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Still alive.

Still ignored.

But it was moments like now that I actually lived for.

On rare occasions, Slavik would demand my presence at parties, social gatherings, and the necessary dinner at a restaurant.

The latter was always the hardest. They tended to be the two of us. He’d look the part but spend the entire time either talking on his cell phone or to a guard. I’d sit and have to listen to his tones of Russian.

I’d thought about starting to learn, but so far, I hadn’t pushed my luck. Now these occasions, where we sat for dinner with a group of people, I could get through them. Slavik sat beside me, ordered my dinner, and complimented me. Played the role, saying all the right things. For a short time, I could pretend this was normal.

At least at this dinner party, there were other women. Three of whom I sat close to. They were talking about their latest designer gowns. I had no idea who I wore but they seemed to.

I nodded and smiled, laughed at the right points, and even told a few jokes. Sofia, Irina, and Amanda were all beautiful women. They were destined to be married to three of the other brigadiers under Ivan Volkov’s rule. I wasn’t sure who they were going to marry, but by the rocks on their fingers, it was a pretty big deal.

“You know, I was thinking we could all do lunch,” I said.

In the last four months, other than being with Slavik, I spent most of my time indoors, unless he ordered me to shop.

It would be nice to make some friends in his world.

No one called me from mine. No distant friends or cousins. Even my sister didn’t have time for me.

I smiled as the women agreed.

Feeling the need to use the bathroom, I excused myself, feeling happier than I had in a long time. This dinner could be the turning point, where I finally found some people. The bathroom was divided into two sections. One was lit, and the other was in darkness. For some odd reason, I decided to go to the opposite side, shrouded in darkness. I used the toilet, flushed, and was washing my hands when I heard the giggling.

“Can you believe her?”

I recognized Amanda’s voice. I stepped back into the toilet stall. Who were they talking about?

“My face hurts from smiling so much,” Sofia said.

“Tell me about it. If Slavik wasn’t here, I would have been able to ignore her. Do you know what they call her?” Irina asked.

“No, what?” Sofia and Amanda asked.

“The fat Italian. Honestly. People feel sorry for Slavik. I don’t know how he puts up with her. He could do so much better. I know my dad tried to get me thrown at him, but Volkov decided the Fredo girl was more important.” The jealousy in Irina’s voice was clear to hear.

So, where I thought I’d made a connection with these women, it was all an act.

“Did you see the dress?” Amanda asked. “She looked like a cow. All Slavik has to do is say the word, and I’d do anything for him. I heard on her wedding night, Slavik had to cut himself because he couldn’t find her pussy through the layers of fat.”

It went on and on. Between them using the bathroom, washing their hands, and applying makeup, they continued to insult me. Once they left, I stepped out of the stall. It wasn’t the first time this had happened.

I stared at my reflection. My hair had been curled by the male hairstylist Slavik had hired. He’d wanted to cut my hair, but I refused, and so he curled it.

Tonight … I thought I looked pretty. I guessed I was wrong.

Tears shimmered in my eyes as I looked at my reflection, and my smile wobbled. “What did you expect?” I took a deep breath, calming down my nerves, and finally, the tears faded.

Time to go and play a role.

I stepped out of the bathroom and took my seat back at the table. My hand shook as I reached for the glass of water.

Amanda, Sofia, and Irina were back at the table, and I kept my gaze forward.

Slavik’s hand brushed mine. I turned toward him as I jerked my hand away from him. My entire body shook.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

He didn’t need to know that another hope and dream had just been dashed. My pity party was my own.

My heart raced and I sat back. I ignored the women at my side and stared across the table. Ivan stared right back at me. I didn’t know what to do, and so I looked down at where a slice of chocolate cake waited for me.

It looked delicious with the dark frosting and the moist cake, but I felt sick.

“I ordered dessert for you,” Slavik said.


Tags: Sam Crescent Volkov Bratva Crime