Games We Play - Round 1: Never Have I Ever (18+ dark mafia romance)

Chapter 7&8 (Valentina)

Valentina

Chapter 7

Manhattan, New York, United States – November 1st, 2019

Buying cocaine from Aleksi is not how I planned my first day of November to go. But, in my defence, I nearly fell asleep in the club yesterday after driving Raisa's car four hours down to New York. Got to The Plaza, got dressed, got ready to drink, did it all night, and then woke up again to do the same thing today.

Yesterday, Raisa had left with Matteo at some point during the night and Aleksi told me that he'd sleep in her bed. Before we went to sleep early in the morning, I asked him if he could get me a gram of coke for tonight. All he did was nod, say goodnight, and close the door to his adjacent room.

We met in the kitchen and he placed a baggie on the kitchen table before I handed him a hundred-dollar bill.

"It's eighty."

"Really? I thought it went for a hundred."

"Yes, but you're my friend." He told me and I nodded.

"Oh. Okay. Thank you."

He left afterwards, and I was alone for a couple of hours. I decided to take a bath with a glass of champagne and a joint.

The door to the suite shuts and I stand still, putting out the joint in the ashtray.

"Raisa?" I yell, gathering some foam to cover up my body.

"YES!?"

There's a loud noise, then silence, then footsteps coming down the hall. Raisa opens the door, smiling. She looks tired, but happy.

"How was it?" I ask, wiggling my eyebrows.

"Ugh, so good. Maybe the best sex of my life." She sighs and looks at herself in the mirror. "I look like shit."

"I'll be done in fifteen, you can take a bath if you want," I suggest. I wouldn't mind getting a nap in before going to the club. Plus, with the cocaine already scored, falling asleep wouldn't be a concern at Isabella's birthday.

"I'll actually do that, thanks." She smiles. Then she inhales. "Did you smoke weed in here?"

"Definitely."

***

I choose a black cut-out minidress (mainly because I brought four outfits with me and two of them were halloweeny) for the club, even though I usually avoid wearing tight dresses. And heels.

No one forces me to wear heels, but my mother would shake her head if she saw me going out in a dress with sneakers on. She's always been feminine, and I have always admired for that. Wondered how she could be so effortlessly beautiful. She had me when she was young, at twenty-two, and doesn't look over thirty-five even though she's forty-two now.

When I was younger, I would sit on her bed before bedtime and just watch her sitting by the vanity table doing her nighttime skin care routine. She had loads of creams and perfumes on show, but I rarely ever saw her putting makeup on. I watched her spend twenty minutes every night on washing her face in the bathroom, sitting down in front of the mirror, and applying what I would call 'magic potions' when I was seven years old.

Now that I think about it, they were sort of magic potions, because they kept her from ever aging. She's always looked the same to me. When I asked her about it a couple of years ago, she told me that the secret to looking young is also staying young on the inside.

I match the dress with a pair of black heels and grab one of my favourite leather Chanel handbags that looks like it froze from the outside in.

"How are you doing your makeup?" Raisa asks, coming in with her makeup bag.