Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
I whip around so fast strands of golden hair slap my face. “It is Ana.” I shove my pointer finger into his chest so firmly the acrylic coating them nearly snaps. That’s how hard his chest is—rigid and firm just like his cock. “And I got it because I thought we’d be together for eternity.” He balks like I physically slapped him when I add, “Biggest fraud ever.”
“Don’t be like that. We had some good years.”
With my bitch-o-meter off the charts, I snap out, “Months. And they were far and few between the crappy ones.”
I am a liar. I loved this man with everything I had. He was it for me. I didn’t take a single breath without him invading my thoughts.
Then he went and fucked everything up.
“Just go back to whatever drug shipment, prostitution, organ-trafficking meeting you came from and leave me the hell alone. I don’t need your help.”
“драгоценный—” My glare cuts him off, and for once tonight, I feel like the ball is finally in my court. “Ana…” He waits to ensure I understand we’ll never be on an even playing field before saying, “You don’t need this.” He waves his hand around the dressing room over thirty women are stuffed into. “I said you could come to me for help at any time.”
“I don’t want your help, Alek. I’m doing just fine on my own.” When his blue eyes dart to Ilya, who should be grateful Alek’s retaliation occurred with his fists this time around, I huff out an annoyed whine. “It pays the bills.”
My frustration catapults to an unmanageable level when he asks, “It’s him again, isn’t it? That’s why you’re back in town. To clean up his mess.”
“Leave my father out of this. My… career has nothing to do with him.”
He doesn’t believe me.
He never does, so I give him something to mull over.
“I was fifteen when we met and had already dropped out of school. This…” I wave my hand around as he did only moments ago. “… is all I can get.”
“Bullshit,” Alek retaliates. “You do this because it is easy, and god fucking forbid you’d actually have to work hard for something you want.”
I hit him with the stink eye to rival all stink eyes before snatching my eyeliner out of Brittani’s grasp, eliciting a pathetic pout before hotfooting it outside. I paid thirty dollars for that eyeliner, so I sure as hell am not leaving it with a woman who steals the other ‘dancers’ underwear so she can sell them online before deceiving them of their measly ten percent of the profits.
My anger takes a back seat when I bolt into the alleyway at the speed of a rocket. The young girl Alek was defending when I was summoned for my first private performance is standing at the end of the shady location, staring at a map in a foreign language.
Hardly any of the girls at The Penthouse speak English.
“This way,” I mutter in English to the frightened teen before looping my arm around her elbow and guiding her to the train station.
Alek flanks our brief walk but says nothing. I let him purely because it keeps the creeps’ hands off me long enough to purchase the redhead a ticket for a country bordering Russia before handing her a bottle of water from my bag. “They sell snacks on the train, but don’t drink anything they offer you. Even if it looks sealed doesn’t mean it hasn’t been tampered with.”
When she nods, I cup her cheek only long enough to soak up her tears before wishing her well. Then I shift my focus back to Alek. “Was this you?”
He tries to lie.
Even with us being separated for four years, I see straight through it.
“This is the exact reason I don’t need your help.”
“Ana—”
I stop him from following me by splaying my hand across his chest. I don’t speak. I don’t need to. The area my hand is pressed against expresses everything I need to say.
“Fine.” That was harder for him to say than the bitter coolness his tone alludes to. I felt the extra thump his heart produced before he forced out his one word. It was as loud as the warning sirens wailing in my head when it takes a mammoth effort for me to remove my hand from his chest. Our relationship was nonstop explosive for the entire three years. I didn’t think anything could top how dynamite it was until I lost more than myself to this man. “But at least let me pay for tonight.”
My smile is as fake as the bus company’s false signage of a guaranteed courteous driver when I reply, “Consider that one on the house for old time’s sake.”
Stealing his chance to reply, I stuff a handful of the crusty bills men shoved down the front of my shorts earlier tonight into the machine next to the sleazy-looking driver, then move toward the back of the bus.