I WAS DRUNK. PROBABLY MORE DRUNK than I'd ever been before. And, it came to my attention as the room span in and out of focus, that I was also alone.
I didn't know where Lena had gone, or how long it had been since I'd last seen her. What I did know was that being drunk actually felt pretty damn amazing, and I wanted to drink even more!
I sidled up to the bar where a few people were sat and climbed onto one of the stools, wobbling and nearly falling in the process. Was it me, or was the floor shaking? It definitely wasn't stable under my feet. I had to grip the bar for dear life!
"A fishbowl," I requested of the waiter who was dressed in an immaculate tux. He was actually pretty handsome, if I thought about it...he had the same dark hair and stubble as Alex, though his eyes were a flatter shade of brown and his cheeks were slightly pudgy...
The waiter glanced at me nervously, probably wondering if it was a good idea to provide me with more alcohol. I did my best imitation of Lena that I could, fluttering my lashes and smiling. It probably didn't work quite as well, but I could be sexy...right?
The waiter turned around and began assembling my drink, throwing all sorts of dangerous concoctions into the bowl. I watched, dazed, wondering how he'd suddenly managed to acquire another two copies of himself to help him with the job. He was amazing!
"Fifteen pounds," all three of the waiters requested at the same time. How they managed to be so synchronised was just beyond me.
I fumbled with my purse, cursing the expensive nature of club drinks and struggling to differentiate between five, ten, fifteen and twenty pound notes. Eventually I just grabbed a handful and threw them at one of the waiters, but to my dismay they went straight through him.
"Shit," I cursed, giggling as the three of them set about collecting the money from the floor.
"This is too much, Miss," the waiter said, thrusting a few notes back over the bar but I shook my head and pushed him away, allowing my touch to linger.
"Keep the change."
I took a sip of the fish bowl. Well, technically it was more like a gulp or three but who's counting? Certainly not me since I couldn't remember what came after four! Was this fish bowl stronger? It certainly tasted funny - bitter and sharp at the same time. Ah well, best to drink it quickly then.
"You might want to slow down, there," the three waiters said to me anxiously, their bodies twisting and spinning around my field of vision. How odd! Was this an added part of their duties, to entertain?
Either way, their concern over my fish bowl was charming. I leaned an elbow on the bar and pressed my head to my hand, sighing sweetly at each of them individually. "This is so nice," I sighed. Never mind that my whole fish bowl was almost finished. I gestured to the three waiters again. "Another, kind Sirs!"
"Um..." they all gulped, eyeing me nervously. Did I have something on my face? I wiped at the corners of my mouth self-consciously but still their stares persisted.
Just then, I felt someone tap me on the arm. It was a man in his mid-thirties at a guess, with a crinkled white shirt on and a tie that had been loosened to dangle more like a noose. "Why don't you find someone else to get you a drink?" he said sternly. It didn't sound like a question. His face was grizzly and agitated, and there was only one of him, though his whole body was swaying from side to side. The way his cold eyes glared right through me made me shudder.
"Yeah," I hiccuped, then covered my mouth with embarrassment. "Good idea...find somewhere else..."
I climbed down from the bar stool shakily and looked around the spinning room. Where on earth had Lena gone? She was missing out on all the fun. Though it wasn't so much fun when the floor kept trying to throw me around. I mean, sure I was a little drunk...but not that drunk!
Suddenly overcome by a wave of nausea, I closed my eyes and tried to steady my breathing but that only made it worse. Darkness spun around me endlessly, the floor continuing its rage until I was forced to open my eyes just in time to put my hands out and stop myself from crashing into a wall. Apparently I'd crossed the room, making it all the way to the next ramp up. I stared out through the concrete balcony and realised just how high up I was - way too high up to look down. I ducked away and crouched against the solid wall, gladly reminding myself that I wasn't going to fall. When had I climbed up so many levels?
I rubbed my eyes with my hands balled into fists, hoping I could force them into seeing straight. It didn't matter that my makeup was now probably smudged all over my face, I didn't care. I'd fit in with the grungy indie crew, maybe, or maybe everyone else would be too drunk to notice. Good job I was sober enough to think these things through?
The floor gave another buck shoving my back into the concrete, narrowly missing a collision with my head. All around me feet danced way too close, bodies too close, everything spinning...
I needed to get somewhere quiet. Desperately.
Up the ramp I noticed that there was a corrugated metal wall with a door cut into the side. It wasn't open like the rest of the levels, and a burly looking bouncer stood right next to it looking out across the party with mean eyes. I bet that door leads to the roof! It must be a private, VIP area! I bet it's quieter there! If I didn't escape all this noise and all these people soon I was fairly sure I was going to hurl.
Shakily, I got to my feet and, pushing the concrete wall for support, I made my way up the ramp. It was slow progress since the floor was so eager for me to not be on it anymore, and the bouncer watched me the whole time with those terrifying eyes of his.
When I was about two meters away, I came to a wobbly stand still. "Sir!" I announced. "Would you kindly let me through that door?"
"No."
I was stumped. "Um, what?"
"No." Was that an accent I detected? His voice was thick and deep, he could easily have been speaking in another language.
His declination, of course, fell on deaf ears. "But look!" I thrust my wrist out in front of his face. "I have a wristband!" He glared at my arm like he might break it in half, but I wasn't about to give up just yet. "You must let me through."
"Really?" His eyes widened and I thought yes! This is working! "Well, in that case...no."
"Why not?" I whined, half way to stomping my foot like a toddler. Didn't this man realise there were four of him staring back at me?
"Private quarters." He shrugged.
"So?"
The bouncer's eyes stayed focused out on the crowd, not even glancing in my direction for a second. "So you are not permitted past this point," he explained very slowly, practically enunciating each syllable as though I was a little kid.
"How do you know if I'm on the guest list when you haven't even asked my name?" I challenged, folding my arms victoriously.
"There is no guest list."
Oh. But just how exclusive was this part of the club for it to not even have a guest list? Surely that meant a very small, select number of people were permitted past the steely guard - but why? I was desperate to know now, even through my alcohol flooded veins a burning curiosity pulsed like wildfire.
"If there's no guest list, then how can you possibly know I shouldn't be in there?"
Finally the bouncer graced me with the privilege of his stony gaze, which swept from the top of my head right down to my heel-clad feet. His hand then swept the same path in a wide gesture. "Look, Miss. You look like a good, classy woman-"
"Exactly-"
"-so I'm gonna be straight with you." I abruptly closed my mouth and prepared for whatever straight might, in fact, be. The bouncer leaned closer as he spoke. "You don't belong here-"
"Behind that door, or-"
"-here," he re-emphasised, gesturing outwardly. "This place, it isn't what it seems."
"It's not a club?"
"Yes." He rolled his eyes. "And also no. I've said too much!" Suddenly he clasped a hand over his mouth and his eyes swept the room nervously.
"No, not at all!" I urged. "Continue!"
The bouncer shook his head disconsolately. "Alexei will have my balls for this!"
"Listen, pal," I said, done at last with being nice. "Alexei will have your balls if you don't let me in, and you know what he's like, so you'd better prepare to be castrated if you don't open that damn door." I poked my finger sharply at his chest for good emphasis, noting internally that whoever this Alexei fellow was, I hoped he wasn't in that room. Even from my made up story about him, he sounded like the type of guy you wouldn't want to meet down a dark alley at night. Let alone in a private room.
"You know the Krestniy Otets?" the bouncer asked incredulously, his voice switching from a rough cockney accent so something foreign sounding.
(The Russian equivalent of capo di tutti capo a.k.a "boss of bosses")
"Um..." I trailed off hesitantly. Of course the real answer was no, but the room was still spinning and I was pretty sure I was about to hurl. Anything was a better alternative than staying out here; I needed to get through that door. "Of course I do!" I snapped, clapping my hands together for good effect. "What the hell do you think I'm stood here for?"
At last the solitary bouncer jumped to life, scrambling to reach for the lever that would open the door. He hit the heel of his palm into his forehead. "Derr'mo!"
(Shit!)
I wanted to ask what language he kept speaking but I quickly bit my tongue; revealing my lack of knowledge would only blow my cover. Supposedly, I knew this Alexei personally. I had to act natural, though the bouncer's warning kept ringing through my head irritatingly: you don't belong here. But where was here, and what exactly was I walking into? All I needed was to get to the roof, where it would be quiet and I could breathe properly. Maybe then everything would stop spinning and the ground beneath my feet wouldn't be so against my being here anymore.
The bouncer gripped the lever in his big hands and shot me an unreadable look that made me shudder. "Apologies," he said, throwing his weight against the lever until the door flew open with a great cracking sound.
With a final, deep sigh, I stepped through the doorway praying that through it I would find solitude, and maybe a couple of aspirin.
What I found instead was infinitely less favourable; a group of six men and a table full of guns.
I scanned the whole room quickly - much faster than I thought possible. It was small, the floors were made of marble and the walls were plain white. In the middle was a large, rectangular table made of thick wood. A green velvet cloth sat on top of it, and on top of that there were gambling chips in neat stacks. Each man sat around the table, a gun beside one hand and a whisky beside the other.
I opened my mouth to scream but instead found it forming the name of the man with whom my eyes were locked: Alex. Two years later and there he sat at the head of the table, his suave suit replacing the memory of him in a salmon pink tee. Never mind that all the other men were staring; never mind that most of them wore half naked women around their waists or spun knives between their fingers, just like Alex had two years ago. I was frozen.
Too frozen to react when one of the men picked up his gun. Too focused on Alex; his stubble that had grown a little thicker, his eyes that seemed even darker, yet his face equally handsome and perfectly carved.
"Grace," he breathed quietly, sharply, his voice stuck somewhere between surprise and warning. He had an accent, I noticed, that hadn't been there before. But I didn't have time to marvel at that. I didn't have time to marvel at the sheer improbability of him, of this moment, of anything at all, because the man to the left of Alex aimed his gun at me.
He pulled the trigger.
So apparently I'm one of those writers who leaves you hanging now...sorry;)
I am honestly having SO much fun with this story. Really. I love it, I love Grace, and I love those of you who leave me lots of wonderful comments (seriously, it makes my day).
I'm going to apologise in advance because the next couple of chapters might not be very Alexei-Grace orientated but no matter how frustrating that might be I don't want to rush the story. I can promise you that yes, there will be some intense moments between them, a lot of intense moments in fact, there will be passion and danger and...love?.... but you're just going to have to wait for that, because it doesn't happen overnight. Hope you'll stick with the story though!
Also, an important note: I don't speak Russian (no shit) so unfortunately I'm having to use the internet for translations. And, especially since the language has entirely different letters to those of English, it's extremely likely that the translations are inaccurate. Obviously if you do happen to speak the language politely correct me by all accounts! But alas for now you'll have to forgive me.
As always, recommend Alexei & Grace to others if you're enjoying it, let me know what your thoughts are, and don't forget to vote🌟