The Russian’s Secret Love Child – Brandy’s Story
A BWWM Billionnaire Romance
I nervously toyed with the small porcelain mask I was given. The silver along the edge was starting to come loose from my handling it, and the plumage that jutted from the top was beginning to bend slightly. Still, I felt that nobody would notice the small wear and tear at the masquerade party.
My driver wasn’t particularly chatty, which was probably for the best, as my Russian was still a little rusty. So, I took out my phone again and checked the time. It was just a little past eight in the evening. The night air slipping through the slightly-open window was crisp and refreshing, and it helped me clear my head a little.
The car turned down a driveway, and we passed a pair of ornate iron gates. We came to a full stop, and a pair of well-dressed and muscular men approached the window.
“Invitation,” they ordered.
I pulled the glossy paper invitation from my clutch purse and held it up.
The talkative of the two men snatched it and examined it for a moment before passing it back.
“Enjoy your evening,” he said.
I nervously rolled the window up and affixed the mask to my face. I really doubted that it would hide my real identity. My gown for the evening left little to the imagination, and the mask wouldn’t hide my dark skin.
As we continued to drive, the estate came into view. It was possibly the largest house I’d ever laid eyes on. It may as well have been called a castle, as the brickwork alone made it appear to be so. Massive windows stared at anything that dared pass their gaze, and it felt like it wasn’t just the windows doing the staring. Lights erupted from the house as though a beacon, both warning and inviting travelers. Guests walked to and fro, drinks in hand and masks planted on their faces, making merry around the looming castle of a house.
We came to a stop, and my door was tugged open by a well-dressed attendant whom also wore a mask. He provided me a hand and assisted me from the car. My heart began to beat a little harder as my nerves continued to surmount. I inhaled deeply and exhaled, pushing back the nerves for another moment. I had been in situations like this before and wasn’t about to lose my composure.
I strolled up the red carpet leading into the manor with an aloof gaze and curious mind. I had been to gala’s and gallery openings, but this was something to behold.
People danced and drank without a care, I couldn’t say I really recognized anyone, but that feeling was quite liberating. I wanted to commence my own drinking, but my situation held me back.
“I see you’ve arrived fashionably late,” said a man’s voice from behind.
I recognized the voice quite easily as Viktor’s, the man who was kind enough to send me the invite and the mask.
“A girl needs to look her best for these sorts of things,” I replied. I began to turn but his arms caught me and held me in place.
“You needn’t have worked so hard, knowing what’s under that dress would make any man weep with joy.”
“Yes, but I find it best to wear clothing when I’m still easily recognized,” I replied.
“I need to speak with you in private,” he said. “Follow me to my study.”
I nodded. He released me and pushed his way through the opulent crowd while I followed. As we made our way, I couldn’t help but get the feeling that I was being watched. I looked about, and nothing seemed completely out of place, considering the party, except I noticed one person standing near the library with a drink in hand that tried his best not to make eye contact.
I didn’t have much time to think about the stranger as I was being shoved into a small office room that opened beneath the entry stairs. Viktor closed the door and twisted the key.
The room was surprisingly quiet and very cozy. A desk sat in the middle of the room with a high-backed leather chair protruding from behind. In front of the desk stood two smaller leather chairs. The wood paneling adorned the walls, and rich green carpet stained the floor.
Viktor dropped the key and bent down to kiss me deeply. I craned my neck to reach him, standing on my tip-toes as I did. His lean muscular arms grasped me tight as I melted into them.
He massaged his arm down my bare-backed dress, but I stopped him before he could go any lower.
“I’m here to talk, and it’s rather important,” I said.
“I have much to say to you as well, have a seat.”
I sat myself in the smaller of the chairs; Viktor walked to a nearby decanter and poured himself a glass of Cognac before sitting himself next to me.
“I hope you like the party, it was the only way I could think to get you here without pretenses,” he started.
“You are having this party because you couldn’t just invite me to come over?” I asked.