Loyalty is a Decision

A brief pause, her gaze shifting toward where the French lingered. “I can only protect you so much.”

She did care about Lyudmila's well being. "A drink?"

Izabele had slipped away from the brightest part of the Conservatory, the champagne and laughter fading into something softer beneath the glass ceiling.

She didn’t turn when she heard Nadya’s familiar steps.

“You always look like you’d rather be anywhere else at events like this,” she said gently, a faint smile curving her lips. “Tell me — who worries you more tonight? The bidders, or the men being bid on?”

There may be a truce between them tonight, but trust was another matter entirely.

“You shouldn’t be wandering off on your own.” A slight shrug of her shoulder. “Nothing, really. I’m more interested in what Lyudmila is bidding on.”

Maksim sauntered, hand sliding down the silk of his suit, the smoke hanging from lips. Cold air, exactly what he needed. Business was going well when it came to his bar, small, isolated, dive-like. Just what he'd needed, a space to conquer that was his own. Being away from it? Even for a night, felt odd. Maksim had been living and breathing in the space as of recently. A night away was needed, the only reason he'd agreed to do this shit. Last time, well...a sigh fell from his lips. It'd been damn near perfect.

He stumped out the smoke and lit another.

Maksim saw her the second the doors opened. "Hello, Nadz."

"Maks." She greeted him, stepping towards him. "I hope those bidding on your date are acceptable."

Only then did Lyudmila became attentive to Nadezhda´s presence, as well as the presence of the two more Russians sitting in the front.

No other guests came with similar accessories.

Even if desensitized to their shadows trailing her life, a single glance at Nadezhda´s face was enough to remind Lyudmila that divorce did not mean release. Konstantin’s gravity still held. She merely orbited at a greater distance.

“I am starving. I never have time to eat properly at these functions,” the woman sighed, her eyes dipping to the watch adorning her wrist before lifting again to the darkening sky beyond the window. “Join me—and ditch the comrades. I am done feeling like a state secret under armed escort.”

“The food is terrible anyway,” she muttered. The functions lately lacked what they once had....the quality had noticeably declined.

She didn’t miss the way Lyudmila lowered her gaze before turning to look out the window. Nadezhda’s head tilted subtly at the sight, her eyes briefly flicking toward the men in the front.

Was it pity she felt?

“Take a right,” she said. Her place wasn’t far, and if she was going to leave the others behind, she’d at least be driving her own car.