Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
But it all comes tumbling back again. The hyenas are waiting outside the door.
As I pull away, adjusting my trousers, Lara sits up and drops her feet to the floor. I watch her bend to pick up her dress with hands that are shaking slightly. She meets my gaze and her lips stretch into a small smile, but there’s something in her eyes, a sadness that wasn’t there before.
She doesn't say anything as she pulls on her dress. I zip her up in silence. The room feels thick with unspoken tension, the weight of what just happened pressing down on both of us. I feel a pang of guilt and want to reach out to her, to tell her what is going on, but the words stick in my throat. Before I can find the words, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I can’t ignore it.
“I have to go,” I tell her.
She nods but doesn’t move.
At the door, I pause for a moment, glancing back at her. "Aren’t you coming?"
"No, Ivan," she says softly. "You go ahead. I’ll come in a minute."
Chapter Forty-Four
LARA
Ireally don’t know why I’m upset. What else was I expecting? That he would suddenly confide in me, spill all his problems like we’re equals in this, like we share more than just passion?
The door clicks shut behind him. Once his footsteps die outside, silence fills the room. The air feels suddenly too suffocating and warm and I feel the need to escape, to breathe. My hands move towards my hair, smoothing it down, but my mind is elsewhere, stuck on the hollowness of our exchange.
Why do I feel this way? Hurt and disappointed. I wanted more than just his body, even though I should know better. After all, this is what I signed up for, right?
Shaking my head, I push those thoughts away and leave the summerhouse. I walk back to the house and see that everyone is still on the terrace. Many lamps have been lit, there is music, and from where I am it looks like everyone is having fun and enjoying themselves. Instead, I grab a glass of wine from the counter, needing something to distract me. I walk towards a waiter holding a tray of champagne flutes. It makes me long for some alcohol.
“May I have a glass?” I ask, making a drinking gesture with my hand.
“Of course,” he says in English.
I walk to the edge of the terrace and hidden away from everyone by a laurel bush, sit on the stone steps to enjoy my drink. I take a sip of the bursting bubbles and gaze out into the gorgeous night sky.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice asks suddenly.
Startled, I glance up and find Natalia looking down on me.
My throat tightens, and I nearly choke on my drink, but I manage to compose myself just in time. She’s watching me, her eyes sharp but unreadable. I’ve been avoiding her penetrating gaze all evening. And now, here she is, standing over me, wanting to engage in conversation.
“I’m not trying to pry,” she says, her voice smooth, detached, “but I can’t help but wonder why Ivan brought you here. Are you both serious about each other?” She pauses, her eyes scanning me as if I’m something she’s trying to figure out.
Her words hang in the air between us, and for a second, I don’t know how to respond. I stare at her, wondering why there is no love in Ivan’s family. Why deos he seem so distant from the people who should be supporting him in this difficult time?
“I’m just the girl of the moment,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant, though the words taste bitter in my mouth.
Natalia looks at me, her expression unreadable. She takes a sip of her wine. “He must really like you to bring you here. I’ve never met any of his women before, though he’s had many.”
I drain my glass. “I can assure you, it’s not serious. We’re just having fun.”
Natalia watches me for a moment longer, as if she doesn’t believe me, then, with a faint shrug, she turns and walks away.
I glance back at the party, taking in the scene—the magical lighting, the music, the servants bearing trays of more drinks, the carefree laughter from the elegantly dressed people. And I feel a new worry. Something is eating away at Ivan, something far bigger than he usually deals with, and none of his family know about. It saddens me because I don’t know what it is. And it depresses me that I might not ever really know him.
A voice behind me interrupts my dismal thoughts, and I turn to see Nikolai approaching.
“I’m sorry for putting you on the spot earlier,” he apologizes, leaning against the stone balustrade. “Ivan has a way of making everyone’s intentions seem... untrustworthy.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I dismiss. I feel a bit more at ease with Nikolai than I do with anyone else here. He’s charming, yes, but there’s a sincerity in him that draws me to him.