Page 64 of Dancing With Delusion

Dmitry takes a sponge and loads it with my favourite body wash. He begins to run light circles over my torso, and I close my eyes, wishing this could have a different ending.

When he’s satisfied I’m clean, he begins to rinse my hair, wetting it through and adding shampoo. He massages it into a foam, all the while remaining silent. Once he’s rinsed that clean, he adds conditioner, taking the comb from the side and working it through the roots just like he’s watched me do many times over.

I wait patiently while he rinses it away, and then I push to stand on unsteady feet and climb out. Taking a fluffy towel from the rack, I wrap my body, enjoying the softness as it warms my skin. I leave the bathroom, closing the door to put some distance between us.

I’m dressed in joggers and a loose T-shirt when Dmitry appears from the bathroom five minutes later. He keeps his eyes trained on me as he rubs his hair with a towel. “You need rest,” he says, “and food.”

As if by magic, there’s a knock at the door, and Dmitry wraps the towel around his waist before pulling it open. “Thank you,” he mutters, taking something from whoever is on the other side and closing the door. He places a tray of toast on the bed beside me, and I eye it greedily.

I pick the first piece up and take a large bite, closing my eyes as the salty, buttery goodness hits my tastebuds. It’s too good, and I take a second bite before I’ve even swallowed the first.

“We’ll also need to have you checked by the doctor,” he continues, stepping into the wardrobe and returning in shorts. I’m not used to seeing him so casual and I almost smile. “You and the baby.” I stop chewing and stare at him. He knows. “Why didn’t you tell me, Victoria?”

I almost laugh in his face. “When?” I ask, dropping the half-eaten slice back on the plate. “Should I have slipped it in while you were signing the paperwork to send me to the nut house that didn’t even fucking exist?”

“It wasn’t like that,” he mutters, placing his hands on his hips and staring down at the floor.

“Or when you were waving me off, Dmitry?”

“Eat,” he whispers. “We’ll talk later.”

“You realise I was never sick, right?” I snap. “They made you believe that.”

“I’m starting to catch up, yeah.”

“You believed them over me,” I yell, tears sliding down my cheeks.

“Some of the things you did,” he shakes his head, “it was easy to believe them, Victoria.”

Dmitry

There’s a knock at the door and I pull it open, welcoming the interruption. Marshall stands on the other side looking worried, and I glance back to Victoria, who’s wiping her eyes angrily. “I have to deal with this,” I tell her. “We’ll talk when you’ve rested.”

“Sure,” she mutters, rolling her eyes.

We head downstairs to my office. “How is she?” he asks.

“Angry,” I tell him, “as she should be. I let her down.”

“She’ll calm down. Give her time.”

I sit behind my desk and scrub my hands over my tired face. “So, that’s two down,” I tell him. “Two to go.”

“Looks that way. Tori said there was no one else who came to the house, and they didn’t talk about anyone else being involved. What’s the plan?”

I crack my knuckles. “I want them to think I don’t know,” I say, and he frowns. “I can’t just wipe my father out without the families’ agreement. To get that, I’ll need to prove I’m worthy of stepping into his shoes with no disruption to them or their income.”

“Will they agree after what Nik said?”

“Yes, I’m confident they will when I tell them how much business and money I can bring their way.”

“That’s all they care about,” he agrees. “And Vivian?”

“She’s going to pay,” I say, feeling the familiar burn of anger.

“So, what will you tell them? They’ll begin to wonder what’s happened when they find her missing.”

I smile, taking out my mobile. I call my father, and he answers on the second ring. “Dmitry?”

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