Exposure (18 page)

“
W
hat was that all about
?” I asked Asher when we got back into the limousine.

He shrugged. “Mistaken identity, I guess. They say that everybody in this world has a twin. I guess that my twin’s name is Alexei.”

I sat back, about to say that it was an incredible coincidence that this so-called “twin” of Asher’s had a brother named Anton as well. But then I bit my tongue. Asher was staring out the window and his hand was shaking. He looked like he was about to lose it, so I decided just to lay low for awhile.

I took his hand, and he gripped it tightly. He smiled weakly. “Weird, huh? Has that ever happened to you, where somebody mistakes you for somebody else?”

“No,” I said. “But I have heard it happening to other people. A guy that I went out with went to Vegas one time, and everybody there kept calling him Dr. Smith or something like that. Turns out he looked almost exactly like a local doctor who frequented these places.”

I then wanted to address his reaction when he saw this woman. How he muttered “shit, of all places,” and clearly looked down at the ground and tried to hurry me out of there as she approached. His reaction belied his contention that this was all a case of mistaken identity.

“Asher,” I said, taking a deep breath. I didn’t want to approach this. I didn’t want to ask him about this. But I felt that I had to. The entire incident back there at the cemetery was weird, but there was an explanation for it. An explanation that I knew that I didn’t want to know, yet had to. “Would you please tell me the truth about that woman? About what she said to you?”

Asher shook his head, and then said the one thing that I never, ever wanted to hear out of his mouth.

“I think that we need to take a break.”

A
break
? A break? I swallowed hard, and tried to look at him, but he refused to meet my eyes. He was looking out the window, his visibly shaking hand on the armrest of the car door.

I finally just tugged on his shirt sleeve desperately. “A break. Asher, what do you mean?”

He looked at me, his blue eyes filled with pain and fear. “CJ, I don’t think that I can hide who I am from you anymore. I’m so sorry.”

My heart sank down to my shoes. I started to feel a sense of absolute desperation bubbling up. A feeling that was comparable to the feeling I got when Nathaniel disappeared. “I don’t care, Asher, please. I don’t care.” And I didn’t. He could tell me that he was Ted Bundy reincarnated, and I didn’t care. I was so in love with him. He had saved me in so many ways. I was out of the house and getting back into life, and the world, because of him. And he had awakened something in me, sexually, that I never thought possible.

He pushed me away and he shook his head. “I can’t lie to you anymore, CJ. Don’t you see? That woman has put doubt into your mind. I can see that. And I know what you’re going to do. You’re going to go home and do some digging, and then you’re going to find out who I am and what I have done, and then there will be no way that you can ever stay with me after that.” He looked out the window. “I can’t believe that I ever thought that this would work between us. I guess I was living in this fantasy that you might never find out about my past.”

“Asher, I don’t care about your past. Whatever is in your past is gone. I care about who you are now.”

“CJ, don’t be naïve. Who I was then is who I am now. I might have billions of dollars, but I’m the same person as I was then.”

Then he got very quiet. He made his hands into a kind of temple, and just stared at them. There were very clearly tears in his eyes. “Just trust me, CJ, you’re better off without me. I love you, but you’re too fragile to be with somebody as complicated as me. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have ever carried this so far.”

My breathing came faster and faster and faster. “Asher, you can’t do this. You just can’t do this. I don’t care who you are, I only care how you make me feel. I need you, Asher. I crave you. When I’m not with you, I think about you all the time. I think about you all the time even when I am with you. Please don’t do this. Please Asher.”

He just sat there, quietly, looking out the window. His hands were now on his lap. He made no move to put his arm around me or hold my hand or anything.

He finally took a deep breath. “Come home with me. Come home, and let’s get a drink, and then I’ll tell you everything.” And then he took a long pause. I realized that I was holding my breath, waiting for him to say something.

Which he did. “I’ll tell you everything, and then, I’m sorry, CJ. But I’m going to have to say goodbye to you.”

I
sat
there in the limo, trying hard to imagine that he didn’t mean what he was saying. He would change his mind about us saying goodbye. He was going to change his mind. He had to.

The ride to his place was interminable. So many thoughts were going through my brain at the rate of a fleeting comet. What was so horrible about his past? Did he really want us to break up? Could I convince him that I just didn’t care about his past? Could I convince him that I couldn’t live without him?

On and on and on my mind wandered. I was feeling sick and queasy, and there were times when I wanted to tell the limo driver to pull over so that I could puke. But I held it in.

For his part, he was still just staring out the window, his body language very closed off. I thought about all the other limo rides, where we ravaged one another, and I just wanted to burst into tears.

We finally got to his place, and we solemnly made our way up to his apartment. On the elevator, we stood three feet apart.

It felt like we were oceans apart, though.

I walked in, and stood in his living room, awkwardly. He went to his bar and poured us both a drink, and then motioned me to the couch. “Sit down,” he said.

I obeyed as I took the drink from his hand and sat down.

He took a swig, and then got up to get the rest of the Scotch, which was in a crystal decanter. He sat back down and sat the crystal decanter on the coffee table in front of us.

I sat there, silently, sipping my Scotch and trying hard not to throw up. I willed my hands to stop shaking, but they still trembled wildly. I tried to fight back the tears and the questions. I just wanted to let him talk.

It seemed like forever that the two of us sat in silence. He poured another drink for himself and one for me, and then two more for himself.

Finally, he started to talk.

“My brother, Anton,” he began, “he was murdered, as you know. But I don’t think that you know the whole story about that.”

I nodded and said nothing. I just stared at him. His eyes didn’t meet mine, and he continued to stare off into space while he guzzled his scotch.

“He was running with the Russian mafyia. He was what was called a ‘six,’ which is on the lower rung of the mafyia structure. He did surveillance for them and ran errands and things like that.”

I held my breath. “The Russian mafyia. Here in America? In New York City?” I knew that the mafyia influence in New York City was strong, so it wouldn’t surprise me if Asher and his family did live in one of the lower east side tenements when he was growing up.

He shook his head. “I grew up in a town called Pargolovo. It would be considered to be, in American terms, a suburb of St. Petersburg, Russia.” He took a deep breath. “My name was Alexei Pushkin.”

“Okay,” I said, trying to absorb all that he was saying to me. “Your brother was in the mob.” I paused. “What does that have to do with you?” I wanted to ask him why he changed his name, too, but the words escaped me. I felt that he was only ready to tell me a little bit at a time.

“He got deeper and deeper into it. But running surveillance was not the safest position in the world. The sixes in the mafyia structure were the most disposable, just because they were the lowest on the rung. He was murdered when he was caught spying on a rival gang.” He sucked in a breath and ran one hand through his mane of thick, dark hair.

I sat quietly, waiting for him to say more. But I couldn’t help but hear Sophie’s voice in my ears. About how Asher was dangerous and that when I found out all there was to find out about him, I would feel as if a nuclear bomb had exploded.

I was already feeling like that. Like a nuclear bomb had exploded.

There were no survivors.

“I can’t tell you much more. If I did, it would put you into danger.” He paused. “But I will tell you this. When Anton was killed, I was recruited. I was fourteen. I took over this position as a six for a number of years. When I turned sixteen, I was given more responsibility.”

I held my breath, waiting for more.

“I didn’t know my father, although he apparently knew me. Anton knew him before I did, but he never shared this information with me. It turns out that Anton first got involved with this group because my father was the head of it. He was the
Pakhan
of this group.”

“Pakhan?”
I said. “What is that?”

“The more familiar term to Americans is ‘Godfather.’ My father was the Godfather of this group. He ran it like I run my current business. It was no different than any other organization, really, except that it dealt with illegal businesses. Illegal drugs, sex trafficking and cyber crime.”

“How did you get recruited? Why did you go?”

He took another deep breath. “I guess that my father really wanted me in the organization after Anton was killed. So, he sent one of his Brigadiers, who was a guy in charge of small groups of men, to try to persuade me to join. I resisted, so then came the pressure. A guy appeared at my door and told me that if I refused to join the group that my mother and my sister would both be killed in front of me.”

I tried hard not to gasp. This was becoming surreal, really, finding all of this out.

“What did you do in this group?”

“I can’t tell you that. I’ve already told you too much as it is.”

I shook my head. “Did you kill people? Were you involved in the prostitution and all of that? What did you do for this organization?”

“I’m not telling you,” he said. “Drop it.”

I got quiet for a few minutes. I didn’t really know what to say. What do you say to something like this? “But you’re out of it now, though. Aren’t you?”

He sighed. “Yes and no. My father actually let me get out of the business when turned 18. He wanted me to go straight, so he paid my way through Harvard and Stanford for my bachelor’s degree and my PhD.” Then he got quiet. “And that’s all that I can really tell you, CJ. You now know the broad outlines on why it’s probably best that you and I stop seeing each other.”

My breath started coming harder and faster. “Alexei Pushkin. How did you change your name?”

He sighed. “Okay, I’ll tell you that one thing, and then, I’m so sorry, CJ, but you’re going to have to go and leave me alone. I was able to change my name because, well, if you have enough power and money, you can do anything you want. Including changing your name so that you can get a fresh start in a new country.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Asher Sloane was the name I chose. It was sufficiently WASPy so that nobody would suspect what was really going on.”

“And Sophie. She knows about all of this. How did she find out?”

His shoulders slumped. “She knew me in Russia. She was my girlfriend over there. I didn’t tell her much about what was going on, but she figured out enough. She still doesn’t know all the details of what I did, but she knows enough to really do some damage to me and my reputation.”

I nodded my head. That actually made sense that Sophie was also in Russia with Asher. “Is Sophie actually her name?”

He nodded. “Yes. Actually, it was Sofia, but she started going by the name Sophie when she got here in America.”

“How did she get into America?” I asked. I didn’t know much about immigration laws, but knew enough to know that it wasn’t all that easy just to come over here and become a citizen. I figured that Asher had some strings pulled, and I imagined that some money changed hands to get him his citizenship. But he had a powerful father who could pull these kinds of strings. I wondered if Sophie had the same kind of familial influence as Asher apparently did.

“She had some strings pulled,” he said. “Her history over there is not for me to tell people.”

He now seemed agitated. “God, I hate this. I hate doing this. But, CJ, you’re better off without me and my baggage. You’re a wonderful person, but you’re fragile. I’m so sorry for this. I know that us breaking up isn’t exactly going to help your mental state, but, really, it’s for your own good.”

I shook my head. “I don’t understand. Everything seemed okay until that lady recognized you in the cemetery. Now you’re saying that there’s no way that we can be together? If you felt that there was a way for us to be together before, then what changed?”

He took a deep breath. “What changed was that the lady at the cemetery put doubt into your mind. I knew when she recognized me and she called me by my proper name, Alexei, that it would only be a matter of time until you found out what was going on with me.”

“Oh, I see. I see. You thought that maybe, just maybe, I would never find out about all of this? So, you would have been fine with us going along, as long as I was kept in the dark?”

He got quiet for a long time.

“Yes,” he finally said. “Yes, I would have been okay if you were kept in the dark. I wouldn’t feel as if your being around me would put you into danger if you had no idea what my background was. And now, well, you will be in danger if you stay around me. Because you’re going to keep asking me question after question after question. Questions that I simply cannot answer. If I did answer your inevitable questions, then you would really be in danger. If I didn’t answer them, then, well, it would only be a matter of time until the relationship fell apart. Because you deserve answers.”

“Ok,” I said. “And if I had no clue on what was going on?”

“Then you wouldn’t be asking questions,” he said. “It’s really as simple as that.”

“Asher, please. I won’t ask you any questions. I’ll be perfectly happy just going on like we were. I won’t ask you anything that you can’t tell me. I’ll just pretend like I never knew any of this.”

“That’s not realistic,” he said. “It will always be the elephant in the room, from now on.”

I started to feel panic welling up in my throat. This couldn’t be it. It couldn’t be. He was right – I
was
fragile. I was just taking baby steps towards being normal, and now this. I wondered if I was going to have a full relapse.

“Asher, please. Please don’t do this.”

“CJ, it’s for the best. Really.” He sighed, and tears came to his eyes. “I’m so sorry, CJ. I really am deeply in love with you. I wish that everything was different. That I was just a normal guy. But I’m not. I’m really screwed up.”

“But Asher, please. You’re not in the Mafyia anymore. You’re a straight-up business man who is very legitimate,” I said. But, even as I said that, I wondered. I wondered if there was money that was being funneled out of his organization into his Mafyia group. That would be the ultimate way of laundering money. His business was so successful, there was probably a lot of that money being used to help out his old group in Russia.

That was what he was talking about, no doubt. I would start asking questions about his organization and whether or not some of the profits from the business are being used to fund the dirty businesses of his father’s.

As it was, I had to bite my tongue. I wanted, so much, to ask the questions that he was so terrified that I was going to ask.

And I suddenly saw his point.

And, just as suddenly, I was angry. Very angry.

“Asher,” I said, feeling my ire building up. “Why would you do this to me? I mean, getting involved with me in the first place? You knew what had happened to me. You’ve known that all along. So, you have always known that I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Yet, you strung me along. Made me become deeply attached to you. And now you pull the rug out from under me. That’s cruel, Asher, really cruel.”

He looked crushed. His blue eyes were filled with sorrow and tears. “I know,” he said, hanging his head. “I know. I shouldn’t have gone there with you. You certainly don’t need to have your emotions jerked around. I guess, in my defense, I…”

“I know, I know,” I said. “You thought that you could just keep on lying to me about who you were, and I wouldn’t ever find out. And we’d be married and have three kids, and I would be kept in the dark the entire time. Like in that movie,
A History of Violence.
” That was a movie that I saw where an average guy who owned a drug store, or something, had a past as a mobster. His wife didn’t know it, of course, until the bad guys came looking for him, and the jig was up.

I supposed that, in Asher’s world, I could be like the wife in that movie. Happily going along until the bad guys show up.

Asher didn’t say anything.

“Yes,” he finally said. “That was my unrealistic thought.”

“Oh, god, I don’t believe this,” I said. “I just don’t believe this. What kind of life would that have been? You would always be looking over your shoulder, worried that some woman might pop up and blow your cover. What would have happened if we had a life together? A real life together? And I found out after we had a family and all of that? Did you ever stop to consider that?”

Asher said nothing, but just hung his head.

I shook my head. “Okay, I don’t believe that this is happening. I don’t believe it. The funny thing is, I can almost forgive you for breaking up with me over this. I know that you’re trying to protect me. What I can’t forgive is you getting involved with me in the first place, knowing that this moment would be inevitable.”

“I know,” he said. “That was the worst thing, really. The worst thing that I did was to fall in love with you. Because I made you fall in love with me. And, you’re right. Since my realistic brain told me that things couldn’t work between us in the long run, I probably shouldn’t have ever started up with you at all.”

I started to feel like I couldn’t breathe.

Ironically enough, I felt that I had to leave. Usually, when I had the feeling of not being able to breathe, my solution was to go indoors.

Now, I felt that I had to get outside. Away from Asher. Away from his lies. Far away from him.

“Goodbye, Asher,” I said, as I went out his door.

“Wait, let me call you a cab,” he said, but it was too late.

I was already on the elevator and heading down towards the street.

And out of his life.