The Russian's Greed by Cap Daniels (feel good books to read .TXT) 📕

for the Rodina flooded through Anya’shead as she imagined the pain the dancers had endured to become whatthey were.

Four minutes into thefirst act, a ballerina adorned in perfect white descended a narrowstaircase at center stage, performing a flawless pirouette en pointeas her tortured toes hit every step. Her technique and strengthastonished everyone in the theater, and the crowd rose as one inuproarious applause and shouts of “Bravo! Bravo!”

The ballerina continuedto the front of the stage and performed the traditional reverence asthe crowd continued their admiration.

Anya had seen dozens ofperformances, but what happened next was unheard of in the ballet. Asthe ballerina bowed with the same elegance she had displayedthroughout her entrance, a disembodied voice rang through thetheater. “Ladies and gentlemen, the youngest prima ballerina in thehistory of the Bolshoi National Second Company, Ms. Anya Volkovna.”

The applauseheightened, and Anya turned to Viktor in disbelief. “Anya Volkovna?She is your daughter?”

Volkov bowed slightly.“My niece. My brother’s only daughter.”

As the applause waned,the orchestra played on, and the performance continued. At the end ofthe final act, while the audience poured their praise and applausetoward the stage, Volkov stood, took Anya’s arm, and led her fromthe box. A tuxedoed young man placed a bouquet of roses in Volkov’shand just outside the box and motioned toward the private elevator tothe stage. When the small door of the elevator car opened, Viktormotioned for Anya to step out first. She did, and he followed twosteps behind.

Anya, the ballerina,bowed and curtsied as flowers landed at her feet from the throngs ofadoring attendees. As she turned to leave the stage, her dark eyeslit up in delight, and she was immediately transformed from the mostelegant prima ballerina imaginable to a delighted child at seeing herfavorite uncle. She flew into his arms, crushing the roses betweenthem. When the embrace finally ended, he placed his niece back on theground and turned to his date. “May I introduce your namesake, AnyaVolkovna. The former assassin took the ballerina’s dainty hands inhers, and they kissed cheeks. “Ty byl velikolepen!”

Young Anya blushed atthe compliment and spoke in Russian. “You are too kind. Thank you,Ms. Anya. I see that my uncle has, once again, adorned his arm withthe most beautiful woman in the city.”

Anya corrected thedancer. “Only possibly the second most beautiful as long as you arein the city.”

The reunion of uncleand niece continued as dozens of adoring girls begged for pictureswith young Anya.

The ballerina leanedclose to Anya’s ear. “Sometimes I pretend I do not speakEnglish.”

Anya whispered back,“Me, too.”

Back in the Bentley,Volkov’s smile could not be erased. “I so love seeing her dance.Isn’t she perfect?”

Anya laid her head onhis shoulder. “She is, and she obviously adores her uncle.”

He put his hand overhis heart. “And I love her. Since her father was killed, I see thatthe family has whatever they need. Even though the wall fell, Russiawill never be as comfortable as America for broken families.”

“I’m sorry to hearabout your brother, but you are so very kind to care for his family.”

“It isn’t kindness.It is responsibility. I fear I may have been the reason for hismurder.”

Anya gasped. “Howcould this be?”

“It’s a long andterrible story I won’t tell on a night like this. This is a nightonly for celebration.”

The driver pulled awayfrom the curb but circled into a private parking area near the backof the theater.

Anya asked, “Are wenot going to dinner?”

Volkov patted her arm.“Patience, my dear. We are most certainly having dinner, but wemust wait for the guest of honor.”

Almost before hefinished the line, an obscure door opened from the theater, and ateenaged girl with a bobbing ponytail ran from the door, directly tothe Bentley, and slid onto the front seat as if escaping the scene ofa crime.

In hurried Russian, thegirl spoke to the driver. “Go! Go! We must go before I amdiscovered.”

The heavy caraccelerated nearly as impressively as Anya’s Porsche, and soon,Lincoln Center was well in their wake.

Young Anya turned toVolkov. “Thank you, uncle. I so love New York, and especiallydinners with you. How lucky I am to dance for you and to have amagnificent dinner.”

Viktor laid his handacross the seat, cupping her tiny shoulder. “I’m the lucky one.Tonight, I have two beautiful dates for dinner, and both are Anya.”

Young Anya swooned.“Oh, uncle, stop it. Please tell me we are going to One if byLand.”

The girl turned toAnya. “Has he taken you there? It is the best restaurant in thewhole world.”

“He has not, but hepromised me tonight would be the first.”

Volkov rolled his eyes.“I see I’ve been handled by two beautiful women. If it is One ifby Land, Two if by Sea you want, then who am I to say no?”

Viktor reached acrossthe seat and tapped the driver, but the cell phone pressed to theman’s ear told him arrangements were already being made. The driverglanced into the mirror, meeting Volkov’s gaze. “A table for fourwill be waiting when we arrive, sir.”

The ballerina grinnedand mouthed, “YA lyublyu tebya.”

Volkov matched hergrin. “I love you, too, my niece.”

The promised table wasnot only available but also the best in the house. It was quiet,secluded, and perfectly lit. The maître d’ held chairs for Anyathe elder as well as Anya the junior and took Viktor’s overcoat.

When the waitermaterialized tableside, Volkov said, “Three vodkas to begin.”

The waiter immediatelyturned his attention to the ballerina, and Volkov snapped his fingersabove the table and demanded, “Me. Look at me! Three vodkas.”

He motioned with theback of his hand for the waiter to go, and obediently, he did.Moments later, three tasting cordials arrived on the table, two infront of Volkov and one before the only Anya at the table who couldrip the soul from anyone in the room with nothing more than thebutter knife beside the bread plate. Without hesitation, Volkov slidthe stemmed cordial to the only Anya who could pirouette down astaircase, and glasses were raised.

In unison, the threecheered, “Zdorov'ye” and emptied the petite glasses.

Conversation flowed, asdid the wine. When they were on dessert, Volkov shot his cuff,revealing his Rolex, and checked the time.

Anya’s dark,beautiful eyes fell. “Oh, uncle. Please do not say I must return tothe company. I