One year later
Roman looked down at the photo. It made his guts burn with fury every time he saw her picture. Especially if she was smiling or doing something that made her happy. The soft, blond hair – longer now, past her shoulder blades – was cut stylishly with cute short bangs. Wide azure eyes that begged for help, sucking the rich into her schemes, begging to take their expensive goods, never knowing it was she that walked away with their paintings, eating up the foreign countries with those incredibly gorgeous legs. Yet still, he asked for these pictures. Every day he wanted confirmation of her movements. He still loved her. Unequivocally and without reservation. There was no other woman for him.