Page 74 of Taken By My Grumpy Pakhan

“Genevieve?”

Anna’s voice drew closer as I opened my Google search and typed in the words that haunted me the entire way back.

“Kazimir Ivanovich dating history.”

“Are you serious right now?” Anna exclaimed, sitting next to me.

A long list of webpages opened alongside pictures of him with different women.

“He does have a type.”

I ignored Anna’s comment to open the page from a relatively trusted magazine and almost passed out from the sight that met me.

NEW YORK’S MOST UNATTAINABLE BACHELOR

Beneath the caption were multiple pictures of Kazimir at different events, occasions and places with women who looked like they just walked off the front page of a magazine.

In all my time stalking and fantasizing about him, I never paid much attention to his dating history. I never deluded myself into thinking I had a chance and only focused on his pictures, so this was a revelation.

I scanned through the pictures, noting two things. Anna was right, he did have a type: long hair, sharp features, nice tits. The next was the dates.

Each picture had a maximum of two months between them. Some had as little as two days.

He changed women at the same frequency I changed a bra.

“Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

I pushed the laptop to the side, taking a deep inhale till I felt my body relax a little. The sting in my chest did die down, but it wasn’t as suffocating.

“Remember the woman I told you Kazimir attended the ball with?”

Anna nodded. “The one you said looked like the prototype for supermodels.”

The image returned with harsh bitterness. “I ran into her at the boutique.”

Anna sat up. “Did she do anything stupid?”

“Yes—No.” I let out a dry chuckle, letting my arms raise and fall limp beside me. “I don’t even know.”

“What happened?” Anna asked carefully.

I narrated the exchange in the changing room with Anna whilst watching her face go from oh to what the fuck and back to oh.

“She’s a bitch,” Anna said the moment I was done.

“Is she though?”

“Yes. She’s a bitch, a bully disguising as a girl's girl and jealous to her core.”

I let out another chuckle. “Jealous? Anna, be for real. What’s there to be jealous about? Plus, she did reveal the truth to me.”

“Yes. After spending the first half of the conversation deliberately trying to talk you down. She knew exactly what she came to do. Probably some bitter ex.”

“She’s not an ex, though.”

Anna’s face scrunched with suspicion. “Then what is she?”

“An old friend.” A light bulb suddenly went off in my head and her accent became clearer. “I think they go way back to Russia.”