Chapter 5

Naturally, we weren’t there, but all this was relayed to us later by our family and the police. I’m putting it together, best I can, as they said it happened.

The house phone rang. Ivan answered it. “Casper residence.”

“Yeah, right. Listen, little man. I have Gregor and the American and your Nana. You tell your mother and your auntie Anya I want ten million, American, quickly, or your Nana dies, along with her boy toy and her bodyguard. I’ll get instructions to you.”

“We haven’t done anything to you. Why are you doing this? I want you to bring my Nana back. We’ve done nothing!”

“You haven’t? No? Really? How about if someone snapped your brother’s neck, you little shit? Huh? How would you like that? Fucking worthless little bastard. No police. We’ll know.” Click.

Ivan wrote down the entire conversation, word for word, from memory. Photographic memory. Including the train, a slow one, and the airplane, small, propeller type, in the background.

He ran to the study to tell his mother and Auntie Anya. He read to them what he had written. Ivanya, through her tears, hugged him to calm him. It was Anya who had to calm them both. Ivanya was a wreck, and Ivan was feeding off of that. Anya called a friend at the police department. She told her it was most probably a family member and she’d explain when she got there.

Ivanya was devastated. She put two and two together as well. Rikard Gasst. Frederic’s brother. They hadn’t seen that side of the family for twelve years.

When the police came, the friend of Anya’s, a detective, spoke to Anya, greeted her, then took Ivan into the kitchen and looked down the paper he wrote. “What is my full name, Ivan.”

“Detective Stepanov, Detective. All I got was the last name, I did not hear your first name.”

“You did not hear her call me Malia?” the detective asked.

“Or Mylashka or Myla? Yes, Miss, I did, but I did not think those were your names. My Auntie is a very loving woman, detective, and it would not surprise me to have an old girlfriend from school she would call baby or cutie. She sometimes calls me kotyk, even though I am a boy, and often Nana’s little man, but that does not mean that I am little for my age, or a man, for that matter.”

“I’ll take you at your word then, Ivan. Sign your name, first and last, at the bottom of that paper. You are a wonder, little man. A wonder.”

“Thank you. Please look for Rikard Gasst, detective. He is behind this. I will bet my education on it. Only he would know the one thing said, and one of fourteen that would know the others. Three are his father, mother, and sister, he would be one. Seven of those are in this house right now. The other three have been kidnapped. His father was my mother’s uncle. My grandfather killed his brother while that brother, Frederic Gasst, was raping my mother and wound up making me. He is behind this, ma’am. Rikard Gasst. Please don’t forget the plane, a small piston single engine aircraft and a slow-moving freight train. He is near the private airport by the freight yard northwest of the city. I think.”

The detective shook her head and went to talk to Anya. She made a call on her phone and told the dispatcher not to release it over the radio, but to call the patrols in and start the search after each had gotten some instructions directly. They were probably listening over the radio.

No sign of us was found until the day when things sort of fell apart for everyone.

The previous evening, we were tied to chairs, just like in the movies. Gregor was out like a light all night long and woke early in the morning. Svetlana and I were awake and could see the sun coming through the windows in the roof of the building. Gregor finally woke up, and just like in the movies, he was a groggy mess, drugged up pretty badly, but had a thing in his belt. It took him two hours to get to it. He finally cut through one of the cable ties on his wrist, and carefully, so as not to make any noise, cut the other, keeping a very close eye on the doors and hallways. It was a warehouse of some sort, and we were in the office area, not in the middle of the warehouse area, like some might have in the movies.

He got himself undone, then started working on me. He heard a noise, handed me the little blade and pulled a little LCP looking gun, a Baikal PSM, out of his sock. They took his Vektor pistol and found his Makarov in a holster in the small of his back, but not the little thing in his sock.

The door opened and when the guy saw Gregor up on his feet, he shot, hitting our friend in the side. Gregor got a shot off and put one through the guy’s forehead. He was an excellent shot, even with a little peashooter like that. I got myself cut loose, got Gregor’s gun and went to Svetlana to start cutting her loose. She tore my shirt off of me, a cotton button up, and started working on Gregor. Patched and wrapping his belt and some twine she found around his middle, she thought she had the bleeding stopped. Two holes. One bullet. Good news. I handed her the gun for a minute and pulled him to the wall behind a desk and waited. She was taking care of him, and I sat, aimed at the door, waiting. First one, then the other, came through; I got one in the shoulder and the other in the neck. Both left, I heard stumbling, and a moan, then a racket like a bowling ball on the stairs. I could only hope. Svetlana got on the phone and called their police, telling them what was happening, then had me get a phone on the next desk and call the house.

That was the fun part. Marta and Lena’s English teacher had been sent a note to bring to the house. It gave instructions on how to get ten million bucks into a couple of boxes and drop it off out in the country. It was quite an elaborate scheme, but Gregor Yovich ruined their day.

Detective Mylashka Stepanov was handed the phone by Anya. Svetlana and she ripped off an entire conversation in Ukrainian, then she talked to Anya for a bit, and before the phone was hung up, we could hear sirens.

Ivan told me later, she turned to him when she handed the phone to Anya so she could speak to Svetlana, “Everyone is going to be fine, Ivan. Your Gregor was wounded badly, but all should be OK. Ivan, my name really is Mylashka. My father has a sense of humor. I am his cutie, he always says. Your Auntie Anya calls me Malia because we were girlfriends in school. Don’t tell your uncle. He doesn’t like me. He was always afraid I would take her from him.”

“Myla, my uncle is no longer in the picture. But I don’t think the guy on the other end of the phone will let her go very easy. They love each other quite a bit. You’ll see. My new Grandpapa, Charlie, is a cool guy.”

“I’m sure he is. Your Auntie Anya thinks so, anyway. I will meet him soon, I am sure.”

We were taken to the hospital, Svetlana and I checked out and released, and Gregor was held for a couple of days to make sure he started mending properly. His wound looked horrible, and bled like crazy, but we found out he was on blood thinners. The bullet went in the front and out the back, only about an inch deep into his side, missing anything important except muscle. It went between his ribs, brushing one, but not damaging it badly. It felt broken, but it was hardly touched. He wouldn’t be able to pick anything up for a while, though. Gwen wouldn’t leave his side for the entire time, and then waited on him hand and foot seemingly forever when we got him home.

Rikard was the one that got hit in the shoulder. His buddy fell down the stairs and got beat up pretty badly, but he didn’t die. We found later that they’d had a conversation with his cousin Willem, and figured if Willem was pissed off at me, what the hell, he’d just see what he could pull off. He claimed Willem wasn’t involved, but I wasn’t buying it. Hey, Willem didn’t trust me, why should I go out of my way, right?

A week after the kidnapping, Willem stopped by the house to see his wife and talk about the divorce and the papers, but Anya wasn’t ready for that and went to her room. When Willem saw Gregor walking stiffly, being assisted by a frail little woman half Gregor’s size, he thought he’d get a bit forceful and push his way around.

I interceded. Gregor laughed.

“Willem, Anya does not want to see you. You have the number to her legal team. I suggest you use it,” I told him.

“Shut up, Yankee dog. This has nothing to do with you. She is my wife and she will do what I tell her. I will recommend you stay out of my way or I’ll wind up beating you both.” He walked toward the hallway that led back to the bedrooms. Gwen left Gregor’s side and quickly stepped in front of Willem.

“Mr. Gasst? Is that right? You would be Willem Gasst, oldest son of Svetlana and the famous Ivan Karloff? How interesting.” Willem stopped and looked at her. He was the center of attention! That was all I needed. Gwen was a treasure, distracting him just long enough. I just walked up behind him, touched his shoulder and swept his leg as he turned, popping his knee. Gregor laughed.

“Willem, Gregor had specific instructions not to hurt you. They knew better than to tell me that.”

He reached for his gun, but I caught his wrist, snapping it, and he shot himself in the hip.

“Bad boy. Pistols are illegal in Ukraine, Willem. What is a loan officer at a bank doing with a pistol in his mother’s house, anyway? Did you come to shoot the Yankee dog, Willem? MARTA! BABY! Call the police and an ambulance. My stepson is an idiot and has injured himself.”

Gregor laughed. It must have hurt when he did, because the laughter was through a wince.

By that time Svetlana had come in and had seen what was going on. She’d already formed an opinion and started yelling at me. Ivan forcefully pulled her into the study with Ivanya and Gregor right behind. Gwen followed when the ambulance crew had Willem on the gurney and the police had the gun. I met Detective Cutie that Ivan told me about. Anya had good taste in women. They were afraid the cases might be related, so Detective Mylashka Stepanov came with the response. Anya left me with Marta and Lena and took her old cutie into the study following the rest of the family. Yuliya and Alina were in school or something, so they didn’t have to worry about the madness at home. I doubt they would have wanted to see their father being a bully. A bully with a gun.

It was twenty minutes later when she came out, the powerful woman, the doctor, the millionaire in her own right, and the figurehead of the Gasst and Karloff fortunes and businesses. This wasn’t that woman. This woman was shy, withdrawn, apologetic, and maybe even a touch afraid. Everyone left the study with her, walking behind her, following her as she approached me. When she took my hand and pulled me to our bedroom, Marta followed. I was extremely relieved.

Once in the room, Marta knew the protocol. “Miss, is there anything I can do for you or Sir before you tell me to leave you alone?”

“Yes. Get us each a drink of Charlie’s sweet honey whiskey. With ice, please, Marta.”

“Yes, Miss, right away.” Marta scampered out.

“Lana, are you mad at me?”

“I was, until Ivan told me what happened. I thought you had shot my son.”

I smiled. “I kind of did, but he really shot himself. I never held the gun.”

“Do you love me, Charlie?”

“More than life itself, Lana. I’ve been telling you that for over a year now.”

“It must be hard when people are kidnapping you, pulling guns, and trying to take your girlfriends.”

“She loves and respects you too much, Lana. Anya would not have gone with him. He had a gun. I had to stop him. I think he might have harmed Anya when she rejected him.”

“You knew he was under arms? That he had a gun with him?”

“Yes. So did Gregor. It is easy to see when a man is carrying a weapon. They walk differently. They even talk differently. It’s a psychological phenomenon. If you know and have seen someone without, you can tell when they are with.”

Marta returned with our drinks. Svetlana told her to please sit next to me and to please remain silent. Each of us sipped, Marta taking a sip of mine.

“Then instead of being the savage brute I convinced myself you were, in that very short time, without really thinking it through, you were actually the hero. I need to talk to myself about that. I am sorry for doubting you. I do not know how to compensate you for that. I do not think that will happen again, though. Gregor and Ivan have both told me to do so could be to my demise.”

“I will never, ever, hurt you on purpose. I guarantee you that with my life. In fact, I will go out of my way not to and use my own life to prevent it.”

“Like you did today. Good. Please accept my deepest and sincerest possible apology.”

“Accepted. Marta, please hold my wife and help put her into a nap. It’s been a really, really shitty day. Thank you, baby doll.”

“Yes, Sir. Miss?” I left them, knowing that Svetlana would do nothing except what I wanted for quite some time. Today, I really just wanted her to nap. It was a very trying afternoon, and she needed rest. One thing I knew, though, I wanted my wife back. I loved this meek, apologetic thing but she was not my wife. I also wanted a drink. I had left my drink with Marta. She later told me they talked a bit, sipped a bit, and fell asleep in each other’s arms, just as I had asked.

We had a visitor the next morning, it was a Friday, leaving Alina and Yuliya out of class for the morning. They walked into the study, the three of them, Nana’s babies and Violetta Romany, the gorgeous redhead from the party. She asked me how I was doing and naturally, macho man that I am, told her a lie.

“I’m fine, Violet. How about you?”

“I will be honest. I am fine if not thinking about Alina and Yuliya. I am liking them much. You are the family to them, so I worry about you and Missus Casper as well. I hear of the kidnap, and Gregor get shot, then I hear of their father here and shot. I want to know my girlfriends’ family is safe and ask if I can help.”

“Thank you. That is a generous offer. Have you met their father?” She nodded. “You can go beat him up for me. I don’t think their Nana wants me to do it.”

Violetta Romany broke out with the cutest laugh. She really was a doll.

“You are a pretty girl, Violet. You take care of our babies, OK?”

“Yes, sir, I will do that, sir. Thank you for let me talk to you.”

“Anytime, good lookin’. Anytime.” She smiled and the girls walked out with her, back to their room.

It was kind of funny asking her to take care of Alina and Yuliya. She was a bit shorter, a bit slighter, and way more feminine than either of them.

Svetlana asked me how it went. It was a setup.

“How would you like to take them to Ibiza for a graduation present, Charlie? All three of them.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes. Marta, Gregor, Violet, the babies, and us. Lena wants to stay with Ivan, and Anya and Ivanya said they will wait for later since you’ll be so busy.” She giggled.

“You are bound and determined to put me with that beautiful trans girl, aren’t you?”

“Not just me, honey love. It is a much larger conspiracy than that.”

“Well, I have a few months to dig a hole and crawl in and bury myself then, huh?”

Instead of being there for me, consoling my misery, helping me with my problem, or even fixing what ailed me, she just nodded and told me she loved me.

“Someday, love, you will understand the methods to my madness as was said. Until then, just know you and I have the same values for each other. I will never hurt you, and I will insure you never spend a lonely day in your life.”

I pulled her to me and decided to do the math. Two plus two equals four. She was surrounding me with people who have decided to love me. People who are lovable, and feel that she, I, and this family are what they need for their future. I couldn’t fault that. I had no idea how to count my blessings, though, as this part of it wasn’t addition, it was exponential growth. My two plus two was more like two hundred and fifty-six or so with my wife calling the shots, not just four.

I made a decision at that point in my life. The same one I made the day before and the day before that. I’d take the world on for another day and try to live through what life threw at me. It had been throwing me home run pitches for a long time. Let’s see what tomorrow brings, I told myself. Let’s just see.

Willem was charged with having a handgun, pled guilty before a magistrate and lost his ability to apply for a permit to have a handgun. He was pretty influential, still, even though he was still going through the learning process at different phases of their company holdings.

At present he was a loan officer at one of their more prestigious banks, close to becoming a director of that department when his training was deemed adequate by his handlers. He would be in that position for two years, then move out of banking into a different arena. Manufacturing was supposedly next, I think Svetlana told me when we discussed his issues with Anya; his philandering and his hatred of the Yankee dog. It was something his grandfather had set up for him to make sure he would be prepared to stand with his mother, father, and sister, and any other blood relatives to run the organization.

He was the highest paid loan officer in the world, most probably, unless some other rich old man had his family set up the same way. He had money out the wazoo, but he didn’t have a certain pretty wife anymore. I’m not gloating, just stating facts. You can’t fix stupid, to quote one of history’s most famous philosophers, Ron White.

Ivanya went to law school instead, opting for a more steady employ with the family business, but unsure that she really wanted to help run it. She had provided the male heir for the next generation. She had help, yes, and it was painful and devastating to the family, in its entirety, but Ivan was healthy, and brilliant, and a Gasst, and that was something.

The life of Charlie Casper was interesting, educational, and extremely happy. We made several trips back to our house in the states, where Marta now referred to as home, staying for weeks at a time. I did have a company to run, after all. Marta was always with me, at a minimum, and Svetlana was pulling back in her duties at the clinic and the hospital, taking as many of the short trips as possible. Anya generally traveled with me as well, unless the girls needed her for something, or she had a hearing or such for the divorce. Willem was fighting it. He was just wasting money, but he wouldn’t listen.

The decision was made to keep both homes and for the family members to choose their citizenship based on their desires and what we could work out with the American government at the time something was needed. Svetlana opted for a work visa, green card status, if you will, as did Ivanya, at least for now. They both had responsibilities back in Odessa above and beyond their day jobs. Anya asked for help becoming naturalized and wanting US citizenship, as did her daughters. Again, I was told there was a reason. ‘Not two plus two plus two, Charlie,’ I told myself, but two TIMES two TIMES two and so on. It was clear as mud at that point, but the dirt was starting to settle.

I had to fly back home just after the babies, who were twenty and twenty-one at that point, graduated with their initial university degrees. Violetta Romany graduated with them. Go figure. Actually, I’m pretty sure I knew that was going to happen, as we were all headed to Ibiza in a couple of weeks.

They still considered teaching but had postponed their graduate work for a year. I got curious one evening while we were sitting on the back deck, watching over a vast area of grasses and trees, a most relaxing view, having two good sized Canadians in me. Two fingers in each of two rocks glasses with a bit of ice in each. I was sitting at the table, with Yuliya in my lap, Violet next to me on one side, Marta on the other, wrapped around my arm, and Alina sitting across from me. I was watching their mother swim. Anya was a beautiful woman, and her swimming naked in my pool did nothing to dissuade me of that opinion.

I got curious and asked about ages. Yuliya, it seems, was pretty bright and was boosted a year after primary school, so she and her sister were in the same grade level. I asked Violet, who pinked a bit and admitted to being twenty-two but had been set back a year between the fifth and sixth grade due to her transition, a couple of minor surgeries, and a chance to settle emotionally into her new existence. When she entered the sixth grade, she told us, she was not a boy in a girl’s body, wearing a dress, but a girl in a skirt, and rockin’ it.

She laughed, then giggled, then went a bit somber. “I am all natural, Mr. Casper...” I interrupted her. I meant to earlier but was distracted.

“Violet, please. We’re going to be spending a lot of time around each other for a while. Please call me Charlie. Just Charlie, for now.”

“OK. I will, Charlie. Yes, that is good. Charlie. I am all natural, Charlie. I have had minor things done to make me more feminine, but I will not do other things. I will never give the birth, so I do not need the vagina. I have never had a man, so none of that matters anyway. I just want to be a girl and live like a girl and to be honest, kiss a girl. Yuliya has shown me I can love and be loved, and Alina assures me I do not need a man to be a happy person. They say you are frosting, but they were happy with the cake of each other before Charlie.”

“I can understand that. Not being gay myself, I haven’t witnessed that firsthand, but I have been with my girls and watched them together, both in and out of the bedroom, and can see how that would be true. So, you are a lesbian?”

“I do not know. I have never been with a man. Someday, maybe I will know. Until then, I am just Violetta, the girl.”

“Violetta, the horny girl. She is an insatiable flirt, Charlie, and as beautiful as any woman I have ever seen. Come, girls. I want to swim with Momma.” Anya was floating at that point, breasts, pubis, and thighs breaking the water, just breathing gently and calmly. Naked as the day she was born. She liked the smooth look and was lasered from the neck down, like Svetlana and Ivanya were. Come to think of it, I think Nana’s babies were as well. Marta had a little patch now but asked me if she could have it removed forever. I kissed her clit when she asked but I told her it was hers to do with what she wanted. I wouldn’t miss it, though, I told her, if she just had to have an answer. I’m pretty sure she’d have it done one day. Lena was letting Ivan make that decision, so she wouldn’t know for a few years yet. Until then, the tightly shaved patch was all she had. Unless she had her sister wax her. That was noisy, let me tell you, and not the least bit erotic until about fifteen minutes afterwards. Then, running my tongue through the crease of her thighs was an experience of great sensual magnitude.

The girls all went inside, leaving Marta with me. She climbed into my lap. “I miss Miss.”

“I do, too, baby doll, but we’ll go back in a week or maybe less, depending on work, and get her and take these ruffians to Ibiza, OK?” She nodded and lay back on my chest. She was wearing a little bikini and was just as sweet and cute as she had ever been.

When Alina led the other two back out, they had towels wrapped around themselves and were wearing high heeled sandals, I’m sure it was to see if it affected me. Marta giggled and moved her bottom back and forth on my firming dick. It did. I got a kiss from each of them, first Alina, then Yuliya, then Violet approached me, gingerly.

“May I?”

“Do you want to?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Do you answer every question with a question?”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“There you go again.” I chuckled and reached up for her cheeks. “Yes, I want you to. Do you want to?”

“Very badly, Charlie, and have for many months now. I have permission, Charlie, I just did not have the nerves.”

I pulled her face to mine and kissed her, holding her there, licking her lips. She put her hands on my shoulders to steady herself. I could feel her tremble. Marta put her hand behind Violet’s neck, and when our kiss ended, Marta pulled Violet to her and kissed her as well. That was not a friendly kiss. That was my concubine inviting a beautiful woman into my life. That was when I knew for certain permission had been given and Svetlana wanted me to experience my oldest and greatest fantasy.

“She trembled with the emotion of your kiss, Sir.”

“I know, pumpkin. Same as you do. Scary, huh?” She nodded.

The three amigettes stood at the edge of the pool, casting a shadow and thankfully getting Anya’s attention. If they hadn’t, they may have drowned the poor woman. They took their towels off, turned toward me, then one at a time, threw them at me, kicked their heels off, and jumped in. Naturally, Alina was first, and Violet was last. She was pink as pink can be when she jumped in, but she showed me her entire front, feet slightly apart, then turned and bent a bit, showing me the rest, then jumped in.

“That little girl is fucking fantastically beautiful.”

“I know, huh?”

I had said it out loud, unintentionally, and my Marta concurred, probably under the same pretense.

Watching her dry a half hour later was no different. Marta stared. I cupped her vulva in my hand and could feel the heat and the dampness immediately.

“She’s beautiful, Daddy.”

“She is that, precious.” I held on tight and adjusted my grip. What she was feeling from me and watching of Violet caused her to orgasm right there in my hand. She moaned and buried her face in my neck.

After dinner, we sat for a movie and popcorn. Anya’s girls snuggled up to her on the love seat, and Marta and Violet snuggled to me on the couch. It was a good movie, having several parts that were a bit, if not just outright, steamy. Marta was subconsciously rubbing my leg during one of them, which was normal for her. She generally rubbed a little farther over on the second or third sexy scene, trying to tease me to come in my pants.

What I didn’t expect was for the little redhead to subconsciously do it on the other thigh. Her hands were small and soft, and the way she was dragging her fingernails excited me to no end. I was afraid to say anything, and I was afraid not to. If either of them had touched my cock just then, I would have had to change boxers. I opted for silence. The second scene, several minutes later, raised someone’s awareness. Marta looked over at Violet’s hand, seeing her rubbing my thigh, laid her own hand on my half hard member. I looked down at her, meeting her looking up at me and kissed her. She squeezed. I hunched up a bit. Violet noticed and looked at Marta. Marta reached with her other hand and pulled Violet to her by the neck for a kiss. As Violet leaned, her hand moved and was now on Marta’s hand manipulating my erection. Marta put her hand at the top while she took the bottom.

Marta broke off her kiss, licking Violet’s nose and pulling her face over for me. The second of my Violet kisses caused my demise. At least the demise of my current erection. During the kiss, I sucked her tongue into my mouth. She moaned and squeezed the top half of my hardon and rubbed the wet tip with her thumb through the cotton of my boxers. Marta felt the movement, caressed the lower half and I just lost it. I spurted against Violet’s thumb, dribbling my semen onto my lower abdomen, pulsing in the girls’ hands and sighing.

I opened my eyes and looked at her. We kissed again, a romantic, long, loving, wet, tongue filled kiss. She pulled my tongue into her mouth and sucked on it, causing a couple more spasms and pulses of my semen to fall. When it ended, she lay her head on my chest and cried. I held her. Marta held her. Anya and her girls watched as we held her.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

She trembled. “Nothing. Not one thing is wrong.” She raised her voice a bit. “Yuliya, I’m not lesbian.”

Everyone in the room laughed. Even her. I stopped pretty quickly, though. I needed another one of those kisses.

She spent the night snuggled to me in bed with Yuliya behind her. Marta was on the other side, Anya and Alina were snuggled next to us.

We found ourselves alone in the morning, her sprawled all over me, arm across my chest, breasts pushed into my ribs, her knee on my soft dick, and her little sprout against my hip. She was beautiful even sleeping all awry, legs and arms akimbo.

I just watched her sleep for a while, drinking in her attractive features. When I saw an eye flutter, I kissed her forehead.

“Good morning, precious angel. How are you this morning?”

“Better than my whole life? Does that make sense?”

“If you are happy with a strange man holding you to him, admiring your beauty, about ready to yell for my concubine to bring us coffee, yes, it makes lots of sense.”

“I am.”

“MARTA! I LOVE YOU!”

“And I love you, Sir. Violet, baby, how do you like your coffee?”

“One cream and two sugar.”

Marta nodded, kissed me while holding my cheek, held Violet’s with the other hand, and kissed her before she left.