Page 602 of Filthy Elites

The others laugh.

Although Billie should take my threat seriously, I know she won’t.

When we approach the breakroom that’s come to be known as our lair, Lev shoves the door open, and we go inside.

Ilya takes out the new stash of drugs he got from his dealer and passes it around when we take our seats on the leather sofas.

We have already eaten lunch. Lunch breaks are more about topping up on whatever drug takes our interest.

“What are you planning in that crazy head of yours, friend?” Maksim asks. “I saw how you looked at her.”

I pull out a cigarette and light up. “How did I look at her?” I don’t like his tone or that he caught on to my mere fascination.

“Like you wanted to fuck her brains out, then punish her mouth after with a mouthful of your dick.” He laughs and bumps fists with Ilya.

“I wouldn’t say no to that,” Ilya smirks.

“Me neither,” Maksim agrees. “Maybe we should pass her around. Did you see the ass on her and those tits?”

I give him a hard stare and a crude smile, feeling my blood spike.

“None of you are touching her, and I’m not passing her around. So, find a new fucking theme.” I’m the leader here, whether they like it or not.

I have my own business with Billie, and none of them will get to dip their fingers in the honeypot.

I want her gone. That’s it. Nothing more.

She’s lucky that’s all I want. If she shows her face tomorrow, it will be game on.

* * *

The instantI step through the doors of my home—which no longer feels like mine—I want to turn back the way I came, jump in my car, and drive the hell away.

Usually, I try to spend as much time away from home as possible.

The laughter in the living room coming from my father and Selena, his new wife—who used to be our maid—is one big seriously fucked up reason for that.

The other is simply this house.

This place I used to call home is where my mother died—where I found her dead, floating in the pool.

She looked like a poetic macabre combination of a ghost and a porcelain doll—ethereal yet beautiful even in death.

She killed herself.

Contrary to what everyone else knows, that’s what happened. Her inoperable tumor didn’t take her final breath like Dad announced. At least he honored my mother’s final wish to keep her cause of death private.

I figured it wasn’t that hard for him to honor because it took the heat off him and the new situation with Selena.

If he told the world the truth, people would have thought Mom killed herself because of him.

I can just imagine the headlines:

Vladimir Volkova, Top New York accountant, marries his maid two weeks after his wife’s suicide.

Or it could be this:

Husband of Luna Volkova remarries two weeks after her suicide. What would New York’s beloved angel think of that? She dedicated her life to saving others, but her husband did not seem to value hers.

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