Page 4 of Dancing With Desire

“Then convince her,” I snap. “Tell her it’s your place, Marshall. Tell her I don’t know about it, if it makes her feel better.” I hate that she’d want to hide from me. “I’ve also transferred some money into her account,” I add.

“You’ve paid her off?” snaps Phoebe. “Like hush money?”

I smirk. “You’ve been watching too many films, Phoebe. She’s carrying my child, it’s the least I can do to make sure she’s cared for.”

“She’s stubborn. You know she’ll not touch it.”

“And how the fuck will she live?” I shout, finally losing my cool. Phoebe presses her lips together in a fine line. “She has nojob, and she can’t get one now she’s pregnant. So, do me a favour and save your negative bullshit for someone else.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she says sarcastically. “Did you want me to praise you, Dmitry? Tell you how great you’re being towards her? You’ll put a roof over her head, give her an abundance of cash, and your conscience is clear?”

I stand, forcing my chair to fall back against the wall. “You’re pushing me too far,” I warn. “I get why you’re pissed with me, but there is only so much of your attitude I’ll take.”

“You can’t exactly kill me, can you?” she asks with a smirk. “What will that do to Tori?”

I move around the desk so quickly, she doesn’t have time to react. She backs up to the wall, and I catch Marshall stiffening as I push my face to hers. “I could just kill you, Phoebe, then go and get Victoria and drag her back here kicking and screaming, locking her up until she sees sense.”

She forces a smile. “I think you’re underestimating how much she hates you, Dmitry.”

Her words twist my already painful heart. “I think you’re underestimating how much I give a fuck. I know Victoria, and all I really need to do is tie her up and fuck her into submission. Trust me, it works.”

“So, why isn’t she already here?” she whispers, arching a brow.

“Enough,” barks Marshall. “Phoebe, let’s go before you get yourself killed.”

TORI

Ilay on Phoebe’s sofa, but I’m restless and end up tossing and turning as my mind races through memories of me and Dmitry. And when I do eventually find myself drifting off, I’m startled by the smallest of noises.

My heart ricochets in my chest when I hear the key in the front door. I brace myself, just in case Vladamir has somehow tracked me down, even though I know it could only be Phoebe.

I sit up straighter as she walks through the door and force a smile, which soon fades when I spot Marshall behind her. I stand abruptly, half expecting Dmitry to follow, but I’m relieved when Marshall shuts the door behind him.

I clench my jaw and ball my fists. “What the fuck is he doing here?”

Phoebe reassuringly rubs my arm and offers a sympathetic smile. It reminds me of the way I was treated when everyone thought I was crazy, and I stiffen. “He just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” She bows her head slightly, and I’m pleased that she has the decency to look remorseful.

I fold my arms over my chest. “Well, as you can see, I’m still alive,” I spit angrily. “No thanks to you and your boss.”

Marshall steps closer, and I instinctively step back so he can’t make any kind of contact. His expression fills with hurt, and for a second, I feel bad. I know I shouldn’t hold Marshall responsible, but I’m still angry, and he’s the closest to Dmitry. Plus, he talked me into going even though we both knew I wasn’t crazy.

Phoebe gently takes my arm, and I stare at where her fingers hold me. It reminds me of the last few days, and I shudder. She notices my reaction and releases me. “Sorry,” she says sadly. “Why don’t we all sit down? I thought it would be good for you to get some answers about this whole messed-up situation, and Marshall can give you them,” she murmurs, glancing over at Marshall. He offers her a small smile, and she returns it, her eyes glinting in that way they do when she likes someone. I narrow my eyes, glancing back and forth between the pair in annoyance until they spot me and break their little eye flirt.

I drop down onto the sofa, pulling the fluffy blanket around me as if it were a coat of armour. Phoebe lowers herself beside me, a look of relief on her face.

She’s right, I need answers, and I can’t sit in the same room as Dmitry for a second, so Marshall is the next best thing, and it might help me work through some of the questions circling around my head.

Tears fill my eyes as I rest my head on my knees. There’s a conflict between my head and my heart. Part of me wants to know everything, but I’m not sure I can take much more pain.

Marshall eventually sits in the single chair beside me. He leans over, his fingers tentatively hovering near my face, giving me a chance to pull away. When I don’t, he smiles and pushes my hair away from my eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, and I feel his pain radiating from him. “I never gave up. Dmitry never gave up.”

The tears flow down my cheeks, soaking into the fluffy blanket resting over my knees. I swallow hard, trying to rid the lump in my throat. “Please, Marshall, I can’t hear his name right now.”

He nods in understanding. “Just know we’ll make this right, Tori. They’ll pay for everything they’ve done to you.” He takes a breath before adding, “You were never crazy.” He laughs. “Maybe a little unhinged at times, but you were never crazy,” he teases.

I sniffle a laugh as I swipe at my tears, dreading to think how puffy my eyes are after all the crying I’ve been doing recently. “You must have a lot of questions,” he says, “and I’ll try my best to answer from what I know. We’re still piecing a lot of it together.”

I nod, wrapping my arms around myself. “Where did the notes come from?”