Chapter Two
946 Words
MASHA
When we arrived at the party, I wasn’t new to this world. I grew up in it. So if someone’s brain was blown up from nowhere, it wouldn’t shock me.
My brother was heir to the Russian Mafia. But I hid my identity when I remained behind. I couldn't risk his enemies finding me unprotected, so my father made me a fake ID to use.
It was a pool party and was in full swing. The moment we stepped into view, Matt vanished to God knows where.
Unable to locate him, the only person I knew at the party frustrated me. Like a lost puppy, I stood at the center, unsure of where to go or who to talk to. I didn’t know anyone here. I sure as hell felt like s**t standing and gawking at the place.
Suddenly feeling thirsty with no waiters in sight, the kitchen seemed like a good escape, so I made my way toward it.
It took a while to find it, but I managed and grabbed the first wine bottle I could get my hands on.
Fuck being Martin’s little secret.
I was about to turn when I came face-to-face with the center of tonight's party.
I’d recognize this face anywhere.
Growing up, she was everyone’s crush. Blonde hair, a beautiful face, and a body to kill for. She was the full package, and she knew it.
Standing in front of me, she smiled at me, but I know a b***h face when I see one.
Jane was a lot of things, but not genuine wasn't one of them.
“Look who we have here,” she said mockingly sweetly. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Masha. Thought you'd be home reading a book or something.”
“Nope. Came to take a front row seat and watch you being the w***e you are.”
“That's tough talk for someone so desperate for attention. I mean, even after seven years, Matt is still obsessed with me. All it will take is a tear for him to rain hell on you.” She taunted, “Wanna test the theory?” Her eyes challenged.
Before I could answer, Jane leaned in a little too close, her eyes flickering with something dark. She stepped forward, pulled my arm, and dug her nails into my skin and pulled back, making me yelp in pain.
“What the hell!”
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Jane exclaimed, a stupid smile stretching her lips.
“You did that on purpose!” I yelled in pain, but noticed the smile she had on fell, and she fell to the floor crying like she was in pain.
“Masha!” Matt’s voice boomed behind me,
“I’m sorry, Matt, I didn’t mean to-Oh God!” She placed a hand over her mouth and stood, bolting out of the kitchen.
I watched her back retreat with my mouth hanging open..
It was like watching a soap opera live.
But the shock didn’t end there; Matt didn’t even spare me another glance as he rushed out, leaving me without taking a second glance at my bleeding arm.
I don’t even know how I got home. My mind was a fog, my body running on autopilot as I dragged myself upstairs.
I couldn’t focus on anything except the searing pain in my heart that hurt more than the pain in my hand. I grabbed a bottle of wine and drowned in it just so I could fall asleep.
The next morning, my heavy eyes fluttered open as the light from the sun blinded me.
I groaned as a hot breath fanned my ear. Some time back, this would have instantly made my stomach flip in excitement, but now it only made my stomach churn, and I felt bile rise to my throat.
I gently pushed him away and rose from the bed so I could create some distance between us.
“Hey,” His tone was gentle as he stepped closer to me, his eyes searching mine. My heart was pounding loudly against my chest, and I faltered for a moment before my eyes darted to the faint lipstick stain on the collar of his shirt.
The sight was a slap in the face, a reminder of his games and my own foolishness.
The scratches on my hand throbbed painfully, but the ache in my chest was worse. Tears prickled the corners of my eyes at the feeling of being used.
Matt was an asshole!
He didn’t come home last night, and the first thing he did this morning was to kiss me when he reeks of another woman with evidence plastered all over his stupid shirt.
“Masha,” he called my name again, his tone shifting to alarm as he noticed my tears. He reached for me, his fingers gentle as he rolled up my sleeve to reveal the angry red on my wrist.
His voice shook with concern.
“How did this happen? When did you get hurt? Why didn’t you tell me?”
For a moment, his worry almost seemed genuine.
Almost.
But I remembered the party, I remembered Jane's cruel games, and Matt not giving a damn about me.
I stayed silent, my gaze fixed on my wrist as he rambled on about God knows what.
Finally, I looked up at him, my voice calm but devoid of emotion.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m sure you have more pressing matters to take care of!”
Before he could respond, I stepped past him, leaving the room and the tangled mess I was in
- Writer
