Page 33 of Hate to Love You
Someone bumps into my shoulder, her hand landing on my arm. I glare down at her, seeing her mouth move in what I can only assume is an apology. But, there’s no way in hell I can hear a word she’s screaming with the bass as loud as it is.
Ugh. I hate clubs.
I shake my head, too tired to try and read her lips and take off toward the bar, knowing that if anyone would know where Igor is, it’ll be Lizzie.
I weave through the mass of bodies, bumping shoulders and stepping on toes as I head over to the bar. I keep my head down to keep myself as inconspicuous as possible so that I’m not approached by anyone.
I don’t need any attention on me tonight.
As I slide onto the barstool, I tap my freshly done nails against the marble bar top. I twist my body, angling it so that I’m facing the dance floor.
It’s then that I notice to the left there’s a man standing stiffly in front of a set of stairs leading up to a second story loft.
A loft that didn’t exist the last time I was here.
Well… that’s new.
My eyes run across the glass balcony trying to make out who is up there, but between the smoke and the strobe lights, I can’t get a clear view.
I need to get closer.
Impulsively I move, only for Lizzie to grab hold of my arm. She leans across the bar, her breath warming my cheek as she yells in my ear.
“Hey bitch! Long time no fucking see. The usual?”
“Rose martini,” I nod with a smile, glad that Lizzie interrupted me.
“Coming right up!”
Shit! I won’t be able to just walk up those stairs.
That’s when I see him.
A man approaches the rope separating the VIP area at the bottom of the stairs, with a woman to his right.
He’s tall, dark-haired with a tight-fitting suit that hugs his body in all the right ways, his hand is spread against the small of her back, leading her forward. I run my tongue across my teeth as I watch the guard step aside and open the rope.
“Here you go! One rose martini!” Lizzie shouts, as she slides the drink across the bar.
I lean forward, waving her back before she walks away, “What’s up there Liz?” I say, tilting my head towards the stairs.
“Oh, the VIP floor, it opened just this week! Been great for business,” Lizzie replies, she’s so close to me now that I can smell the undertones of her perfume instead of stale beer.
“VIP?”
“Oh yeah, the Antonov family paid for it.”
“Antonov family?”
“Where have you been bitch? They’re only the richest family in the city,” she says with a laugh shaking her head. “They own the place.”
“Never heard of them,” I lie with a shrug, “How does one become a VIP?”
I had heard of them. Igor worked at Nikotech Investments, which was run by the Antonov Family. But I didn’t look too deeply into that, but clearly, I should have.
“Money, baby girl! Money!” She gestures with her hands, as she walks away to serve another customer.
I feel my brow furrow as I try to make sense of what she said.