarov. It was the leader of the Gypsy mafia who instructed him to take her abroad, to the United States.

"Sulik, you are responsible for Ara with your head, and if something happens to her, none of your family will be left alive. You know me.

– Yes, PerstStevovich, I understand-Suleiman was always stingy with words, so he only adjusted his holster with a gun.

"The documents are ready. According to them, you are the father of Ara, she is only five, but she knows everything and understands why I send her overseas.

– Yes, PerstStevovich.

"I'll let you know when things quiet down here." But for the next ten years, keep your nose out of it. It will be hot here.

Suleiman sniffed. He left his sworn father and boss at such a difficult time to babysit a girl in a distant country, which he saw only in pictures. There, a house, insurance, and a place in a private school were already registered in Ara's name. Sulik was supposed to control the American branch of the Baron's bandits.

At parting, Perst embraced Suleiman, whom he loved as his son. For a long time, he looked into Arina's night-black eyes, stroked the raven's hair, and called her Dana.

"Daddy, I'm Ara.

"I know, my flower, I know, I know, my soul. Your mother looks down on you from heaven, she died when she gave birth to you. But she always keeps you safe. I will always keep you safe.

A terrible and cruel bandit who punished by shooting gave orders to take young women as prostitutes, collected tribute from young beggars, yes, he cried for the second time in his life. The first, when his beloved Dana died in childbirth.

And all the guards, even the heartless Suleiman, had tears in their eyes.

ArinaPetrovnaZlatykh returned to Moscow exactly twenty years later.

On the threshold of his death, Perst was saying goodbye to his beautiful daughter, who was sitting at the head of the bed in one of the most expensive clinics in the capital. Next to him stood the unchanging Suleiman.

"Daddy, maybe Switzerland?" Ara uttered the words with emphasis and with a trembling voice.

"My flower, I am going to my beloved. Don't stop me. Before I die, look, all the property documents are at the home of Sulik's wife. I have money in my Swiss account that will be inherited by you, lawyer Jorik Rosenberg manages all my finances, you know, he helped you when you lived in America. Restaurants here and abroad have already been transferred to your name. But you know that. Come closer to me. Sulik, wait outside the door.

When they were alone in the room, Perst took his daughter's hand and finally said:

"Your grandmother Vadoma was a witch. The entire camp knew and feared the power of her curses. It could have destroyed the fruit, sent a pestilence, or killed a whole herd of horses from a neighboring camp. I also turned to her for help more than once, she gave me a long life, but with the condition that I had to give something in return. But I didn't know then that the dark forces would take my Dana, my soul. Vadoma, having lost her daughter in childbirth, cursed all her gods and asked them to take away all the dark forces from her. Her gods were merciful and returned them … you… I kept the secret of Vadoma for a long time, but when you turned eighteen, Suleiman began to say that he felt strange around you, that you could read minds and get into heads. He also said that the Professor who taught you history jumped out of the window…

"Daddy, it's not me… himself… he just pestered me after lectures.... – Arina was on her knees near her dying father and wept…

– Light of my eyes, I don't blame you, you are my soul. Forgive me.

"For what, daddy?"

"Before she died, Vadoma said that in exchange for your gift, which the gods returned to you, they would take what was most precious from you. You will always be barren.

"What?" Dad? Daddy?!Ahhh!!!

Suleiman ran into the room to the screams, disheveled, tearful, and barefooted Ara tried to shout to the helpless old man.

Only for a moment did the Perst open eyes that had once been black and transparent with age.

– Dad!

– Dana, my Life, I have been coming to you for so long…

After a lavish funeral of the criminal business legend, Ara received an inheritance and lived the life of a rich, fashionable lady. She wasn't interested in drugs, prostitution, or begging.

Having made Suleiman their right-hand man, they hired a staff of the best lawyers to open new, absolutely legal businesses in the field of IT technologies. Arina graduated from the American University with a degree in modern computer programs and websites, so after understanding the Russian market, she invested part of her inheritance in their development.

"Dad would be laughing at me right now if he knew that robots bring me money.

Suleiman silently smiled in the next seat and adjusted his holster out of habit.

– Mila, who's next? Arina asked her Secretary over the phone.

– ArinaPetrovna, Oleg Bryantsev, a post-graduate student from Moscow State University with the project "the Future of computer technologies".

Chapter 7

Vera regained consciousness in the clinic room. Her head was heavy, leaden. Her eyelids didn't open. She fumbled for the nurse's call button.

A few minutes later, the doctor entered the room.

– Anatoly Ivanovich, what's wrong with me? Why I'm here. Can I have some water?

"Yes, Verochka. The nurse will bring you some water and dinner.

"Dinner?" Is it evening?

"You've been here more than a day. Another surgical intervention was necessary.

"What? What happened? Doctor, I felt very well. I had excellent tests. It's been so many months, what's the problem?

– Verochka, I am very sorry to inform you that you can no longer have children. Inflammatory processes in the uterus caused fever and dizziness. You passed out in the restaurant bathroom. You were discovered by Oleg Bryantsev's wife, Arina. She was the one who brought you in her car. You should be grateful to her now. If not she, I don't know how it would have ended…

Vera couldn't believe her ears, and tears were streaming down her cheeks. Nightmare. Nightmare. She pinched herself painfully, and her vision went dark.

"I don't understand, I don't remember…"

"That's normal. At a high temperature, it happens so that to save energy, the body shuts down for a more important, in simple terms, fight. Now everything is fine, rest. The discharge papers will be ready tomorrow, and today you will take another blood test, and the nurse will measure your blood pressure and temperature. If everything is all right, you'll be home by tomorrow night.

Oleg's phone was disconnected or out of network coverage. Vera dialed the number she knew by heart over and over again with a stubborn, stupid persistence until she was exhausted.

– Hello, Vika, hi. It's alright. Can you come tomorrow to two on the Dnieper Promenade 180, I'll send the address? No, nothing serious. I'm being discharged from the clinic. Thank you, see you tomorrow – last word Klimova said hysterically, the voice wavered and she instantly hung up.

Vera didn't want to feel sorry for herself, she was afraid to start and then not stop. She texted the address of the clinic to a friend, put the empty battery phone on the charger, wrote to her worried mother on her twenty messages "mom, a lot of work, I can't call for a few more days, we rent objects, love, and kiss, hello to dad", turned to the wall with unusual patterns and silently howled.

VikaVolokh, a colleague, and friend was tall, blond, and green-eyed, as precise as a Swiss watch. Filling the clinic's lobby with the aroma of fresh pastries, coffee, and expensive perfume, she gave Vera a businesslike look, introduced herself as a sister, and received all the documents and statements. Vera, like a faded carnation on a monument, leaned against the reception desk, suddenly noticed a familiar silhouette in the distance along the corridor. The girl went to the head doctor's door, but the secretary beat her to it.

– Sorry, Anatoly Ivanovich is busy right now.

"I'm sorry, I…"

– Yes. Klimova, Vera Sergeevna. Anatoly Ivanovich has already signed the documents for your discharge.

"I just wanted to say thanks and say goodbye."

– The doctor has a consultation now, I'm sorry, you can't see him.

Vera had already turned to leave when the communicator on the secretary's desk asked for two coffees in the voice of the chief doctor.

"And juice, Tosha, I need fresh juice," the voice on the speakerphone said with a loud laugh.

– Dasha, bring two coffees and fresh orange juice, please.

– Of course, Anatoly Ivanovich.

– Vera Sergeevna? – the secretary has already left the table and addressed the girl, – Can I help you with anything else?

"No, no, thank you. Tell me, who is in Anatoly Ivanovich's office now?

– This is closed information, – Daria shrugged her shoulders and swam to make coffee and fresh orange juice on perfectly long and straight legs for her boss and ArinaBryantseva, Oleg's wife.

Vika made tea with berries and melissa, put the tray on the small coffee table, and sat down on the sofa next to Vera.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Are you going to be silent for a long time?" What happened?

– Nothing. All right.

Vika nodded and went into the hall.

"Where are you going?" Vera got up weakly from the sofa and threw off the blanket, shivering, although there was no temperature.

– Home.

– Vika, wait, and tea?

Always temperamental and cheerful friend exploded like a bomb:

– Tea? What kind of tea, Vera? You're in a clinic, you've had fainting spells, surgery, and abortion, which, by the way, is not listed in this statement. It's listed in the history of your medicine cabinet. What the hell, friend? Are you a normal person? Why don't I know anything?

Vicki's green eyes burned with righteous fire. She was standing in the corridor in one boot and an unbuttoned raincoat. Angry, brave, and beautiful.

"Vic, I'm sorry, I couldn't tell you, it's embarrassing and painful.

"So I'm a stranger to you?"

– No, not a stranger, sorry, – Vera sighed and trudged to the sofa, she took the cup and took a small sip, then resolutely took a deep breath.

Vika listened with her mouth open, still sitting on the sofa in her raincoat, her boot in her hands, having forgotten to take it to the corridor. Vera told about Oleg, about their secret affair, which lasts more than a year, told about the abortion, about travel, about calls from his wife, meeting, and events of the last days.

Twilight faded into the late evening, and then into the night. The girls were sitting on the sofa, one occasionally crying and falling silent, while the other only nodded sympathetically and shook her head.

Vera finished her story and covered her face with her hands. She felt lighter as if a heavy stone had fallen from her shoulders and was pressing her to the ground. A secret affair with a married man was no longer just her secret.

But for some reason, Vika was more interested in his wife than in Oleg.

"Verushka, dear, this is not the worst thing, believe me. We all make mistakes. You're still young, but I'm five years older than you, and I once slept with a married man.

Vera looked at her friend gratefully. She knew that Vika was telling all this to comfort her, but saint Vika, the mother of an equally fair four-year-old beauty daughter and the wife of a famous Moscow lawyer, could not be.

– Yes, before I met Misha, I worked as a designer in Novosibirsk, you know, but you don't know why I moved to Moscow. My boss, Roman Andreevich, was an elementary womanizer and a freak. But that doesn't mean it's not my fault. Guilty, Ver, of course, guilty. A twenty-year-old naive fool who fell for the sweet speeches, speeches, and empty chatter of an elderly ladies ' man. Naturally, at the corporate party, it happened right in his office. It was later that I found out that all our women's team had been there before me, including the accountant ValentinaVladimirovna, his age, with whom he had had affairs twenty years ago when both were young and hot. His wife, who had long endured his infidelities and debauchery, for some reason went berserk on me. Not only did she make a scene at my house in front of my parents, but she also brought her children to work so they could see "daddy's new whore." The entire team was in shock, each with fear thought that in my place could be it. But many of our women also had families and children. My affair with Roman Andreevich ended with a couple of times of dubious quality of comfort in the office before it had time to begin and flourish. The hero-lover cowardly suggested that I write of my own accord, which I did with great pleasure. My parents calmed me down and blessed me for Moscow. And I, Verunchik, am happy that I came here. Here I met Misha, my love, my happiness. But he has not yet shown me his documents and passport with an empty column about marital status, I even forbade him to kiss. We're still laughing. He, by the way, that's why he married me, said that he had never seen anyone like me. And I told him that I had vowed never to have any personal dealings with married men in my life.

Vera never talked to her friend about her personal life. She knew the Volokh family, sometimes went to birthday parties, but always alone. Vera was silent about her married lover, and Vika pretended not to notice her secretive personal life. Vera did not know that in the past, Victoria had such an instructive and difficult story, although with a happy ending. And Vika, in turn, having heard her friend's story, felt that the situation had gone too far. Vika realized that Vera had already lost this battle. The main thing is that ArinaBryantseva in this unequal struggle felt sorry and let go of the stupid fool. Although in the back of her mind, something told Vika that Ara did not take prisoners and shot them on the spot.

Chapter 8

Oleg Bryantsev has always been a very exemplary boy, a loving son, and a caring grandson. He loved his mother and grandmother very much. In fairness, it should be noted that mother Olga and grandmother Zina loved Oleg thousands and millions of times more. If this overprotection and putting a child on a pedestal as a little God can be called love.

Oleg's father left the family when the boy was eighteen years old. Having suffered in eternal quarrels and scandals about the upbringing of the child, the family broke up, the father was forbidden to punish the boy for pranks, give him to sports or take him fishing. It was a pity to punish him, he could get injured in sports, and in nature – catch a cold. The slightest desire of a man to teach his son was met with hostility. And it ended with another stupid and vulgar scandal.

Grandmother Zina, who came from the countryside to help with her grandson, remained in Moscow. Bryantsev senior's apartment was a large one, left as a legacy by rich and distinguished relatives. His great-aunt had no children, and the only heir was a grandson her dear and beloved sister, Maxim Bryantsev, Oleg's father.

Having met Olya at an exhibition of paintings, a modest, visiting girl studying the art of the Silver age, Maxim just a few months later made an offer. Pair of Bryantsevs was a demonstration among the society of artists and the Bohemia of Moscow. Quiet, intelligent, and smiling Maxim and Olga carefully hid their main life cross, they tried to get pregnant for a long time, but fate, generous in everything, did not give them a child for many years.

Maxim was forty, Olga was thirty-eight.

– Pregnant! – with joy and relief, the district gynecologist reported.

The late pregnancy was severe. Olya went blue from toxicosis and thin from headaches and nausea. In the last months, she was put on storage. And behold, at the beginning of the ninth month, the long-awaited first child, OlezhkaBryantsev, was born.

The boy was very weak and sickly. Baba Zina rushing to help her daughter, and it was reliable support and help. They took turns sleeping, the little boy screamed from colic and often had a fever. In the first three years of life, three adults never got eight hours of sleep each. Oleg was ill with all children's and adult diseases, lay in all hospitals, managed to break not only his hands but also his legs on the playground, so until he was three years old, they did not let him down and did not lose sight of him.

A little later it became easier, the boy got a little stronger, almost equal in height and weight with his peers, was ill once every six months and almost never missed school.

The family returned to its usual rhythm of life, Maxim and Olga were engaged in work in the field of art, and Olga's mother helped around the house and with Oleg.

– Pregnant, – the district gynecologist looked at Olga.

In the house until the morning there was a discussion, Olga decided to give birth, although Maxim was against it. The mother was on her daughter's side.

The miscarriage occurred almost at the sixth month, or rather, the child could not stand the virus that Olga got sick with, and died in utero. She asked not to tell the gender of the unborn child, even though she knew in her heart that it was a girl. She had already secretly named her, Eva.

Since then, the Bryantsevs family has had a black streak. Olga gave up her job at the state gallery and devoted herself to her son. And if his grandmother had taken care of him before, now both women were praying for him. At first, the husband blamed his wife's insanity on a severe loss and then realized that the wife had gone mad because of her only son. All-day long they waited for him from school, taking him to music, drawing, and language classes. Maxim wanted to give him to swim but met with such a cruel rebuff that he closed the subject.

Once Oleg, spoiled by two eternal servants, stole a pension from his grandmother's purse and bought binoculars, cigarettes, and chocolate. Maxim wanted to punish the impudent youth, but his mother and grandmother, with bloodshot eyes, rushed at his father and son-in-law like tigresses.

The head of the family began to come home later and later. Then he started staying with a work colleague. But he left the family like a decent man, leaving everything when the child turned eighteen.

Oleg, who had pretty much driven his mother and grandmother with his antics, became subdued after his father left. Looking at himself from the outside, he shook himself up, entered the Moscow Polytechnic, and moved to a hostel. Without his mother and his grandmother, it was difficult for the first few weeks. Then he forgot that someone had cooked for him, washed, cleaned, and ironed. He made friends with his classmates and was surprised to discover football and swimming.

Oleg was the best in computer science at the University. In the late nineties, computers were available to ordinary citizens like spaceships. And having learned that the computer wants their happiness, his mother and his grandmother called Oleg's father and asked for half of the sum of money. He listened to the offer, bought and brought to them a real computer, a gift for his son's birthday by himself.

The only condition that the computer was at the mother’s and grandmother’s flat (Maxim's former apartment), Oleg was happy as a young dolphin. Now he disappeared for days in the family home. Mother Olya and grandmother Zina was crying with emotions of happiness, his father came once a week to visit his son and always found him at home, on the spot. Moreover, Anatoliy, his best friend, who was finishing medical school, came to work on the computer with Oleg every day. And women, instead of one, now had a double joy. They loved Tolik as if he was their son and grandson.