Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
It’s ridiculous, really.
“No,” I tell my mother. “He’s good to me. I think you’re wrong about them.”
I hear Viktor say something in the background, but I can’t make it out. “I have to go now,” my mother says. “Call me again next week. I’m working on a plan to see you.”
“You are?” I can’t decide if that makes me happy or not. “Maxim said you could come here, and he’d protect you.”
“I’d be crazy to trust him,” my mother answers. “No, don’t tell him you spoke with me.”
“Okay, I won’t.”
“Promise me. It could mean my life.”
Another wash of fear runs down the front of me. “I promise.”
“I love you, daughter mine.”
“I love you, too, Mama.” I hang up, fighting the urge to burst into tears.
My mother is wrong.
She’s wrong about all of it.
She has to be.
Chapter 17
Maxim
There are three things I adore about my new wife.
I love the sex. Da, that had to be first because nothing moves me like watching her surrender. Watching the walls and barriers between us crash down in a torrent of hot, brutal passion.
I also love the show. I love when she gets dolled up and turns her natural female magnetism way up. She’s not afraid to talk to anyone. She loves to be the life of the party. She’s the type people might call “too much,” but I love every bit of it. In the week she’s been here, she’s already won over my roommates—even Lucy, and the two of them have very little in common, other than being female. She’s won over the soldiers in the building—the doormen and guards. She’s made friends with the baristas at the coffee shop on the corner. She knows how to work a room.
Most of all, though, I love when she shows me what’s really beneath it all. When she fell apart over acting. When we get real about her father. She’s proud as hell, so I figure if she’s showing me her weaknesses, it means something.
That she’s mine in more than body and last name.
It still isn’t all the time. She’s mercurial. At times, I find her reserved and cagey—especially after I leave her alone for too long, but hopefully with time, she’ll learn to trust that my attention won’t be withdrawn the way her father’s was.
Tonight she’s all about the show. After our talk last week about theatre, she found a play to attend tonight. She’s dolled up in a gorgeous open-backed blue designer dress, looking far more Hollywood star than her usual nightclub diva look. All the guys whistle when we emerge from the bedroom suite, and she tosses her red hair like a model on a runway.
“Where are you two headed?” Lucy asks from her stool at the breakfast counter. She’s eating beef and potato perogies—her constant pregnancy craving.
“The Chicago Temple of Music and Art,” Sasha answers. “Chicago Stage is doing Cabaret.”
“Ooh, that will be good,” Lucy says.
“That’s a strip club, right?” Nikolai asks with mock innocence.
Sasha flips him the bird, and Dima chuckles.
“Are you taking the Lambo?” Pavel asks. “Or does Money Bags not let you drive?”
“The car was my gift to her, and it’s my pleasure to let her drive,” I answer smoothly.
Sasha beams. “You spoil me.”
She drives to the theatre, and I direct her to the valet. When we get out, I slip a fifty in the guy’s hand and tell him to take good care of it. He stumbles over himself thanking us and making promises.
Sasha rolls her eyes. “Man club.”
“No. It’s not because I’m a man.” I show her the wad of fifties in my pocket. “It’s a trick Ravil taught me—he read it in an old article in Esquire Magazine. It’s called Twenty Dollar Millionaire. The theory was that you don’t have to be rich to get respect or treated like a millionaire, you just need to grease palms. Flashing a twenty dollar bill will get you most anything. But with inflation, I figure it’s fifties or hundreds now.”
“I don’t think that would work the same for a woman.”
“Money gets you everything, caxapok, especially with the right attitude. And you have plenty of both. Don’t play small when you could be so very big.” I pull out a blank check I brought along and show her.
“What’s that?”
“It’s for the theatre company—if you wanted to get some attention with a donation. Make them remember your name.”
I hand it to her, and she tucks it in her purse. I wouldn’t say I’m a theatre guy. Yeah, okay, this is probably my first time—ever—seeing a live performance, but I enjoy it. I enjoy even more having Sasha on my arm turning heads. I enjoy her total absorption in the performance—the gasps and exclamations. Her standing ovation when it’s over.
“That ending,” she exclaims. “So powerful.”
We hang back in the lobby. I know what I would do to make things happen for Sasha, but it’s up to her.