Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Oh, God. He could have so easily pulled his gun out and shot her.
I wrapped my arm around my middle, not sure I could take much more of their animated tale. I swallowed past the bile in my throat and asked, “And then what happened?”
Millie wagged her finger. “This time, we told him about your other man. I told him if he didn’t stop this nonsense, we were going to make sure that you told your other new big scary boyfriend from over at the Four Monks.”
Barb grinned as she lifted her iced tea in a mock toast. “That sure shut him up.”
I closed my eyes as I rubbed my temple.
“Everyone knows about the men at the Four Monks, dear. And he’s also Russian, so he definitely must know about them. We figured he would get the picture, and he did.”
I stood and placed my palms on the counter as I leaned forward. “He did?”
“Yes. He made sure we meant the Four Monks, and then he smiled and said that changes everything and to tell Vivian never mind. Then he gave us five hundred dollars if you can believe it and told us to go treat ourselves to something nice for our troubles. He then went on his way.”
Millie pulled the money out of her housecoat pocket and spread out the new bills before fanning herself. “We’re going to get dressed up and head to Maple & Ash for dinner. Do you want to join us? They have great dirty martinis.”
Tell Vivian never mind?
The man’s threats had turned my world upside down, and now he says never mind?
That couldn’t possibly be it.
But maybe it was.
Judging by what they said, he’d completely changed his mind after learning the Four Monks were involved.
Var had been telling me this whole time he wasn’t just some underling in the Russian Mafia.
Maybe even the mere mention of the Four Monks was like saying the name Corleone to an Italian. If you knew, you knew.
Was it possible?
Maybe.
Wow.
Could this entire shit show finally be over?
An odd, unsettled feeling churned in my stomach.
If it was all over, then there truly was no reason for any more interactions with Var.
I mean, I was set on that this morning, but part of me knew he would not let the issue with the other Russian man rest.
Chances were the Bond villain dude had already reached out to Var and explained himself.
So it was over.
It was all over.
Like really over.
Huh…
Barb snapped her fingers. “Earth to Vivian. Did you want to come with us tonight?”
I blinked before skirting around the island and giving them both a kiss on the cheek. “You know what? That sounds lovely. How about we go in a few hours for an early dinner before it gets too crowded? Just knock on my door when you’re ready.”
In the meantime, I needed time to process and think.
Mainly, I needed time to drink copious amounts of wine and feel guilty about all the dirty sex I had with Var while wearing some of the clothes I’d pretty much stolen from him.
Would he even care?
Probably not. The man seemed to have more money than God.
Still.
I couldn’t help but wonder if he would be relieved or angry when he got home tonight and found out I wasn’t there. It would probably be for the best if I wasn’t in my apartment either.
Just in case…
CHAPTER 31
VIVIAN
After saying goodbye to Barb and Millie, I walked down the hall to my apartment. I’d only opened the door wide enough to pull the two Louis Vuitton trunks inside before closing it and heading over to their place to show off my outfit.
As I entered the apartment now, I was struck by how cold and lonely it felt.
It was strange to be returning to my life after all that had happened.
It was as if my apartment shouldn’t look the same, but of course it did.
It just felt like everything should look different, but didn’t.
It was like Christmas vacation at home after my first semester in college. Everything was the same, but felt so different. Smaller, somehow. Less cozy and familiar.
Leaving the trunks in the hallway, I went into my bedroom and stripped out of my Chanel dress and put on a pair of leggings and one of my oversized men’s shirts that I liked to paint in.
Later, I would go through the trunks and find something fabulous to wear out to dinner.
Why not?
I might as well celebrate.
The drama was over. While not getting my fifty grand, I’d at least gotten some killer outfits with matching purses out of the entire ordeal.
And some amazing orgasms.
Win, well, sort of win.
After pouring myself a glass of wine, I surveyed my apartment. The living room furniture was still damp from the fire sprinklers, and I still needed to replace the scorched coffee table, but that could all wait until later.