Felicity slammed the door behind her and stormed down the hall of the club, passed several rooms with closed doors even more angry as she heard the muffled moans coming from them. The sounds only added insult to the injury her pride was currently suffering. She blinked several times, keeping tears in, and balled her fists as she made her way back into the main part of the club where a few other lone guests were drinking and getting high. Felicity took a glass from one of the trays a waiter was carrying and settled in at a table, digging in her purse for a cigarette. She lit it and took a drag off of it, her hands shaking. She wanted to calm down, she really did, but the sight of her brother’s drug dealer riding Anatoly filled her with so much rage and she didn’t have anywhere to aim it. She sat there for a while, face emotionless, smoking until the cigarette was gone. She was nursing her drink and composing a text to Elitza when she felt a presence near her. She set her phone on the table looked down quickly when she saw it was Anatoly. “I’m not sure I can look at you right now, Anatoly,” she tried to keep her composure, but her voice shook a bit as she spoke.