Chapter 21 Constance #4
A physical blow lands in the pit of my stomach, pushing out all my breath. My whole body turns to ice water and in that sickening moment, Alik looks up. His eyes, which were sweeping the room, slam right into mine.
My heartbeat skyrockets as the blood drains from his face instantly.
It’s a terrifying sight. He goes from vibrant and strong to a chalk-white stranger.
His sharp, dark brown eyes flash half red before he shakes his head and looks up.
Those same eyes are wide, filled with a raw despair that makes my own heart twist.
The woman next to him must notice his state because she looks up and spots us. I can feel her eyes take in the group with a smile before her eyes land on me, and a scowl of disgust filters across her face. Her hand grips Alik tighter and possessively and… it hurts.
She tugs Alik forward and he moves like a zombie, eyes locked on me the whole way, a silent, desperate scream trapped behind his lips. They glide through the crowd and stop directly in front of me.
“Oh, look, darling!” the woman beside him murmurs, her voice smooth and melodic. Her eyes skip over me entirely, landing on Pyper and Misha. She smiles, a warm, genuine curve on her lips. “How are you?!”
“Helena,” Misha slightly inclines his head.
“Hi Helena,” Pyper smiles a bit more politely.
“Sister-in-law, who do you have here?” She turns her attention, keeping her arm held tightly through Alik’s, and turns her sapphire gaze onto me.
“Zhis is mine and Alik’s best friend, Constance,” Pyper introduces me and the woman looks me up and down, her smile dropping a bit.
“Best friend, huh?” she voices dryly, her voice faintly accented. “Hello, I’m Helena. Alik’s wife.”
The final word echoes, obliterating everything else.
I cut my eyes to Pyper and Alik who are now staring, speechless and horrified.
My heart is frantic, like a panicked bird trapped in my chest. I feel my eyes burn, but Misha hugs me tight from behind and lifts my head, abruptly swallowing my internal scream in a kiss so deep it shakes my reality.
“Zhis is nozhing,” he whispers and I pant as he places a hand on my chest to still it, and I somehow paste on the brightest smile on my face.
I might as well be in front of a billionaire client I’m trying to convince should hire me.
I lift my chin, and extend my hand, keeping it perfectly steady.
The pain is a sharp, clean incision, but I will not bleed here.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Helena,” I say, my voice light, utterly devoid of any true emotion. “I’m Connie.”
She gives me a brief, firm handshake. I feel the cool touch of her diamonds and step back. The distance I put between us is a chasm. I don’t look at Alik… or Pyper. I can’t. I just smile, polite and cold, waiting for this excruciating moment to pass.
“I’ve heard so much about you.” She keeps a flat expression, looking between Misha and I displeased, but I keep my smile, probably looking like a whole-ass villain when I came here to be a heroine.
“I hope what you heard were great things.” I cock my head to side because I have heard nothing about you…
“I wonder...” She sips her champagne and I cut my eyes to Alik and Pyper, who look like wounded dogs.
“I wonder as well. But please… I’m drawing a blank… when exactly did you and my best friend,” who just had had his face buried in my pussy. “Get married?” I ask, and she smiles smugly.
“This is going on the third year!” She grins, flashing the ring, and I feel like a horse kicked me in the heart.
“We had been engaged for a year prior to that. Right, hunny?” She wraps her arms around Alik’s shoulders before she kisses him, and I feel my heart beating so hard I start sweating.
My breath comes out rough and ragged, but Misha covers my eyes.
Wait… hold on… I do the math in my head… that was when we were dating… so he’s been married the entire time? Alik and I only broke up two years ago… and the realization causes my heart to stop beating in my chest.
And three years ago… was that… hold the fuck up! Was that around the time they had their family reunion? Alik had to leave for some time and Pyper followed soon after, both of them saying they had a long family reunion to attend and that’s why they couldn’t text me… was that Alik’s wedding?
My vision swims, and my body feels like it’s shaking so hard I feel like a coke bottle with a whole bag of mentos thrown in it. I feel sick to my stomach… disgusted… betrayed… hurt…
I open my mouth to say something, but a nothing comes out. Just an inaudible sound and a ragged breath. How could they do that to me?
“M-Misha… I… I c-c-can’t br-breathe,” I wheeze and clutch his jacket, gasping for air, and Misha growls.
“Alik… do somezhing or I vill…” Misha warns, voice booming and laced with malice, hand still covering my gaze.
“I… v-vill…” he croaks, and from the bottom of Misha’s hands, I see his feet shift. “Helena…”
“Oh it’s time to go already? Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Constance,” she purrs and I see them shuffle off before Misha lifts his hand from my face and I don’t see them at all.
“Pechenye, do you vant—” A clink of a glass at the front of the room draws all of our eyes and we turn to see Grandpa Viktor standing there near another man that looks like Veronica. Is that Veronica’s dad? He’s got to be…
“Let’s take our seats,” Grandpa Viktor states, but Misha ignores him.
“Vee can leave, sveet one… I—”
“No…” I shake my head because why would I leave? None of this will matter to me in a few days anyway… this is just… this is just drama and a crazy story to tell my friends when I get home. I gots to see it through, my boy… no matter how much I’m reeling and hurting.
I’m already here now… what the fuck is leaving going to do?
Misha looks me over and I see Pyper standing behind him. So are Nadya and Dimitri, who are waiting for me.
“I’m good.” I smile, doing my best to look unbothered because who the hell am I to feel hurt in this situation?
I’m a bitch who prides herself on being VERY self-aware, and right here right now… even though I’m not going to act like it’s all my fault, I still showed up pissing and shitting in high cotton and grand stepping at someone else’s engagement party with their man. What goes around comes around.
So I’ma take this on the chin, eat this L, look the fuck good, and smile while doing it. THEN I’ma beat Pyper and Alik ass…
Sighing, I grab a tray of champagnes, shocking the waiter, but before he can say anything, I knock back four glasses and nurse another in my hand… if I’m going to sit through this shit, I’ma have to be drunk doing it.
“Let’s go,” I huff placing my hand in Misha’s. He watches me as if trying to figure out whether he should make me leave or not. “I’m staying,” I tell him and he sighs.
“Vhatever you vant, Pechenye.” He kisses my head, leading me all the way to the very front of the room.
Every-fucking-body follows our every movement as we approach the table, where clearly only the two engaged couples and their immediate families are supposed to be sitting per the name cards … well, duh!
“I can go sit at—”
Misha cuts me off by wrapping his hand around my waist and setting me down on his lap, making me squeak, freezing, now in front of the whole room and bitch, I can feel a thousand pairs of eyes drilling into my forehead, but I only feel one pair that’s particularly harsh.
I glance at the seat next to Misha, where Vernonica is sitting, beet fucking red, fist curved around her wine glass, her lips are pressed into a thin, white line. Oh, how Plies say it? She big mad, huh…
Well, I don’t blame her at the fuck all… like, this is all kinds of dis- fucking-respectful. If this happened to Pyper, I don’t see how I wouldn’t have dragged the bitch up out of here and tag teamed and jumped the fuck out of her.
Even though we have only known each other for a small time, all this man has given me is dick and heartburn, and I know Misha is undoubtedly a fucking dog for doing it, BUT until I’m gone and can peace the fuck up out of here, he’s MY damn dog.
No one speaks, but Grandpa Viktor holds up his glass, and everyone else follows along. I think he’s about to do some grand speech, but he just huffs out in a cold tone I’ve never heard from him.
“To ze couples,” he states.
“To ze couples,” everyone repeats after him.
He takes a breath before he speaks. His voice is a low, powerful rumble, carrying easily over the muted crowd.
“Tonight,” he begins, his tone ringing with a grave authority. “Vee celebrate not just one couple… but two vho carry a great and vital promise to ze future of all zhat vee have built, all zhat vee cherish.”
He pauses, allowing the words to sink in. I watch as he slowly turns his head, scanning the guests, ensuring every single person hears his carefully chosen words.
“For many generations,” he continues, leaning slightly toward the microphone. “Our pazh has been… complicated. Zhere have been struggles and divisions. Zhere have been moments vhere it felt as if ze very soil of our legacy vas poisoned by internal strife, and ze burden of zhis curse!”
I feel a tremor run through the crowd, and Misha rubs the goosebumps on my arms.
“But nov,” he says, his voice rising, imbued with a fierce optimism that feels almost forced. “Vee look upon zhese young faces. Vee look upon zhese unions vho vill be visely bonded to strengzhen ze Bershov’s name and legacy.”
He looks directly at the couples, his eyes hardening.
“And vee say zhat tonight ze errors of ze past, ze cause of ze curse vhich has haunted our prosperity for too long… are finally, decisively, put to rest.”