Page 52 of Dancing With Delusion

He knocks back his whiskey, nodding before getting up and leaving the room.

I swirl the whiskey around my glass, watching as the ice cubes bounce around the amber liquid, Victoria’s words playing in my head on a loop. ‘And what if you’re wrong, Dmitry?’

It’s been a couple days since Victoria was sectioned and I’m yet to hear anything from her. Sleeping without her is sending me out of my mind, and that’s when I find myself questioning my decision, praying I’ve made the right call. My head is still very full of her.

I enter V’s early evening for yet another meeting with Vivian. She’s taken a lot of my time over the recent days. She seems incapable of managing anything herself, even some of the most basic tasks. My father headed back to Russia a few days ago to attend to business, so it feels like I’ve been left babysitting and stopping her from making a lot of stupid business decisions. The thought of spending any more time here with her already has me wanting to turn around and leave.

I make my way over to Vivian, who’s perched on one of the high stools at the bar. She has a whiskey ready for me, and the second she spots me, she slides off the chair elegantly and greets me with a kiss on each cheek.

“Take a seat,” she says, smiling as she does the same. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Dmitry,” she gushes enthusiastically, even though it was only last night that we were together going over the accounts. Apparently, the numbers made no sense to her, but it was like talking to a brick wall, and in true Vivian style, she wanted me to break every damn thing down.

“Morning,” I mutter, careful not to show an ounce of interest.

“How are you?” she asks, peering at me over the rim of her glass as she takes a small sip.

“The same as I was yesterday, Vivian.” My tone is bored, conveying how I feel about being in her presence again.

“Heard anything from . . .” she waves her arms around as if trying to remember her name, even though she damn well knows it.

“Victoria,” I answer, taking a sip of my own drink and allowing the amber liquor to take away the stress of not knowing how she’s doing.

“That’s the one,” she says, placing her glass back on the bar.

“I’m hoping to check in with her after our meeting, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Oh, right,” she frowns. “Is that a wise idea, Dmitry?” she questions, raising my hackles immediately.

“And why would it not be?”

“Well, given the reason she’s in there, maybe it would be more beneficial for her to find her feet,” she says.

I laugh at her audacity to dare show concern when she’s made it very clear how she feels about Victoria. “All of a sudden, everyone seems to be an expert in these matters.” I run my fingers over the rim of my glass with a sinking feeling in my gut. I don’t need any more doubts planted in my mind, even though I know everything I’ve done is for her welfare.

“We’re only looking out for you, Dmitry.” She reaches over to where my hand lays on the bar and gently caresses it. I snatch it away, taking my glass and draining the contents.

Tori

I’m awoken by cold water being thrown over my body. I shiver involuntarily, gasping as the coldness steals my breath. I force my heavy eyes open, but it’s too hard and I give up. The last thing I remember is being loaded into an ambulance to be transferred to a mental health facility. Marshall promised he’d get me out, but even knowing that didn’t calm the terror I felt when leaving Dmitry behind.

My attention is drawn right back to the present when a hard slap connects with my cheek. The sting burns in a way I’ve never felt before, like everything is extra sensitive. I try to pull my arms up to my face to figure out if I’m bleeding, but there’s resistance on my wrists. It’s then I realise my hands are tied behind my back.

“Wakey, wakey.” It’s a woman’s voice, and as the venomous tone penetrates my brain, I realise I recognise it. I force my eyes open and find everything around me is fuzzy, but when the haze begins to lift, I see Vivian standing in front of me, sneering her sinister smile.

Panic begins to fill me, and I glance around, trying to figure out where the hell I am. I soon realise I’m tied to a chair. A slither of light shines through a crack in the curtains. The room is bare, and the floorboard creaks beneath her as she steps closer to me, delivering another hard slap to my face. I bite the inside of my cheek, preventing me from screaming profanities at her given that I’m not in any position to protect myself from her onslaught. The all too familiar metallic taste fills my mouth, and I feel a sense of ease wash over me.

“What’s the matter, Tori? You’re certainly very quiet now you don’t have your bulldog to protect you,” she sneers.

“Why don’t you untie me and see how fucking quiet I am?” I hiss, adding a wink to try and show I’m not as scared as she wants me to be, even though I am well aware she holds my life in her hands.

She throws her head back and cackles. “Yeah, sure thing.”

“You realise when Dmitry finds out I’m not where I’m supposed to be, he’ll come looking for me, don’t you?”

“Oh, hunny, you clearly didn’t get the memo. You’ve been out of it for a couple days already, and he hasn’t even asked about you. So, I wouldn’t be overly confident about that, but don’t you worry that messed-up little head of yours—I’ll take care of him for you.”

My jaw twitches as I digest what she’s saying. How the hell could I have been out of it for the last two days? He must be looking for me . . . right? Surely, he wouldn’t go through all this trouble just to get rid of me when I wanted to walk away anyway. She grins at me, clearly revelling in my frustration. I pull on the restraints, hoping they’ll give just a little so I can wipe that smug look off the bitch’s face.

“It’s been a while since I visited the dungeon, but I remember every fantasy of his. And I’ll take great pleasure in deleting every memory of you from that room and his mind,” she hisses as she leans into my ear. I push myself forward on the chair, hoping to connect with her but with little luck.

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