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“Nini,” I shrieked back, which had kind of been our signature greeting.
Nina was a trust-fund baby out of Russia—her father was apparently some kind of big-shot there—and she was a big reason why I joined the jet-setting group after graduation, but then turned my back on them after Italy.
Nina was lovely and humble—despite her coming from money, and we’d huddle together to battle homesickness and loneliness during our days in boarding school. She was a friend, but there were also invisible walls around her, hiding her secrets, which she never even shared with me.
“I’m so excited to see you.” Nina hugged me, and my eyes met Frank’s over her shoulder.
Frank looked tanned and relaxed. We’d had a short fling a couple of years ago, which we ended amicably, when it became clear he was more interested in men than women. However, he was the one who introduced me to the whole BDSM lifestyle and who took me to my first-ever sex party.
Frank claimed to be a switch, though whenever we were at a club, he turned fully submissive—not unlike me.
Frank opened his arms, and I walked right into them. I’d missed the crew. Missed my old life.
After Italy and the kidnapping, I became a hermit. I’d avoided meeting people, avoided going out, avoided the invitations and the questions.
“It’s so great to see you,” Frank said, but kept hugging me. “I was worried.”
I sighed, loosened up, and leaned against him. Frank was one of the good ones.
Safe.
“I was furious when I heard what happened.”
My stomach twisted into a tight knot.
Of course, he knew.
They knew.
Everyone knew.
It had probably been the talk of the week. Another thing I’d avoided by avoiding people.
But news traveled fast in the small world of Europe’s high society, especially when kidnapping was involved. “I’m good. It wasn’t so bad.”
That was the message I would run with and the truth I would take to the grave.
He grabbed my upper arms and held me at arm’s length. “Are you okay?”
The way he studied me, the worry in his eyes, I could see his sincerity and that he didn’t believe me.
I forced a smile on my face, a smile I wasn’t feeling.
Apart from Sophie and her family, nobody had looked or cared how I was really feeling.
Especially not my parents.
As soon as I was home, and they made sure I wasn’t bodily harmed—at least not visibly—it was business as usual. I was just a prop to my father. An asset to be used in a strategic alliance—if one came up. “I promise, I’m good.”
Frank smiled, hugged me again, then led me to the rest of the group.
There were a couple of old faces, a couple of people I had, at one point, regarded as friends, like Nina, who was dancing and flirting with a very attractive guy.
And a couple of completely new faces—like one tall, dark, and dangerous-looking guy who was across the dance-floor leaning against the guardrail, brooding, his eyes fixed on our little circle.
At first, I thought he stared at me, but after a while, I wasn’t sure anymore, so I decided to just ignore and avoid him at all costs.
The atmosphere was lighthearted, fun, and the alcohol was flowing. Soon, I was on my way to getting wasted. And it felt amazing—the old me—free from all the heaviness.
