AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Let’s get a bottle of wine for the table,” Elysse suggests.
“Great idea. Love it,” Tammy agrees, and as the server arrives to take our order, I glance toward Katie with a plea of help.
We already established ahead of time that she’ll make a practice of handing me water shots to mask my lack of drinking, but I hadn’t even thought about dinner. Her eyes shift down to her phone, and a second later, mine buzzes.
Just put your glass close to mine, and I’ll swap them out when I finish.
I don’t know what I would do without her.
Not that I don’t intend to tell Tammy or Elysse—or that I think they would judge me for being pregnant—but I haven’t even told Mishka yet, so until I figure out my plan, I need to keep it a secret.
Dinner is positively delicious, and the girls manage to carry the conversation well enough that no one seems to notice I’m on the quiet side tonight. But I can’t seem to get past Mishka’s presence behind me—and the massive chasm I feel growing between us from my inability to speak to him.
After a healthy round of desserts, we pay and pile back into the limo for our final destination.
“You can get us right in the door again, right, Alina?” Tammy asks, bouncing in her seat.
I laugh. “Honestly, I have no idea. But it’s worth a shot. What’s the point of being a Sakharov if I can’t even get priority in my dad’s club, right?”
As we pull up in front of the steps into Plastique, Mishka gets out first and stays by my elbow as I lead the charge toward the front door.
“Name?” the burly bouncer asks, the same one who greeted Viktor so familiarly last time.
“Alina Sakharov,” I state imperiously, tipping up my chin.
Recognition dawns on his face, and the bouncer’s hand immediately goes to the handle of the glass door. “Of course, Miss Sakharov. Forgive me for not recognizing… Welcome.”
We’re given a double-door entrance into the club one again, and music pours out to greet us. The dance floor thrums with energy, people occupying every inch of it as we make our way into the dark club.
Strobe lights flash, illuminating our path as we head to the VIP table held exclusively for our family.
“I’ll grab the first round of shots!” Katie offers as soon as we reach the table, and before anyone can respond, she makes a beeline for the bar.
“Let’s dance!” Tammy insists, grabbing Elysse’s hand and reaching for mine.
“I’ll make sure we get a bottle of champagne and meet you out there,” I offer with a smile.
Only after the girls vanish between the sweaty bodies moving in time with the music does Mishka lean close to whisper in my ear. A shiver ripples through me as his soft lips brush my earlobe, his warm breath washing across my skin. “You think you might consider not getting quite so wild tonight? For my sake?” he teases.
Smiling, I turn to level him with a fiery glare. “What, you don’t like fighting to defend my honor?” I prod right back. Then my heart flutters as I dare to tell him a small truth. “Don’t worry, I’ll only take water shots tonight,” I promise.
Mishka snorts, catching my playful tone.
Then Katie’s back, her hands overly full with brimming shots of clear liquid. “Help me with these!” she calls over the music. Then she shoves one shot into my right hand. “That’s yours,” she says casually before passing me a second one.
I glance nervously at Mishka from the corner of my eye, and he simply raises his eyebrow. With an apologetic smile, I follow Katie onto the dance floor. And to my delight, this time, Mishka joins us.
Tammy and Elysse welcome us with cheers, each plucking a shot from our hands.
“To Tammy!” Katie cries and raises her shot.
We do the same, downing them a moment later, and I’m grateful for the small splash of hydration. We pass off the small glasses to a busser making their rounds and fall into the rhythm of the song.
And though I yearn to lean toward Mishka, to wrap my arms around his neck and bring our bodies together, I resist. This is my father’s club, and plenty of his men frequent the space. Though I don’t see any familiar faces now, any number of them might come in and recognize us.
So instead, I have to be satisfied by dancing with my girls and casting Mishka occasional glances where he sways beside us. But always, his head is on a swivel, looking for any potential threats that might invade our tiny circle. He’s taking his role as our protection seriously, his eyes only lingering on me long enough to confirm that I’m still safe and present.
One song blends into the next, and sweat slicks my skin as we dance for hours.
