Vera the Mistress
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Vera looked at the sleeping lover with tenderness and reverence, she stroked his hands and hair, hugged him, smelled his skin. Trying not to look at the wedding ring on her right hand, she looked at her hand, at her empty ring finger, and dreamed, dreamed, dreamed…
– Hello, Vera. Hello, can you hear me?
Vera paused with the phone at the kitchen window. She knew that voice; she would have recognized it from hundreds, from thousands of voices. She had heard that voice from his phone for almost nine months, when she made him coffee, when she vacationed with him abroad, when she lay in bed with him, and each time two snakes somewhere deep inside raised their heads and hissed furiously.
There was no point in hanging up; Vera knew it was Her.
– Yes. Hello, I can hear you.
– This is Arina, Oleg's wife. Can I meet you and talk to you?
Chapter 5
Vera was sitting at a table in a restaurant and nervously swiping the Instagram. Today, in particular, she was not interested in stars, and in general, the children of her fat classmates. Her photo from Courchevel received a huge number of likes and comments, at first she was pleased, even flattered that so many friends from her town are jealous of her beautiful and rich life. But even they today did not warm the tormented soul of the night before the conversation with his wife.
"Good afternoon, Vera. My name is Arina. I don't think you forgot.
Across the table sat a beautiful woman in her mid-thirties, a striking brunette. A black bob accentuated high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes, and pear-shaped diamonds glittered on long fingers. Arina smelled of wealth and paradise. The white blouse revealed a chic cleavage that was barely contained by lace and sexy as hell bra.
Vera had never felt so pathetic in her life. She did not understand Oleg and understood herself by contacting him.
– Good day, Vera! Nice to meet you! – Arina so sincere and radiant smile that Vera was not alone. In another situation, she would have admired the woman and tried to win her trust. But not now.
Strange feeling, Vera's lower belly ached so much that she thought about her period. Ah, no, it was a week ago, there were no problems after the abortion, and the tests were excellent. But a twinge of pain twisted Vera in the ram's horn.
"Is something wrong?" Arina raised an eyebrow, feigning sympathy.
– No.. Vera, barely breathing, got up from the table and hobbled to the toilet on half-bent legs.
Down below was dark and cool. The concept of light on the walls made the lighting near the toilet mysterious, even mystical. Vera tore out the tomato juice and vodka and took a deep breath. Her heart was pounding. After flushing the water, she went out to wash. Redwater flowed from the tap.
– Ahhh! Vera yelled and jumped back to the wall. Empty bathroom only answered with an echo. The toilet was underground, on the floor below, so the sounds of vomiting, love, and water draining were not heard by any of the visitors.
The girl went to the tap, the pain in the lower abdomen did not subside, there was a fire as if someone had impaled the uterus and fried it from all sides.
Vera turned on the tap and made sure that the water was the usual clear color. She washed her face with cold water for a long time, and then raised her head. Instead of her face, a three-month-old fetus with no visible organs or body parts stared back at her, as if a textbook image had been placed on her head. The embryo nodded at her and seemed to shake a semblance of ahead.
Vera woke up in a familiar clinic. The drawing of the white walls would not be confused with any drawing in the world. Anatoly Ivanovich opened the familiar door and said Hello.
– Well, Vera, how are you feeling?
– Good day, Anatoly Ivanovich! What happened?
"Should I ask you why you've been brought in the unconscious for the second time?"
"I, I don't know.
– Fortunately, ArinaPetrovna called me and we saved you in time.
At the name of Oleg's wife, Vera had such a painful spasm in the lower abdomen that she again lost consciousness. It was only in her delirium that it seemed to her that a tall and devilishly beautiful brunette with a bob was hugging her doctor, kissing him, and taking off her medical gown.
Chapter 6
ArinaPetrovnaZlatykh was the only and favorite daughter of the head of the largest Gypsy clan.
Perst, that is his real gypsy name, but not gypsies called him Peter Zlatykh, accepted and acknowledged the only child from the most beautiful and most beloved wife, Dana.
Perst was afraid of Dana's mother, a hereditary witch, so in front of the entire camp announced that Dana was his only wife, and the daughter that Dana gave birth to in the first year, Ara – the only heir.
PerstZlatykh was a real gypsy of the hottest blood. Already at ten, he slaughtered a young man (in the post-Soviet criminal world they call them “fraer”) in the market, and at sixteen went to collect his camp, in other words, organized a criminal group in the South of Moscow City. Perst was about fifty (although no one knew how old he really was) when he took the eighteen-year-old Dana, who was his last and favorite wife.
As soon as Ara was born, Perst has registered her as ArinaPetrovnaZlatykh and translated into the only recognized and legitimate daughter, and all movable and immovable property.
The times were dashing, and there were many young and zealous candidates for his throne. Traitors were punished by the Baron, who himself sentenced them to death, and the sentence was immediately carried out. But in their place came new leaders who demanded a greater share of the sale of drugs, influence on businesses from beggars. The new heads of his armies tried to create their own brothels from prostitutes who came from all over the vast homeland.
The Baron feared every day that he would die, leaving little Ara alone to be devoured by the hungry wolves of the pack. He trusted only one person. To his Deputy, SuleymanKaysarov. It was the leader of the Gypsy mafia who instructed him to take her abroad, to the United States.