More thanenjoyed.
A part of me has been itching for another hit since that night, wondering how I survived without this for so long.
I stare out at Washington DC’s luminous sidewalks as the car cruises the streets heading toward the event I’m attending with my parents and a few other leaders. They went ahead first because my father is always huge on security, so he needed to check that personally.
On the surface, this charity is all about medical innovation. In reality, it’s a nest of vipers.
The Boston branch is hosting, having invited most of the Bratva in the States—our own, plus Seattle, Florida, and, of course, Chicago.
Uncle Adrian, Jeremy’s father, and my own were reluctant to attend, and for good reason. With all the major branches under one roof, it’s the perfect breeding ground for an attack.
Even with security supposedly locked down on all sides and Boston’s leaders swearing they’ve taken every measure, the risk is written in blood.
But skipping wasn’t an option. Not when every other branch is showing up. That would scream weakness, and we don’t do weakness. So our side had to send my parents, Uncle Adrian, and Nikolai’s parents—Aunt Rai and Uncle Kyle—backed by a wall of security.
I didn’t have to come; Jeremy and Nikolai aren’t here. But I’ve always shadowed my father, studying his every move. And since this is probably the biggest Bratva gathering I’ve ever seen, no way in hell was I missing it.
There’s also that pesky thing where I don’t want to give myself free time to overthink.
As the car takes me to my destination, I pull out my phone and frown when I find no new texts. I even scroll to the conversation with Yulian, double-checking just in case the notification got lost somewhere.
It didn’t.
With a sigh, I switch to my exchanges with Gareth on Reddit. He named himself TooPrettyForThisMess like a true narcissist. I picked QuietRage because, really, I’ve been feeling a fire simmering at the surface without the right ammunition to explode.
QuietRage
Any updates?
TooPrettyForThisMess
Well… I let him fuck me and that might have been the best sex of my life. Kill me.
Wow, weren’t you so adamant about never getting fucked? You folded fast.
Shut up. Don’t judge me.
I’m not. Truly. I’m glad you gave in toyour feelings.
There are NO FEELINGS.
You don’t have to use caps. I TOTALLY believe you.
VERY funny. Anyway, what about you? Will you be moving to fucking anytime soon, or are you completely fine with pining?
I’m not pining.
Dude, you’ve been having dreams about him.
That’s nothing. It’s subconscious.
Sure is if you obsessively think about him before going to sleep.
Will you stop now?
Nah. But seriously, what’s stopping you?
It’s complicated…
