Chapter 16
NATALIA
The hum of a Bugatti motor drifts up to the loft on the breeze. A minute later, it’s followed by the unmistakable click of stilettos on the fire escape and the tap of lacquered red nails at the windowpane.
Vera. Thank goodness. All day, I’ve been fixated on my conversation with Leks, going over it in my head and wondering if there’s something wrong with me.
Finally, I can talk to someone who will know the answer. I pull open the window.
Vera drops lightly into the kitchen and pulls me into a one-armed hug that sends a wash of expensive perfume over me.
Tonight’s outfit is wine-red vinyl pants that hug her slim hips, with a mesh crop top that flashes her pierced navel.
Intricate silver chains of body-jewelry jangle all over her torso.
On anyone else, it would be tacky, but Vera makes it look like a runway style.
“Courtesy of the club’s latest billionaire patron.” She cradles the solid gold bottle of Armand de Brignac champagne like a baby.
“What are we celebrating?”
“Hmm. Unexpected friendships.” Vera unwraps the foil and pops the cork with one practiced flick. “And, of course, hot billionaire patrons who give tips running into the six digits.”
She takes a swig straight from the bottle, before passing it to me.
I do the same, the fizz hitting my mouth in a rush. It’s just what I need after a day where even the thought of Leks makes my cheeks feel like they’re burning with fever.
We lie on the couch and pass the bottle back and forth while Vera tells me about this billionaire from Chicago, who was in his fifties but still in good shape.
“Nothing crazy. He just wants a good old-fashioned sugar baby. They don’t make ‘em like that anymore,” she sighs wistfully. “He barely even kissed me.”
I can’t even imagine doing what Vera does.
One man is confusing enough for me, let alone having to handle a series of clients and their insane demands.
She told me about one man who wanted her to insult him about the size of his penis.
Another wanted to touch himself while she blew cigarette smoke in his face.
Meanwhile, I can barely even work up the courage to ask Leks to kiss me.
“His name was Tar, isn’t that hot? Head of the Chicago Bratva.”
I gasp with shock, which makes the champagne bubbles rush up my nose.
“Not Taras Romanov?!” I splutter.
I know that name from the serious, dry background work my father made me do to prepare for my next wedding. The Romanovs are similar to my family in their facade of respectability — Taras is a reputable chief executive, known in the business world just as well as he is in the Bratva.
My marriage to his eldest son, Anton, would have been a hit in the society pages of the tabloids. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that even men like Taras have their secrets. His son certainly did.
“He was supposed to be my father-in-law. You know, if—”
“If Leks hadn’t swooped in to save the day?”
I frown at her misinterpretation of events and take another sip of champagne before she grabs the bottle back. “I didn’t need his help. I would’ve found something to stop that wedding.”
Vera tuts her tongue skeptically. “I don’t know, hon. You’re smart, but Anton Romanov was a tricky one. Leks had me go to the girls at the club to find out if anyone had any dirt, but we had nothing. And we always have something.”
I make a face. I don’t want to owe Leks anything or feel grateful for what he did. He’s trapped me, just like Anton would have. All because of my last name. Sometimes, I forget that, because his physical presence is so distracting.
“I’m glad I didn’t have to marry Anton. I just wish I hadn’t had to marry, full stop.”
Vera makes an offended face, bringing a hand to her chest. “Take that back! You know, we would never have met if you hadn’t married Leks.”
“I know. I like being out in the real world. I just wish I had normal options in my life.”
“I know Leks can be scary.” Her voice softens. “But in terms of Bratva men, he’s hardly the the worst of the bunch. And based on the way he talks about you…I don’t think he’s capable of hurting a hair on that pretty head.”
“What do you mean?”
Vera relaxes back against the couch and her face spreads into a wicked grin. “I mean that man is so far gone that he’s like a whole different person.”
My face flushes as I remember last night. There is such a contrast between the violent, unpredictable man that Yuri and the men see…and the man whose caress was so delicate it made me shiver. Who stopped the second I got too embarrassed for him to continue.
I blow out a breath and Vera looks at me with curiosity.
“I do think you might be right about him being attracted to me.”
Her face lights up like I’ve just told her she’s won the lottery. I guess, when money is as easy to come by as it seems to be for Vera, gossip is the next best currency.
“Oh, do tell.” She props her head on her hands and flutters her eyelashes at me. She’s so melodramatic sometimes. “What makes you say that?”
I nod my head, scared that I’m about to embarrass myself. Vera might be a friend, but our gossip sessions have proven that she has access to a whole network of whispers within the Bratva.
I swear her to secrecy, not quite believing her promise. But I’ve had some champagne, and I have no one else to tell. I need someone who can help me interpret the confusing mess that was my nighttime encounter with Leks.
I blame the champagne for the way that the details start spilling out of me. By the time I get to the part where I thought Leks was going to kiss me, Vera has propped herself up on her elbows, the champagne sitting forgotten on the floor.
She bites her lip. “He didn’t kiss you?”
I shake my head. He did not kiss me.
He offered to take my virginity in a way that made heat pound through my veins. He said it like it was an inevitability, a matter of when rather than if. But he did not close the inches between us and kiss me the way I wanted him to.
“We haven’t kissed since the wedding.”
Vera’s mouth falls open a little. I feel a little bit proud that after all her crazy stories, she’s truly hooked about my uneventful encounters with Leks.
“And do you want to?”
I give a nod. “Really bad. I want to really bad,” I admit. “It’s not normal, is it?”
She shakes her head. “Not for your average guy, Natalia. But for Leks? Maybe it is.”
I have to know.
“Have you kissed him?”
“Oh, honey… I told you that wasn’t anything. I meant it. If we kissed, I doubt either of us remember it. Like, at all.”
I take another swig of the champagne as I explain the rest of last night’s conversation. Vera’s glossy purple lips fall open.
“He was so… surprised. I feel like there’s something wrong with me.”
“You’ve seriously never orgasmed?”
I shake my head, my face flushing.
“Oh my fucking God. You’re so innocent, Natalia. No wonder you’re driving him absolutely crazy.”
Vera doesn’t say it like it’s a bad thing. I honestly think nothing I could say would shock her.
“He asked me so many questions. I felt like a zoo animal. It was… excruciating.”
I struggle to find the words to explain it to Vera. How I wanted something more than what had happened, but I felt so frozen at the same time.
She raises her pencilled eyebrows. “Excruciating in a bad way? Or excruciating in an ‘Oh no, my husband is obsessed with me’ way?”
My face flames. “He’s not obsessed with me. He’s just… I don’t know, amazed that our lives have been so different. Curious, I guess.”
“Curious about your virginity. Mhmm.”
Then she narrows her eyes and stands up, offering me a hand with businesslike efficiency. “I know what we need to do.” She arches an eyebrow at me. “You draw, right? You have art supplies somewhere?”
I nod, confused, and lead Vera into the studio which I have begrudgingly started using. I don’t want to admit that Leks was right… but there’s something freeing about being able to make my own art after so many years analyzing the details of other artists’ work.
Vera grabs a sketchpad and a charcoal pencil.
“Welcome to sex education, Natalia.”
And then she draws a diagram to make sure I know exactly what I’m doing.