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black dress. It is a second hand buy, but it is of good quality with a classy slim silhouette. I zip up, brush my hair, and put on my make-up. Mascara, red lipstick, and the look is complete. Stepping into thin gold sandals, I go to the living room.

Konstantin is standing on the terrace balcony looking out over the city. He is dressed in a charcoal suit.

“Hey,” I whisper.

He turns. For an instant I see a flash of something in his eyes, then the look is gone, replaced by the cool, distant expression he usually sports.

“You look beautiful,” he compliments, his voice smooth, deep, powerfully masculine. No wonder all those women go crazy for him.

“I hate it when you steal all my lines,” I whisper.

He walks up to me. “Think I’m beautiful, huh?”

“Yeah.” I reach out and palm his crotch. He is as hard as a rock. “Wow! You’re happy to see me.”

His nostrils flare. “All the time. All the fucking time.”

“Do you want to miss dinner and let me take care of this little problem?”

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry, it’ll keep until after dinner. I’ve got a long night of fucking planned for you, little Raine. You’ll need to be fed and full of energy for it.”

“Mmm… I can hardly wait.”

The club is so close by we walk to it. It has no bouncers standing outside it, or velvet ropes. It is a discreet door, which opens as if by magic as soon as we approach it. Inside a man greets Konstantin by name and takes us deeper into the interior. The sultry eggplant and red cocktail bar he seats us in has a cozy, intimate allure. There are candles in red glass jars on the tables. Some exotic music, perhaps Japanese or Oriental, is playing softly in the background.

A waiter brings a silver dish with a butternut squash on it. Tucked into the hollow of the cooked squash, he tells us, is imperial Oscietra caviar. However, the squash is not just for ornamental purposes. There are little spoons with which we are supposed to peel the sweet buttery flesh of the squash and eat with the glossy black pearls.

A bottle of champagne is opened and our glasses filled with the straw liquid. I am struck by the waste. We drank one glass from a whole bottle on the plane, one glass each from the bottle in the room, and now another bottle has been opened. We are given menus to study. A quick glance tells me that the food here is going to be nothing like anything I am used to.

Game terrine with crab apple jelly, Cornish crab salad with rock samphire, Venison Wellington.

I also notice the menus have no prices. I suppose I should have expected that, with it being a private club and everything. I stare at him, mesmerized by the fantasy of being able to afford absolutely anything you want in life.

I lean forward. “Not knowing the prices of what I’m ordering is killing me.”

He lifts a finger to summon a waiter. The speed with which the man arrives at his side is impressive. “Can I have a menu with prices for the lady, please?”

The waiter’s eyes almost drop out of his head. “Of course,” he mumbles, and scampers away. When he returns with a menu for me, his eyes are carefully blank.

I open the menu and learn that the price is fixed. It is £490.00 per head, which whoa, translates to $671.00. That’s our family food bill for two freaking weeks. I look up at Konstantin and find him watching me, a speculative expression in his eyes, and I realize paying this kind of money for a meal is nothing to him.

At that moment, I decide to stop obsessing about how much everything costs, and simply be grateful for this unexpectedly marvelous gift from the universe. Anyway, it’s only for a weekend and then it will all be over, but there will be no regrets, no hankering for more. I will happily go back to my usual life where every cent is carefully counted and hoarded away so Madison can have her operation.

Konstantin leans back in his armchair. “You said you were saving up for something important. If you don’t mind sharing, what is it?”

I take a deep breath. It is now or never. This is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for. “I’m saving up for my sister, Madison’s operation.”

He stares at me stoically. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She suffered several bouts of cancer, and now she needs to have a bone marrow transplant. The good news is I am a match and can make the donation which means the cost will be almost half. Mom and I have already saved $92,000 and we are working towards another $118,000 more.”

His eyes narrow. “Doesn’t a procedure like that cost a lot more than $200,000?”

“Yes, if it’s done in the States. I’ve found a reputable hospital in Brazil that will do it for that price. The real escalation in cost comes from the long stay, like two to three months, in hospital for her. That’s what makes it impossible for us to get it done in America. The plan is for the three of us to fly out to Brazil. I’ll make the donation. There will be side effects, nothing long lasting, but things like nausea, back and hip pain, headaches, dizziness, fatigue, muscle pain. It means I’ll need a few days to recover. Once I’m back to normal I’ll leave Mom to stay on and take care of Madison while I fly back and keep earning money to make sure all the bills are paid and—”

I stop abruptly because he is beaming at me. His face is filled with pure joy. It is as if I have told a homeless man that he has won the lottery and is now a multimillionaire.

Konstantin

I know I’m grinning like a fool, and this is not at all the reaction anyone would expect when they are telling you

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