{The Firelight Chronicles} Alter -Doctor's Orders (girlxgirl) Lesbian Story

Chapter 4: The Russian Beauty

"Fuck. You. Are. So. Dumb." I chanted as I gently pounded my head against the mirror because I wasn't in the mood to bruise myself.

I backed off to inspect my image and raised an eyebrow in an attemp to look menacing, but I had to face it, to most people I would merely look cheeky and cute. I scoffed and let my head fall into the mirror again.

"Why did I do that? Why do I do anything?"

I was referring to the way I tried to flirt with Dr. Cortez lik a 14 year old boy in heat. I had touched her and I was aware of the fact that I could cross very thick lines sometimes. If i was ever going to admit that, this was one of those times.

I flopped myself down on the bed only to hear three swift knocks on the door and my aunt's faint, "May I come in?"

I grunted something along the lines of 'yeah' in response before the door swung open to reveal my aunt in a clad red dress.

"I'm going out, and I think you should do the same, I don't know what happened between you and your ex--"

"She's not my ex."

"Special friend then," she said jeeringly, then she became serious, "I want you to try to be happy. What happened, happened, dear. It's in the past. Try to cheer up and prevent situations like that in the future so you can live a full life, and this could mean your mother will finally get off your back."

"I know, Linda, I'm just... I screw up a lot."

"No niece of mine is a screw up, you get up and try to make the best of the time you've got in this life, okay?"

I gave her a kooky smile, "I'll try."

Aunt Linda's dyed red hair bounced with her laughter, and I noticed she'd fixed herself up nicely.

"It's a start," she replied.

"Where are you going, anyway?"

She patted her hair down absenmindely, "I have a date with a guy name Doug and you should call poor Nina and apologize."

"There's no poor in Nina."

She rolled her eyes, "FIne, Angela then, just go out, kiddo. Talk to your friends."

"I'll call."

She stood up to leave, but as she closed the door she turned and added, "And stop hitting yourself with the mirror, it's expensive."

I chuckled nervously, not knowing how she knew that, "Yes, Auntie Dearest."

***

"Why do you have to be so impulsive?" said Angela as we walked outside the row of gay bars.

"ADHD and anger issues if you ask my mom."

"Well, I'm asking you."

"Nina deserved it."

"Why, though?"

"Did you see her girlfriend, who she looked like?"

"Oh," was all Angela could muster after realizing why I'd hit our friend.

After a few minutes of silence, Angela said, "You think she did it on purpose?"

"Do you even know Nina?"

"She did it on purpose."

The truth was, a year prior, I had met a gorgeous Russian model named Natalya.

Silvery blue eyes, full lips, and straight blonde hair that was almost white had me in a trance since the day I first saw her.

At first, she had been trying to hire me as a model for her agency, but after rejecting the offer a couple of times, we started dating. Everything went by so fast, after two months of being a couple there was even talk of marriage.

However, Natalya Bettsokov's  life was a mystery to me. All I knew was that she was a model and would move around a lot. Also, that she was very, very rich. She'd always become evasive if I asked about her friends or family, so I learned not to because I was head over heels in love with the girl and I had no intention of losing her. We were so happy and everything seemed perfect like in the movies.

Soon, however, I learned the hard way that there was no such thing as a fairy tale relationship.

One fateful night, after hearing her have a heated argument with a family member in Russian, I built up the courage to ask something that had been bothering me.

"Natalya, where did you get all of your money?"

"I've told you before, honey, my mother is a well known plastic surgeon in Europe."

"Can I look her up, then?"

The Russian beauty shifted uncomfortably, "You know I don't like talking about my family."

"Or friends, or your past. I barely know anything about you and you say you want to get married."

"Sometimes, darling, it's best if you don't know the whole truth. The truth can be dangerous."

"Is it because you're gay? Are you afraid your family and friends won't accept you? I know it's very difficult for gay people in Russia."

"It's much more complicated than that."

Deep down, I already knew the truth, but I decided not to pry in order to avoid an argument.

A few days later, Natalya had disappeared. While I was away on a tournament with the Femmes, her belongings had gone from our luxury apartment and there was no trace of her anywhere. Distraught, I called Angela. She came over and held me while I cried myself to sleep, suspecting the worst had happened because I knew why Nat was so evasive about her life. I had been taking Russian lessons online and had caught on to parts of her conversations.

Natalya Bettsokov, was actually Natalya Alexandra Ivankov, mafia princess and billionaire. Her father was one of the leaders of the Bratva, the Russian mafia.

The next morning, as if out of a movie scene, men dressed in black suits knocked on the door to Natalya and I's penthouse and identified themselves as CIA agents. They came brandishing shiny badges, and asked if I could identify my girlfriend in a picture. After confirming that the girl in the pictures was indeed my significant other, they revealed that the modeling agency had in fact been a front for the Solntsevskaya Bratva's division for human trafficking, and had I accepted the job and got on her private plane to London, I would have been taken to Russia as a sex worker.

As for Natalya, I didn't hear from her since and the CIA failed to apprehend her. Turns out billionaires are good at disappearing, who knew.

So far, the only ones who knew the whole story were Angela and Nina, and they both had met my beautiful mafia princess, the girl who almost became my undoing.