Page 4 of Virgin Bratva Prisoner

She won’t break her promise. I know my secret is safe with her.

Hopefull,y one day, when I’m doing well and I have my own practice, I’ll save her from this mafia life as well.

I say goodbye to Ruslana and walk towards my car.

I was very specific about getting my own apartment when we arrived in America. I needed a space to study without worrying about them asking questions all the time. My brothers were worried about me staying on my own in a new city, but I love it.

We’ve only been here for a month and already I feel like I belong here.

The energy of this place makes me feel like the possibilities are endless.

Driving back to my apartment, I’m happily thinking about tonight. At the entrance exam I met a really cool girl, Jenna. We hit it off right away—and she also got accepted so we’ll be studying together. She invited me to come out dancing tonight to celebrate. It’s awesome to know I already have a friend and a study buddy. It’s not going to be easy. Late nights, hours of discipline—and all while keeping it a secret from my brothers. But it will be worth it.

As I push open my apartment door, I walk inside and realize that I left my music playing the entire time I was out this morning. My grouchy neighbor in the apartment below me is going to be complaining about that for sure.

I pick up the remote and flick it off.

I pick up the welcome packet that the university delivered this morning.

I’m going to go through all of requirements for text books and whatever else I need. I’m so excited. I’m so proud of myself too. I graduated college top of my class. I’m not one ofthose people that can just read something once and remember it either, I had to workhardfor those results and I will keep working hard towards my dream.

All afternoon I sit with my feet curled up beneath me, making lists, checking where I can order the text books from—planning ahead.

By the time I stand up to stretch, I am shocked to see that the sun has already gone down and my apartment is quite dark. I was so focused on my laptop that I didn’t realize.

Shit.

I’m going to be late for the party tonight if I don’t move my ass.

I rush to the bathroom and flick the shower on. I don’t have enough time to wash my hair, but luckily it still looks good. I sweep it up into a high bun and climb under the hot spray of water, soaping myself down in a hurry.

Then, wrapped in a towel, dripping water everywhere, I rush through to my bedroom and grab my little black dress from the hanger. It’s the easiest choice without overthinking what to wear. I know it looks good on me and I don’t have time to fuss over outfits right now.

I toss my dress onto the bed and dry off, leaving the towel in a crumpled pile on the floor of my bedroom.

I slip the dress on, pair it with some super high black stilettos, and decide that somehow—by sheer luck—the messy bun I did for the shower actually looks really cute, so I leave my hair exactly as it is, with a few long loose curls hanging around my face.

I brush on some makeup, grab my phone and my credit card and rush out of the door to my car.

I should call an Uber, but I’m too late to wait for it and if I do end up drinking too much, I’ll just get one to drive me home.

I’m not much of a drinker though. I enjoy a glass or two of champagne, and on the rare occasion, I’ll have a pink gin, but mostly I hate the hangover and I don’t like to be out of control so, I avoid it.

When I get to the club, I remember the other reason it would have been better to Uber. Parking is a nightmare. The club is busy, with a long line of people waiting outside and it takes me ages to find a parking space.

Now, I have to walk a mile in these shoes.

By the time I reach the club entrance from where I parked, my feet are aching. I should have just worn my Nike’s. The uneven ground is not made for high heels, but at least inside the club, it’ll be fine.

Sneakers could have looked pretty cute with this dress. I giggle to myself, looking at all the girls dressed to the nines standing in the line outside. I bet you every single one of them wishes they could have worn sneakers. Perhaps we should all start a revolution.

“Raisa.” I turn to see who is calling my name. I mean it can only be one person, seeing as I don’t know anyone in the city yet. Her bright red hair makes her easy to spot.

“Jenna,” I say happily, as she grabs my arm and drags me into the line to stand next to her. “You made it just in time. If you were five minutes later, we would already be inside and you’d have to stand in line all by yourself. This is Blake and this is Mathew. They are also going to be studying with us.”

Blake is beautiful. Her jaw length, blonde hair is dead straight and frames her sharp pixie-like features perfectly.Matthew’s crew cut and thick glasses tell me he’s a no-nonsense type of person. Someone I would probably enjoy studying with. They are both smiling—welcoming and friendly. I like them instantly.

“Hi. Hello. Nice to meet you.” I smile broadly at everyone. I guess these people are going to be my group. The thought makes me smile even wider. Could use a basic description of Blake and Mathew to help form a better picture.

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