Page 117 of Marrying My Ex's Brother
I stand there for a second longer than I should. Then I go toward Irina.
At least, I mean to.
But as I come closer, I hear voices from the small alcove behind a line of tall flower arrangements. Irina, Lena, and two other women from my old circle stand partly hidden near the champagne table.
I slow.
They have not seen me.
“Anyway,” Irina says, “did you see the emerald necklace in lot twenty-three?”
“The old Romanov-style piece?” one of the women asks.
“Yes. It’s stunning.”
Lena sighs. “Everyone has noticed it. The bidding will be insane.”
“I heard Katya has her eye on it,” Irina says.
My breath catches.
There’s a small laugh. “Of course she does.”
“And Dmitri will get it for her,” Irina continues. “He always gets what he wants.”
My footsteps slow.
“I still can’t believe she actually came,” Irina says.
“She had to,” another woman replies. “What else could she do? Hide forever?”
Lena’s voice is lower. “Be fair. Dmitri humiliated her.”
“And she married his brother a week later?” Irina says. “That’s not dignity. That’s desperation and she’s always been that way.Now don’t look at me, Lena. You know she’s not one of us. Her father is a pathetic bootlicker.”
I stop walking. My fingers tighten around the champagne glass.
One of the women laughs softly. “Did you see the way Yaromir looked at her? Maybe desperation works.”
“Please,” Irina says. “Men like Yaromir don’t marry girls like Anya because they’re in love.”
“No one said love.”
“Exactly. She’s a message. A pretty one.”
My throat tightens. That’s all I’ll be to these women. A gold-digger, and an intruder.
Lena says, “She looked beautiful.”
“Of course she did,” Irina answers. “That was always her talent.”
The cruelty of that almost makes me laugh. Because I know exactly what she means.
Pretty Anya.
Quiet Anya.
Perfect Anya.
