Victor Pchelkin

"Bandit's wife"—that label already belonged to her, guts and all. She was Pchyolkin's wife—the authority figure, the bandit, the one whose name resounded and was published throughout Moscow and St. Petersburg. He, the one everyone feared; and she, the one he feared. She, and only she, could influence him. She was his priority, not an option.

A long, floor-length mink coat; heeled boots that almost reach the knees, gold chains and rings with stones on his hands, black smoky eye makeup, and a leather bag—only the best for his "darling." More gifts that are considered apologies for his absences "on business trips." But she understands that he arranges these business trips for others. Into the woods to bury them.

"My little fish," "darling," "little one," "mouse"—these had become familiar nicknames for her. When he came into the apartment in a good mood after yet another scrape, or when he, with an irritated expression, held her close possessively, whispering these saccharine nicknames in her ear.

❤️‍🩹🧸

May 15th was one of the few happy days for Viktor—the birth of his daughter. Her Highness weighed three kilograms and one hundred grams. It was as if something in his life had changed—his chest tightened pleasantly after hearing one of the nurses on the phone say it was a girl. Now, Pchyolkin has two beloved women in his life—she and their child.

The ward smelled of plastic wrap, a hint of starch, and melancholy—Soviet melancholy, as one of the nurses put it, like, "Why give birth in such a difficult time? No food, nothing, honestly..." But for her, the wife of a gangster in a VIP ward, all they asked was how she was feeling and whether she was comfortable.

Pchyolkin, wearing a snow-white robe and blue shoe covers—as he imagined his life after these events would be—stands at the entrance to the ward. A smile involuntarily spreads across his lips when he sees her—worn out, tired, but loved and just as wonderful. His foot steps onto the tiles in the ward, trying not to disturb the peace. "My little one..." he whispers tenderly, sitting down next to her on the bed.