Chapter 3
Anastasia Panamarenko was lounging against a dozen pillows in a silk robe with a huge fur collar. In all cream and off white, including her near platinum hair, she looked every bit the diva she was rumored to be. Surrounded by magazines, rumpled clothing, empty snack bags, boxes of candy, stuffed animals, pink envelopes, white ones, and the manila kind, plus all the paper that presumably came out of them, she also looked a little like a white rat in a junk yard.
Sergei closed the door. “These are the officers sent to keep you safe. They will be joining the show.”
“Vy I should care?” Her Russian accent was thick as well.
“So you’re not taking the threat against you seriously?” Ridley asked.
Anastasia shrugged. “Other performers are not allowed in my room. Please go, i***t Ame
