Page 3 of Bratva Prince
So many questions were popping into my mind, sending my brain into overload.How long had this been going on? Were they ever planning on telling me? Why did they do it?One after another—to never be answered because they took off like cowards.
I think that was what pissed me off the most. They left before I got a chance to punch them both in the face. Eh, probably for the best. I would have knocked their fucking teeth out. That was if I could pick my jaw up off the floor first.
With the bride and groomsmen missing from the wedding, there was no reason to continue, so the bridal party and guests dispersed. The groom insisted everyone enjoy the food and open bar at the reception, claiming they were celebrating his freedom from that two-timing manipulator. Though, I figured he took advantage of the fact that the catering was billed to her credit card.
AndItook advantage of the free drinks, and kept them coming, one after another, until I was stumbling out of that reception hall and into a cab that Viktor called for me. The poor cab driver got an earful—and an eyeful when I fell out of the cab and onto the pavement, my ass in the air for the world to see. Fortunately, it was late and few people were around the apartments at that time.
I’d barely made it to my bed before crashing for the night, and half of the next day.
* * *
Tissues litteredthe floor of my apartment. I sat on the couch, binging on a pint of ice cream, and sporting my lovely fluffy robe and kitty slippers. Viktor sat beside me; my legs plopped over his lap as he scooped a bite of ice cream with his own spoon.
“Mm, look at that ass,” he said, marveling at the derriere of Channing Tatum on the television screen .
“Eh.” I shrugged, not the least bit interested in Mr. Tatum, or any other male celebrities on the television.
Viktor scoffed. “Okay, I know Rolan hurt you, but don’t group Channing Tatum with the likes of his royal douchiness.”
I plucked a piece of popcorn from the bowl and tossed it at him. “Yeah, well I’m sure he would leave Nora for a hot bimbo in a bikini if given the chance.” I snorted, popping a piece into my mouth. “All men are alike.”
I reached for the ice cream spoon, shoveling another bite into my mouth. Popcorn, ice cream, and romance movies—why were these essential after being dumped?
“Oh, I like this song,” Viktor said as he reached for the remote to turn up the volume, knocking down a stack of papers that were strewn across the coffee table. Cleaning hadn’t been a priority the past few days. “What’s this?” He picked up an envelope in the stack of mail that I hadn’t checked all week. I’d simply brought it in and tossed it on the table, a routine I’d grown used to.
I shrugged, not the least bit concerned. Viktor opened the envelope, unfolding the letter within. His eyes scanned the page and he held it up, waving it through the air. “Oh, this is rich. You’re going to want to read this.”
I snatched the paper, my fingers gripping it tightly as I read a letter sent from my dearest Daria. Why the hell she wanted to send me a letter after running out on her wedding withmyboyfriend…
I cleared my throat and held the letter out in front of my face as I read aloud. “Willow, I’m sorry for the way things unfolded. Despite everything that happened, you’re my best friend, and you always have been, since you walked into grade school wearing your pink overalls with the stars on them… blah, blah, blah… yada, yada, yada…”
My eyes skimmed over the page, getting past all the mushy crap that Daria wrote in the letter about ourfriendship.
“My love for Rolan started when I treated him after his broken leg. We spent time together in the hospital, and grew closer every day since. I couldn’t hold back my feelings any longer, and neither could he. That’s why we left together. I know it was wrong to tell you like this, but I couldn’t bear to see your face after you found out. I know it’s not much, but please take these tickets to Greece. Maybe you’ll find your own Rolan on that trip. X.O. Daria.”
I couldn’t speak. For several minutes I couldn’t do anything but look at the tickets to Greece that slipped out of the envelope.
“Seriously? Find my own Rolan? I had a Rolan! You took him, remember?” I screamed at the letter. “And those tickets to Greece were mine! They even have my name on the reservations, dipshit.”
I couldn’t believe she’d try to pass it off like a kind act on her part. And all that garbage about friendship… If she loved me like she claimed, then she wouldn’t have risked a lifelong friendship over a man. I saw where her priorities fell.
Viktor had been just as shocked as I had. He snapped his finger and said, “Oh, hell no,” and jumped up from the sofa. “I can’t believe that bitch is trying to justify her actions. If she thinks you’ll be that easy to buy over, she’s got another thing coming. Come on, let’s go pack, we can think about it on the plane.”
“Plane?” I asked.
“For Greece,” he said, his expression adding a silent ‘duh.' I began shaking my head, but he wasn’t allowing it. “Oh, no, honey. You’re going on that trip, and we are going to plot against Ms. Daria, we are going to tan, swim in the ocean, and above all else—you’re going to get over Rolan. And we all know the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else,” he added with a wink.
I rolled my eyes, sighing heavily. “Viktor, look at me. I’m in no shape for a vacation.”
“Which is exactly why you need one,” he insisted, opening my dresser drawers and pulling out clothes to pack. He pulled out a hideous brown shirt my father made me buy, holding it up with his lips curled in disgust. “Oh, my. Why do you own something so drab and tasteless?”
I snatched the shirt from his hand, tossing it back into the dresser. “Viktor, I’m not going to Greece.”
“Sure, you are,” he answered, digging through my drawers and throwing a few thongs onto the bed, pairing them with lacy bras—bras that have been seen by no one’s eyes but mine and Rolan’s… and now Viktor’s. “You need a little self-love. And a little love from a man doesn’t hurt, either,” he teased.
“There’s no way I’m taking all this lingerie.”
“Fine, then I’ll go home and pack, and we can meet up later. The plane tickets are for tomorrow morning. Aren’t you glad I found that letter?”
