Page 5 of Dancing With Delusion

I smile at his fun-loving side as he places his arm around my waist and brings me into his chest. Resting my head on his shoulder, I try to compose the anxiety coursing through my body.

“He hates me, Dmitry.” He slides his hand down my back ‘til it’s resting just above my backside. My skin breaks out in goosebumps and lust replaces the nerves.

“He hates everyone, don’t take it personally,” he says, placing a light kiss on the top of my head. We manoeuvre around the dance floor easily, and I inhale his scent, relaxing me further. He stops moving, taking my chin and lifting ‘til my gaze reaches his. “I love you, my krasota.” His eyes burn with such intensity as he leans down and places a gentle kiss on my lips. The room fades away around us, and I feel a wave of calm wash over me. I catch his lower lip between my teeth and graze it. He smirks. “Not now, my lyubov.”

“I love you, Dmitry,” I whisper.

I haven’t left his side all evening, so while Dmitry is talking to some associates, I take the opportunity to visit the restroom. Giving his hand a squeeze, I reach up on my tiptoes and whisper in his ear, “I’ll be right back. I just need to use the ladies’ room.” He gives a slight nod, continuing with his conversation.

I keep my eyes lowered as I make my way to the bathroom, hoping to avoid Dmitry’s father, or worse, Vivian. But when I push the door open, I come face to face with Vivian. Her eyes are cold as they set upon me, and if looks could kill, I would already be six feet under. She doesn’t move out my way, instead choosing to remain rooted to the spot with her judgy eyes running down my dress. I step around her and make my way to the mirror to freshen up my makeup, hoping she’ll leave without a fuss.

“You’ll never be good enough,” she mutters, her voice laced with venom. I inwardly groan, realising I’m not able to avoid a confrontation. I continue to apply my lipstick and try to ignore her as she joins me at the mirrors, staring hard at my reflection. “You can never give him what he needs. You’re just another conquest for him. He’ll soon get bored of your cheap cunt.”

Placing my lipstick back in my purse, I turn to her and force a smile. “What’s wrong, Vivian, jealous?” I grab my bag and head for the exit, but she grabs my arm, stopping me. I stare at where her tight grasp pinches my skin. This bitch has some balls, I’ll give her that. I raise my eyes to meet hers, waiting for her to spit her next vile barrage of bullshit.

“Just you fucking watch. When I call, he will come running because he’s mine. You’re just his little side slut.”

She releases me and walks out without a backwards glance.

I growl in frustration. Fuck, I want to slam my fist into her smug face. Taking a deep breath, I compose myself, determined not to embarrass Dmitry in front of everyone, then I storm out, almost crashing straight into Dmitry. He steadies me with a look of concern on his face. “Everything okay?” he asks as he slips his arm around my waist, and we head back towards the main room.

“I just had a run-in with your dirty skank. She was putting me in my place,” I mutter bitterly. His grip tightens around my waist, and I feel him stiffen. “Don’t panic, Dmitry. I was on my best behaviour,” I add sarcastically, and he raises a brow. “Honestly. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to poke my fingers in the bitch’s eyes, but I’d ruin my dress.” I smile at him, hoping to lighten the mood, and he laughs. I love it when he laughs, even if deep down her words have cut me.

We sit together at one of the large round tables, and a waitress hands me another glass of Champagne. I take it, scrunching my nose. Marshall laughs at me from the other side of the table, and I mouth, “Fuck off.”

Dmitry places his hand on my knee, gliding it up my thigh and under the slit in my dress. I sigh with happiness, loving how his smallest touch ignites a fire in my core. I close my eyes and rest my head on his shoulder, trying to chase away the doubts Vivian planted.

“Dmitry, could I have a word please?” Vivian’s shrill voice breaks through my blissful state, and my eyes shoot open to find her standing beside us. I grab hold of Dmitry’s hand, and he squeezes it reassuringly.

“Can’t it wait?” Her eyes fill with tears, and he sighs, releasing my hand and standing. “I’ll be right back, my krasota.” He leans down, placing a kiss on my forehead, and I clench my jaw in annoyance. “Marshall, don’t leave her alone,” he orders, and just like that, he leaves the room with her. Her. The Wicked Witch of the West. And I realise she was right—she clicks her bony fingers and off he goes like a little bitch.

Marshall moves around the table to fill Dmitry’s seat, and I scowl at him. “I don’t need a fucking babysitter,” I spit angrily, lifting my Champagne glass and draining the contents. I grimace at the taste, slamming the glass back onto the table. “I can’t stand this shit,” I say to no one in particular and get up from my seat. Marshall goes to follow me, but I stop him in his tracks. “I’m more than capable of going to the bar by myself and ordering a drink. I’m at a charity event, for fuck’s sake. It’s not as if someone’s going to kidnap me, is it?” I mutter, “Not that he’d fucking notice anyway, now he’s with that conniving bitch.”

Marshall sits back in his seat and rolls his eyes. “Don’t go anywhere other than the bar. I’ll be watching from here. And come straight back,” he orders. I smirk at his feeble attempt to boss me around.

I make my way over to the bar and order a shot of vodka, needing something stronger than Champagne. I knock it back, immediately asking for a refill, when Dmitry’s father slides up beside me. He watches me curiously, his brows pinched together. I don’t need a degree in body language to know this man clearly dislikes me.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Volkov?” He raises his eyebrows in amusement, I assume because a feeble woman like me dares speak to someone as powerful as him.

“He was happy with Vivian before you came along and wormed your way into his life,” he murmurs, keeping his voice dangerously low. “You and that tight little cunt of yours are merely a distraction for now. He’ll realise that eventually.”

Wow, the audacity of this man. “Mr. Volkov,” I fix him with my best assertive glare, “I appreciate your input on the matter, but your son’s a big boy. I’m sure he can make his own decisions.”

His eyes darken, and I imagine he’s thinking up creative ways to kill me. “Oh, princess, you have no idea who you’re playing with.”

A shiver runs down my spine at his words, but I somehow keep my icy composure. I drain my glass, wanting to put as much distance between us as I can, and when I go to walk away, I see Marshall watching our interaction closely. He visibly relaxes as I start to make my way back over to him.

“He’ll soon go back to Vivian when he realises you’re just a cheap bitch interested in his money. In fact, she’s probably working her magic right now, showing him what he’s missing.” I stop dead in my tracks and my blood runs cold. How dare this man insult me and imply that I’m only after Dmitry’s money? If there’s one thing I’m not, it’s a gold digger.

Marshall must witness the change in my composure because he’s glaring right at me, shaking his head in what I think is a warning. What is it with all these men telling me what I can and can’t do?

I spin on my heel and smile coldly, looking Dmitry’s father dead in the eye. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” I ask, my voice coming out louder than I expected. The people near us glance over curiously. I take a few paces towards him, so we’re toe to toe. “How dare you imply I’m with him for his fucking money? I couldn’t care less about his bank account, unlike that little cum slut he’s got hanging out his arse.” His eyes are furious, reminding me of Dmitry. His temple ticks, like he’s gritting his teeth, and his eyes burn into me with contempt.

Marshall appears and grabs my wrist, trying to pull me away. “Tori, leave it.”

I snatch my hand out of his grasp. “Fuck you too, Marshall.”

I poke Dmitry’s dad in his chest and hear an audible gasp from Marshall. The people around us have fallen silent, and I can only assume all eyes are on us. “You,” I turn and do the same to Marshall, “and you can fuck right off. No one tells me what to do, and no one accuses me of being a fucking gold digger.” I scream the last few words, feeling the rage inside me taking over.

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