AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It was better for both of us because we were heading in the direction of a natural disaster.
But it does nothing to stop my legs from moving of their own accord as I circle the room and gravitate toward her.
5
ELANEE
One week ago…
He decorated me in fucking red. My least favorite color. Connor has tried to strike up a conversation with me twice since picking me up from my shitty apartment, but I’d ignored him. Now, I am forced to play the role of escort, and I hated every moment of it.
The event was exactly how I recalled the extravagant displays of wealth in high society and it wasn’t short of attendees. I couldn’t decide if it was better to have so many people here because it might make it easier to blend into the crowd, or if I had a higher chance of bumping into someone that I know. But with a dress so tight and a color so bold, I think that was Connor’s intention. He might as well be showing me off like a fucking disco ball. I’d only been standing in the red kitten heels for five minutes, and already my feet were in complaint. Years of ballet and injuries have led to instability at the best of times. Any heels make it so much worse. I want out.
Connor guides us through the room effortlessly, smiling and briefly introducing me as I hang off his elbow as instructed. Partly because I also need his support, and I’m certain the fucker has done this on purpose.
“Tell me, what did you miss most about America?” Connor asks as he grabs a flute of champagne for the both of us. I take it but make no move to drink it. I don’t like Connor or the tight leash he has over me, but until I can figure out how to get myself out of his clutches, I will refrain from being on his unfavorable side. “The food?” he asks.
What did I miss? So many things. But none I would share with him.
The beauty of Moscow quickly diminished two years into my living abroad, and I’d since found it very hard to enjoy or miss anything because I realized it was a weakness. I’d also given up on the hope that I might return to American soil.
In truth, what I missed most was my family.
But instead, I say, “The sports.”
An obvious lie.
He offers a slow-knowing smile. “Hmm,” he says thoughtfully as we now stand at the edge of the event. I notice the way he’s searching over the crowd for whom I’m not sure. “Perhaps I’ll take you to a game sometime then.” His hand slips down to my lower back.
“You shouldn’t make the mistake of thinking we can be anything friendlier,” I warn. And the scathing tone catches us both off guard. Sometimes, my obedient mask slips. He might be my keeper for now, but I was not his property.
He smirks and leans in. “Do you really think I can’t keep what happens between us a secret?” A chill runs down my spine, but I don’t show it.
“Do you truly think he won’t find out?” I reply. The truth of the matter is that Connor still takes orders. And I hope that it’s enough to deter him.
Connor doesn’t seem surprised by my response but smiles nonetheless as a woman waves him over. “You’re nothing but a washed-up dancer, anyway. I’m forced to attend this event just as you are, so the least you can do is be a bit interesting, or I’ll make your life hell.”
I swallow my pride because he’s right.
“Now, be a good girl and make adequate impressions while I’m gone,” he orders.
I can tell by the way he’s being eye-fucked by the brunette across the room that it’s a more than friendly time out they’ll be taking. Which means I’ll be waiting here for even longer.
I sigh, a moment of relief as he leaves, and I place my untouched drink down on a side table. I walk further into the party, looking for somewhere quiet so I can sit and rest my feet. They burn, and I need to massage my toes; it’s been a long time since I’d worn heels, and I have every intention of throwing them out the moment I returned to my shitty apartment.
I’m still unsure how Connor got himself involved and worked for such shady people, as he is a part of high society as much as the next in this room. But I suppose I was no different; I hadn’t made good choices myself.
I notice a waitress slip out of a room and close a door behind her in the back of the event. I walk to it, hoping it’s a smaller space, considering so many have ventured outside where it appears the after-party will most likely take place.
When I open the door, a sigh of relief escapes me. It’s clearly a room the catering staff use, considering spare chairs and tables are stacked inside alongside empty silver carts, most likely for clean up when the event ends. The room is dimly lit, most likely to deter anyone from walking in, but it’s everything I was hoping for right now.
I remove the closest top chair and sit on it, almost feeling pity for the room. It’s clearly a library with floor-to-ceiling shelves but is no more than a relic to the wealthy. I remove my shoes and wince at the sore muscles as I begin to rub my feet. Hideous. I absolutely hate my feet. Every time I look at them, I’m forced to relive the reality that my dream didn’t come to pass and that I was no better than a wounded animal who now struggles at best to walk in a straight line.
Light spills into the room as the door opens, and I’m quick to turn my back to them and slip my heels back on. “Sorry, I just needed a little time out,” I say to someone I’m assuming is one of the catering staff.
They don’t say anything, but the door shuts. Once I’m done putting my heels back on, I look over my shoulder. No one’s here. Maybe they left, or someone was looking for a bathroom?
“An interesting place to find you.”
