Aren’t We Supposed to Be Engaged?

(IVANNA)

We pull up to the front of the club entrance. Maksim, our driver of the evening, isn't too pleased by this stop, but we promise him that we will stay for just an hour. I'm sure that he has already filled in the capo on our plans for tonight, but I don't care. As soon as I step out of the car, the bass is already thumping in my chest, but I don't care.

Karlen ignores the long line out front and shakes hands with the man at the door. Then we are inside. The sound in her is loud and several lights flash from above to the wide dance floor. There are bodies everywhere. Young vibrant Russians enjoying life, none of them being forced into marriages that they didn't want.

I long to lose myself in them, even if it will be for just an hour.

"Would you like a drink?" Karlen asks me over the loud music.

"No," I shout back. "I'd rather dance."

"Come on then."

He takes my hand and leads me into the dance floor. All my life, I have been to a club just once, a secret outing with a girlfriend from school. Except, I didn't enjoy the night one bit. I spent most of the time looking over my shoulder, fearing that my father' men would appear behind my back at any minute. I couldn't relax, and I ended up leaving the club earlier than I had expected.

I will not make the same mistake. Tonight, I will make the most out of this outing, and Karen will have to carry me out of here screaming.

We begin to writhe and dance on the floor like the rest of the crowd, pressing on random strangers but staying close to each other. He doesn't try to grind on me, which I'm grateful for. Most guys tend to cop feelings while dancing, taking advantage of the close proximity to grind on a woman's body. Thankfully, Karlen doesn't.

He will have access to my body soon enough.

I let my eyes close and sway, trying to forget where I am and why I ended up here. For somebody who hates crowded places, I should be miserable on the cramped dance floor, but something about the music and anonymity keeps me at ease, and gives me a slight feel of freedom.

The songs blur together, one after the other. Karlen can really move, and the people around us, men and women alike, take notice. I don't feel the least bit jealous. Not even when some random woman runs her hand all over his back.

He looks at me, probably to gauge my reaction. So I give him a thumbs up. "Yes, Karl." I shout. "Get it."

He shakes his head, though his lips twitch. "Aren't we supposed to be engaged?"

I hold my left hand up. "I don't see a ring."

He laughs and comes closer to me. "There's an associate in the VIP whom I want to speak to. Would you like to come with me, or would you prefer to stay here?"

"Definitely stay here." I have zero desire to be pulled into the Dvina Vory business any sooner than I need to. Hopefully never.

"I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't move."

He disappears into the crowd and I keep dancing my ass off. Because I'm wearing three-inch heels, my feet hurt already. But I don't care. I might as well make the most out of this outing if we are just going to stay for one hour. I spin and twirl, and just let the music carry me off to someplace where nothing matters. Somewhere where I'm free.

Many songs later, I'm surprised that Karlen hasn't returned. My feet throb and my throat feels dry. I take a break and try to see if I can find him in the VIP section, and maybe sit for a while and get myself some water to drink.

The man that's guarding the VIP section barely gives me a passing glance, dismissing me instantly. "Sir," I yell loudly, waving a hand on his face. "I'm with Karen. Karlen Sakharov. I believe he is upstairs?"

The man moves no muscle. "Nice try."

"No, really. In with Karlen." I'm forced to say out the words that I loathe most. "He's my fiancé. I'm Ivanna Sidorova."

"Really? You are miss Sidorova?" the man blinks then transfers his wide doe eyes on me."

"Yes."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." He then lifts the rope for me. "I didn't know."

I guess word had already gotten around that I'm engaged to Karlen. I'm not sure whether I should be horrified or grateful at that news. "Thank you." I say then head upstairs.

My toes scream with pain when I reach a landing. I glance around. Karen isn't here. This is odd. He said he will be up here. Or did I miss a turn? Or even downstairs? I look over the railing into the crowd below. Still no sign of him. Hmm.

I turn and notice that there is a darker section that looks like it is wrapped around the side of a small room. Is it an office? Maybe. I hope to God that Karlen isn't beating up somebody in there, or worse, being beaten up.

I decide to take a peek. The narrow hallway is empty, but I see something even better. A dimly lit exit sign. I hold my breath. My heart pounds harder on my chest than it did on the dance floor. No one is around. I can slip out of that door and disappear into Tyva. Far away from the Sakharovs.

But do I dare?

My feet are already moving before I can stop myself. In my bones, I know that this is my only chance to escape. I slip along the edge of the wall and push on the heavy metal bar that would operate the door. It cracks open silently and the cold night air whooshes over my legs. I edge into the darkness, determined to flee―and I come to an abrupt halt.

Karlen and another man are locked in an embrace in the fire escape, kissing each other like the world is about to end. Their cocks are both out, rubbing together as their hips grind and churn.

Shit. Karlen likes men!

I try to step back without drawing any attention to myself, but I must have failed. "Ivanna," he hisses and lunges to yank up his pants, but I'm already hurrying through the door and back into the club.

"I'm sorry." He shouts before the door shuts behind me.

Is Karlen going to be mad at me for interrupting his business? I race through the VIP lounge, trying to keep as much distance as I can between me and him. A potentially angry mobster. It's really none of my business if Karlen likes men, or women, or both. I honestly don't care.

But does his father know?

Probably not. While the queer community has made strides in recent years, the mafia, especially the Russian mafia, isn't exactly woke. They are still very old school and would quietly murder the gay members of their families just to avoid embarrassment. I've heard rumors about soldiers who were killed for their sexual preferences.

Maybe Karlen will kill me, now that I have learnt his secret.