"Damn, Elena! Finally decided to wear that precious necklace of yours?" She approached, teasing. "I thought you were going to keep it locked away forever."
I unconsciously touched the cold diamond. It was too expensive—I only wore it on special occasions.
"Well, it is Christmas." My smile relaxed a bit.
"Seriously, Elena," Susan leaned closer, lowering her voice, "what's the deal with your mystery boyfriend? Every time he picks you up, it'sa different luxury car. And the gifts he gives you? Stuff we could never afford in a lifetime. He's obviously loaded. Maybe you'll even run into him at this party! I heard all the Russian elite in New York will be there tonight!"
Susan's words cut into my raw nerves. I couldn't believe Igor would disappear just to attend some party.
"Maybe." I deflected, my mind a tangled mess.
"What's wrong? You seem totally out of it." Susan picked up on my distress. "Your boyfriend still hasn't contacted you?"
"No." My voice was hoarse. "Not a word. Susan, I feel like I'm losing my mind."
"Hey, don't do this to yourself." She wrapped an arm around my shoulders, trying to comfort me. "God, it's Christmas. A guy like him probably got dragged to some boring family gathering. You know how it is—rich people have a million rules."
"But he could at least text me, right?" My hurt finally spilled over. "Just say 'I'm busy.' Is that so hard? It's been twenty-four hours. This isn't normal."
"Okay, that is pretty shitty." Susan frowned. "But right now, the important thing is getting this delivery done. You can look around, take your mind off that asshole."
"I guess that's all I can do." I took a deep breath, swallowing all my emotions.
The car rolled smoothly toward Long Island. Frost clouded the windows, blurring the rapidly passing snowy landscape and blocking out the city's noise. I leaned against the cold glass, my mind a jumbled mess. I replayed every moment we'd shared, trying to find some clue in those sweet details that would explain his sudden disappearance.
But I found nothing. Every date, every kiss, every time we made love—it had all felt so real. I could still clearly remember the tenderness when he touched my hair, the power when he entered my body.
Had it all been in my head? Lost in my spiraling thoughts, the car quickly reached its destination.
The Royal Hotel's luxury far exceeded my imagination. The car stopped at the red-carpeted main entrance, and uniformeddoormen opened my door. I pushed the gold-plated champagne cart, following a hostess through the opulent lobby.
The ballroom was alive with energy. Expensive perfume hung in the air, crystal chandeliers blazed overhead, everyone dressed to perfection with practiced smiles. Flowing strings, the delicate clink of champagne glasses, laughter and conversation wove together into high society's symphony.
Just as I was pushing the cart through the crowd, the ballroom lights suddenly dimmed. A spotlight hit the small stage ahead. A distinguished-looking middle-aged man walked up and took the microphone.
"Friends, family," his voice boomed with a heavy Russian accent, "thank you all for joining us on this beautiful snowy evening. To share this most important moment in my daughter's life with all of you is my greatest honor. I am Alexander Ivanov."
The crowd quieted, all eyes focused on the stage.
"Now," the man called Alexander broke into a proud smile, raising his glass toward somewhere in the crowd, "please allow me to offer my most sincere blessings to my beautiful daughter, Natasha, and the exceptional young man who will soon be my son—Mr. Igor Vorontsov!"
Igor... Vorontsov. Igor? The name hit me like a bullet through the heart. I felt all the blood drain from my body in an instant, the world spinning before my eyes.
I turned stiffly, following everyone's gaze. There, in the center of the crowd not far away, I saw him.
He wore an expensive tuxedo I'd never seen before, his hair perfectly styled, handsome and composed like royalty. Beside him stood a beautiful woman in a black mermaid evening gown, her hand intimately linked through his arm. Together they raised their glasses, smiling at the man on stage, at the surrounding guests.
I heard the guests' chatter washing over me like a tide.
"They're perfect for each other. I heard they got engaged six months ago."
"Right, the Vorontsov and Ivanov alliance—they'll monopolize the entire East Coast underground."
"Natasha's so lucky to marry a man like Igor."
"Igor's pretty fortunate, too. Natasha's such a beautiful woman..."
Six months ago...
