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“Okay.” I take the paper from her and put it inside my coat pocket.
Dante’s envelope sits tucked inside a hole I cut into the lining.
“Please write me and tell me where you are when you get there.”
“I’ll try.” I kiss her on the forehead again, knowing how I’ll miss her sweet, innocent smell. “I turned off the camera in my room.” I check the time again. “Get out of here and do something in your room to make it seem like you’ve been there the whole time. Do your stretching with that classical music you love.” I wink at her. “I’ll miss you, mladshaya sestra.”
“I’ll miss you, too.” My poor little sister looks ready to cry.
But I know Yulia, Papa’s housekeeper, will protect her.
Papa has no use for Katya since she’s illegitimate.
When she graduates, she’ll move far, far from Astoria.
CHAPTER FOUR
Anastasia
Iduck out the window and shimmy down a set of metal stairs from the balcony outside Papa’s media room.
With the front gate unmanned, I slip through without detection. A few blocks away, I hail a cab.
“JFK, please.” I shove on my sunglasses, hoping they disguise me.
The promised snow falls and picks up intensity. I worry I’ll miss the flight that Dante booked for me and pray he’s not at the gate waiting for his blow job.
When I reach the airport, Dante is nowhere to be seen.
With a swell of relief, I collect my boarding pass and board my flight to Las Vegas.
Swearing under my breath at the cramped middle seat, I squeeze in.
Really? Dante couldn’t at least book me a first-class ticket? I’m saving his life!
No, I’m seated in-between two besties who talk over my head.
But after takeoff and a few drinks, I soften and relax enough to chat with them.
I introduce myself as Ana, the name on my fake ID, and that I’m headed on a solo getaway after a bad breakup.
They’re going to a bachelorette party.
What a life!
I never would have been able to fly off to Vegas for my bachelorette party. But I don’t want to get married.
With my long, blonde hair, perfect makeup, and sleek, polished nails, I look like a posh, party girl and not a scam artist.
And the girls are extremely sympathetic to my faux breakup.
I’m not surprised when they invite me to stay in their Airbnb since one girl couldn’t make it. I had planned to get a cheap hotel room and pay cash, but this is too good to be true.
Sometimes it’s about being in the right place at the right time. I hope my luck continues.
With the plane’s dramatic takeoff, however, a sinking feeling settles into my stomach. Am I making a huge mistake? Will I live the rest of my life on the run?
Maybe I’ll give it a few weeks and then call home. Bargain with Papa for my freedom in exchange for my return.
