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164 pages, Kindle Edition
Published July 14, 2023
I wondered uncomfortably if I was lying to myself about being a nice, normal person. There was something about Andrei that ripped through my skin and tore through me, exposing me as made out of the same dark materials he was.
“Dear Dr. Cerise St. Just, this is a job offer. You will get paid $2.5 million American dollars to move to Russia and marry my son Andrei Petrovic. Don’t ask questions.”
I might as well have let Cerise St. Just stab me. Because she gutted and carved me open either way.
I wanted every dirty, disgusting, unwholesome thing he was into. I wanted every wrong and bad thing. I wanted his hands on me, hard and harsh.
“Go slowly!” I protested.
“Shut up,” he replied, spreading my cheeks with one big hand.
“Oh fuck, Cerise. You feel too good. Shit, I can’t go slowly.”
I had always been the good girl, the responsible girl, the cautious girl. And now at 30 years old I was flat broke with no boyfriend, and I lived in a leaky fleabag apartment. Maybe I would never get another chance to do something wild and unexpected.
“In America we say ‘hello,’” I said.
His lips twisted. “In my territory, I take what I want. And I want you.”
I had recently broken up with my boyfriend, who had quit his job to focus on bitcoin.
I’m not going back to him just because he committed an unhinged murder on live television.