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Ivan will open his eyes to the prize standing in front of him or… or I’ll get rid of him, too. I’ll get rid of everyone in my way.
The phone rings six times before there’s an answer. “You know I’m busy,” he snaps. “What do you need that is so—”
“Get rid of her.”
There’s a pause. “Who?”
“You know who,” I hiss. “Who the fuck else? I want her out of the picturenow.”
There’s a long pause. I sigh. Another man who doesn’t know what he needs. Do I have to do fuckingeverythingaround here?
“Francia, there are things in motion that can’t be rushed. We have to go through the proper channels and—”
“Shut the fuck up and do what I tell you. Get rid of Cora.”
He starts to say something, but the retort is lost as I hang up the phone.
“Ivan doesn’t know what is best for him, but I do,” I whisper. “I’m going to be his queen whether he likes it or not.”
31
CORA
The moment I’m alone in my room, I tear my frilly dress off and kick it into the corner.
I feel filthy. Like I’ve spent the last two hours wallowing in the mud with pigs.
In a lot of ways, I have. Alexander, Mikhail, Konstantin—they’re all pigs. The only worth I have in their eyes is the ability to look pretty and procreate. They don’t care if I’m happy. They don’t give a shit if I’m fulfilled.
If the last two hours taught me anything, it’s that if I stay here, I’ll end up like my mother. A weak, simpering woman clinging to the arm of a heartless bastard.
I go into my ensuite bathroom and scrub the makeup off of my face. It takes two passes before the eyeliner and mascara is finally nothing more than a slight smudge around my eyes. Usually, I’d try again, but what does it matter? Who is going to see me? No one I care about impressing.
When I’m done, I pad back into my empty room, grateful to be alone. But still, I wish I was somewhere else. Withsomeoneelse.
It’s me. Use this phone if you need it. I’m here.
Ivan’s text pops into my mind at the same moment I see my dress crumpled in the corner.
The rest of the dinner was such a nightmare that I almost forgot about the phone he sent me. I hurry across the room and dig through the swaths of fabric before I feel the piece of plastic.
I rest back on my ankles and open the phone. My message to Ivan is still in the text box unsent.
Don’t forget about me, Ivan. Don’t leave me here. Thank you for this, but please come—
All of those same feelings still burn inside of me, crying out for anyone to hear. But now, there is something else, too. A need.
I delete the message and draft a new one.
I wish you were here. Right now. In my bed.
I send the message and then scramble back onto my mattress, waiting for his reply. I don’t have to wait long.
Say more.
My fingers tingle with anticipation.Do you remember that bag of sex toys you made me buy?I ask.
Of course I remember.
