A smug smirk played on the thin male lips when the gaze of cold grey eyes caught her graceful movement. The silver shine of the steel pylon shimmered in the bright lights of the nightclub. She felt a little dizzy; his gaze was heavy yet interested.

Yes, handsome. He showed off so much. The girl was certain that he had enough money on his bank cards to satisfy all her material needs⎯a man who enjoyed the finer things in life and knew how to acquire them. Could he buy her? Absolutely, without any doubt.

She knew how to play this game, and she was ready to see how far her interest⎯and his wallet⎯would take her.

Vadim grins, toying with a toothpick between his pearly white teeth as she twirls in front of him in the club's VIP room. “You are happy today. Are you getting married?” he jokes casually, stuffing a hundred quid between the velvety skin and the thin strip of silk.

Such a fool. If she gets married, it will only be to him. Who is she, and who is he? He only discovered her name six months later, after attending her dances. Therefore, she must bite back her dreams and press her sweet lips between her elegant fingers, rolling them as she tries to stifle her absurd hopes.

The glittering sequins of the ‘modest’ outfit catch the dim light, splashing fleeting sparkles around the room, while bare hips sway with each movement.

He still meets her in this vomit room, where under ultraviolet light, you see the whole spectrum of bodily fluids. She feels offended because the unclosed gestalt scratches at her heart like the claws of an angry feline. Well, there is a husband, and she is a wife, and then⎯

Surprise. The room reeks of stale sweat and spilt drinks; the sticky floor speaks of countless forgotten nights. The fantasy of a perfect domestic life taunts her, a cruel mirage among the squalor.

Tears scald her cheeks, and he is shocked.

She's a daft girl.

“Lost your marbles?” Vadim hisses, gently taking her hands and carefully sitting her on his lap. “And what kind of crybaby concerto is this, my snotty?”