Nadia: What’s wrong with you lately? I apologized about that last incident . . . “That incident” was the last time I saw her, when she trashed her dressing room in a jealous rage because I didn’t take her up on her note offering a quick blow job during intermission. Nadia: I slept with someone last night. Me: I’m shocked. I wasn’t. Nadia: He went down on me. ® Nadia: It was nice for once... She acted like she was deprived, but I knew she received oral from men and women alike—and often. She just wanted to see me on my knees. I’d rather put my dick through a meat grinder. Pavel stepped closer to show Mila something, his thumb and forefinger holding a chain around his neck. She shied away from his gun as if simply standing near it would make it go off. He’d noticed her necklace and was now showing off his. How cute. Nadia: Ronan... Mila was all smiles, probably speaking fondly of her sadistic papa to the only one here who would listen—and only then because he wanted to get his dick wet. The scene was beginning to annoy the fuck out of me. I wasn’t doing a single thing, but I really didn’t have time for this. I knocked on the glass. When both of their gazes flicked to me, I gave Pavel a treacherous look. He swallowed, said something curt to Mila, and walked off, leaving my muddy captive to glare at me alone. Her transparent eyes must be poisonous. A single look from her pierced my chest and spread something heavy and greedy throughout. My gaze told her, Get inside right now. Her silent response wasn’t important because it didn’t include a hint of “submit,” “slave,” or “anal.” Mila’s glare intensified before she complied and walked toward the front of the house. Nadia: Are you ignoring me because you’re jealous? I ran a thumb across my jaw, not knowing what that felt like, but I improvised. Me: Fuming. Can barely speak. Nadia: You’re a jerk. Me: I’m busy. Stop texting me.