Chapter 10 Constance
CHAPTER TEN
CONSTANCE
“SET AND GAME!” I slap the table, cackling as I snatch the cards from under his hand.
“BAH!” Grandpa Viktor waves me off, sipping something dark that smells like danger.
“YOU BEEN RENIGGIN’ SINCE THE FIRST ROUND AND EVERYBODY IS SCARED TO SAY IT!”
“YOU LIE BECAUSE YOU ARE SORE LOSER!”
“SORE LOSER?!” I nearly flip the damn table.
“I’m beating your ass, old man!” I sneer, eyes on fire as the rest of the family is crowded around the table like it’s a championship game.
Money being passed back and forth, drinks clinking, laughter bubbling loudly through the room.
I can’t lie, I ain’t never felt so chill with a bunch of literal rich ass people in my life.
“THEN PUT YOUR MONEY DOWN THEN!” I shout.
“I VOULD, BUT YOU CHEAT!” Viktor says, deadpan. “NO HONOR. NO SHAME.”
“CHEAT? SIR!” I holler, slamming down my card like it’s a weapon. “RUN THAT!”
“VHAT? YOU SHAMELESS VOMAN!”! The whole table goes wild.
“Who needs shame when I got money?!” I cackle, thinking about how I’m about to be racking in rubles.
There’s even a few deeds, and someone tossed a diamond chain in the betting pile.
“YOU CAN’T SEE ME! YO—” As I’m about to go in for the kill, a screech cuts through the room and everyone goes silent.
We all turn in the direction of the stairs, and my jaw hits the floor.
Not Veronica out here stumbling down the grand staircase like a banshee, mascara streaked, naked as the day she was born, sobbing and stomping, looking pissed off.
“The fuck…?” I mutter, but everyone else just turns back to the table and starts placing bets, arguing about who’s going to pay in the next game. “Uhm… sh-shouldn’t we like… go check on her or something?” I turn to Grandpa Viktor, who just picks up his drink, not even blinking.
“People vho live longest mind zheir business,” he answers in turn and I pause before going back to stuffing my pockets with money.
“… You know what? You damn right! Let me mind my Black ass business,” I say and throw down my next card like divine judgment, and the table erupts.
“Bah! I vill beat you in ze next round!” Grandpa slaps his knee, sputtering.
“Nah, you gon’ beat this L, old man!” I holler, collecting my winnings like the greedy lil gremlin I am.
“You’ve got to teach us how you play like zhat. Vhat’s it called? Aces?” someone behind me asks and I throw my head back in laughter.
“Spades,” I answer, popping a bottle open.
“The more the merrier,” and I give a little jig, showing them how to really cut a deck, my fingers dancing over the cards like I’ve been hustling since birth.
The table crowds closer, hungry for the secret, laughter ricocheting off the walls and drowning out any awkwardness left lingering from Veronica’s dramatic entrance.
We play until our voices are hoarse and the pile of loot in the center looks more like a dragon’s hoard than a card game. Until I can’t take another shot, or slam my hand down on the table… I’m mother fucking tired.
For a hot lil’ ol’ second, they have me scared, thinking I’m going to pass out before them, but thankfully Grandpa Viktor yawns dramatically and I light up. Is it what I think it is?
“I go to bed,” Grandpa Viktor announces after our sixth round of cards, standing up with a loud yawn and a louder back crack. Yasssssss! I’m free of these alcoholics and gambling addicts!
I stand so damn fast, ready to go to my room and sleep, going over to kiss Grandpa Viktor on the cheek.
“Good night, Grandpa Viktor,” I say sweetly, ready for him to take his old attractive ass to mother fucking bed! I need some Tylenol, some Law and Order SVU, and some damn sleep!
“Okay you guys, I’m going to call it a night, too!” I voice and Uncle Vlad looks up with puppy dog eyes, holding up a bottle.
“But you’ve barely had any,” he slurs, clearly drunk but I’m not surprised they are all functioning alcoholics apparently but seriously I’ve drank so much I want to gag at the sight of the bottle… Pyper wasn’t lying about them being able to drink… shit
“And I’d like to keep it that way.” I chuckle and they all laugh, but I’m serious how the fuck do they have working kidneys!
“G’night,” he says, finally walking off in his fur-trimmed slippers like a retired Bond villain as I happily gather up my rubles and winnings, ready for my down time when I see my best friend who I thought was asleep swoop in and snake her arm around me.
“Finally,” Pyper mumbles under her breath but not really under her breath, and I side eye the fuck out of her.
“What do you mean finally? Are you about to watch Law and Order with me?” I ask excited and she rolls her eyes.
“Let’s go.” She tugs me away from the table, damn near making me drop the deed to my new house.
“Wait, my house!” I catch it midair as she glances at it and snorts.
“Zhat old zhing… only five bedroom and six maids. Vit and tiny pond. Trash,” she dismisses it and my mouth drops open as I clutch the son of a bitch to my chest like it’s the bible.
“Excuse me! Trash?! This a whole ass mansion!” I exclaim, and she waves her hand.
“It’s pennies. Vee all get a few of zhem in our inheritance. Anyvay, come.” Pennies?! This bitch!
“Wait! But go where?” I blink, looking around… “And where is Alik?” I ask, still collecting my thoughts.
“Out, and… uhm… he is not feeling vell, so vee vill go vitout him. I need to shake ass, and party! Forget problems,” she mutters and I raise a brow.
“What kind of problems does a Russian billionaire heiress have?” I purse my lips. “And shouldn’t we go check on Alik?” I ask but she shakes her head.
“No, leave him. And I have a lot of problems because of my troublesome best friend. Now come.” She smiles with a glint in her eye. “I vant to dance,” I sigh, already knowing what that means. She must have gotten into with it with my brother.
“B-but I didn’t bring a dress to shake my ass in… well not really.” I think about the lingerie I wore for the red night event and she gives me a pointed look.
“Does zhat matter?” she frowns, and I sag, waving goodbye to my downtime.
“I guess it doesn’t,” I mutter as she drags me to the parlor, where some more of her girl cousins are getting dressed and having their makeup done like this is a wedding or some shit, while Pyper pulls me to the back and gets to ripping off my clothes.
“Damn, buy me a meal first!” I cover myself and she throws me a pointed look.
“Did you tell Mikhail zhat?” She makes a face and I purse my lips, shaking my head.
“You low-down, dirty bitch,” I snort, and she chuckles.
“Vhat? Vhen you go low, I go to ze depths of hell.”
“Ugh, I see.” I shrug on a dress that looks like it could pay off my entire student loan balance and still have enough left over to buy a duplex in Atlanta. I’ma keep this and pawn it later… teehee.
Next, she drops me into a chair and baby, the way the makeup artists’ hands fly over my face! In no time, I turn around and look at my face that’s beat for the gods! Makeup dark and fall chic, my lips red and plump, my eyes sparkle, and my body glowing with a sexy gold glimmer.
After examining myself, I walk out to where Pyper and her cousins are, and they all let out whistles.
“Now vee ready to cause problems.” She takes my arm and we walk out to where I thought I would see a fleet of cars, but no!
Bitch, there is a whole-ass party bus that looks like a corporate jet and a strip club had a baby!
It’s blacked out, taller than one of those tourist buses, and when the doors slide open, I step inside, shook at the clear wealth of these people.
Inside, there is white leather seating in a horseshoe layout, color-changing LED lights lining the ceiling, a full champagne bar with crystal flutes mounted into the wall, and two of Pyper’s cousins are already vibing out like they’re in a music video.
The music bass is loud, thumping through speakers built into the floor, and there’s a small pole in the middle, which someone is already swinging on… man, these mother fuckers are crazy.
“This is ridiculous,” I mutter, sliding into the cushy seat as Pyper shoves a chilled flute into my hand.
“Exactly.” Pyper flips her hair, tosses a shot back with her cousins, and the whole bus surges forward as lights flash and the bass drops. As the city blurs by outside the tinted windows, I watch them turn up, still mourning my SVU.
By the time the party bus glides to a stop in front of a sexy ass looking building, I’m Lil’ Boosie loose as a goose and showing my ass on the bus just as much as the rest of these crazy Russians.
We climb off the bus, and I’m impressed that the tinted windows of the bus didn’t do this place justice. The club itself is built like a palace, with vaulted ceilings, LEDs, and a sound system that vibrates under my skin from outside.
But I’m not the least bit surprised by the long line of people that we breeze by without so much as a “who are you with?”
No, there’s just a man in a tailored suit already waiting, earpiece in, nodding once before waving us through, guiding us into the club, where as soon as we step through, there are two women in gold dresses holding trays of drinks, offering more damn chilled flutes with glowing stir sticks.
We are guarded like royalty through the club, with big ass body guards that part the sea of people wide enough for them not to even touch us even if they have their arms stretched out, leading us to a slick staircase guarded by two very serious-looking men with earpieces and the same dead eyes I’ve seen on security detail at high-level events like these when I attend business meetings.
I know these mother fuckers shoot first and ask questions later, but when they spot Pyper, one of them opens a frosted-glass door with the word “Vedenie” etched in cursive across it.