Aesthetic Credits: Viktoria – FC Joanna Prus
/ Istvan – FC Rob Evans
/ Both images borrowed from their Instagram
/ I own none of these images, all used with love and respect <3
/ Rings – enoirvado / Vegas view – Instagram sin1city / Quotes – all taken from Pinterest and none had credit for where they came from.[/caption]
Drake arrived back at the VIP booth to find it empty. He looked out to the dancefloor, was Istvan out there with Maxwell? Glancing at his watch, he frowned. ‘I wasn’t gone for that long…’ He sat down and motioned to the sever for another whisky. He pulled his phone out, no messages. He quickly fired off a text to Istvan: Ist – where are you? :/
He looked around for Andreas, his face turning to thunder when he spotted the younger man groping a drunk-looking redhead a few feet away in the corner… He knocked the rest of his whisky back, thumping the glass onto the table, striding across to Andreas and pulling his shoulder, much to the surprise of the female attached to his lips,
“Heyyyy! What the fuck dude…?”
Drake scowled at her,
“Sorry sweetheart, he’s supposed to be working. Andreas you’re on duty, where the hell is Istvan?”
Andreas eyes widened as he stared at the booth in horror. Where the fuck was the king??
—
It was over a week now and she still couldn’t face leaving the hotel room. Viktoria had sunk lower and lower. It had finally dawned on her, that she had given up everything she had. Everything she loved. Everything she was. Everything she’d achieved. All because she was scared that she wouldn’t be a good mom, that she wouldn’t love a baby, everything would go wrong and that it would ruin what she had with Istvan. But now she’d ruined it all by herself anyway by running away… ‘I’m so stupid. How did I not see it before?’
She didn’t even know who she was anymore. Her ‘self’ was so integrated and entwined with her life in Cordonia and being Istvan’s wife, that she barely recognised ‘Viktoria’ anymore. How could she be happy and start over anywhere, when he was so much a part of her that it felt like he coursed through her veins? She missed him dreadfully, painfully, devastatingly. Thinking of never seeing him again, her stomach lurched and she couldn’t breathe. When she walked out, that was supposed to be the hard part, but every day that passed got worse instead of better. Apart from him, she didn’t want to face the day. She’d tried to do the right thing by leaving , she just wanted to stop hurting him, but she knew now that she had made a huge mistake, but she just hadn’t been able to see another way when she was in the middle of it all… All she wanted was to be back in their home, wrapped up in his safe, strong arms, his lips against her neck, breathing in his scent. Not lying here cold and alone in a strange bed with no one to love or to love her back. And if that meant giving him a baby then so be it… Viktoria still wasn’t sure about becoming a mommy; the idea still completely terrified her, but however things panned out, nothing could possibly be worse than how she felt right here, right now… She couldn’t take it any more… Hands shaking she picked up her cellphone and hit call… It rang out until she was almost ready to lose her nerve. Was it too late? Would he take her back? Would he even want to hear from her?
The phone connected.
The android on the other end said: “You have reached the mailbox for.“ His silky voice stated, “Istvan.” The robot continued, “Please leave a message after the tone.” ‘Beeeeeep.’ Silence. She didn’t know what to say to the machine. She hung up and dissolved into a flood of tears for the umpteenth time today.
—
Drake and Andreas were barging their way through the throng of clubbers searching for Maxwell and Istvan. The young agent felt sick to the pit of his stomach. He knew his cards were marked for this epic fuck up, the King was missing on his watch. How could he have been so stupid? Where the hell was the King? Surely if someone had taken him, there would have been a scuffle, a commotion? He must be in the club somewhere.
Drake picked out Maxwell in the crowd, making his way through to him, thoughts wandering… ‘Jesus Christ, is that a Glow-Stick? Did we go back to the 90’s??’ When he reached him the words Maxwell yelled in his ear answered the question,
“Drake no way?! You came to dance?! Where’s Istvan??”
‘Shit.’
—
Back at the Penthouse, Jasmine was making herself comfortable with a drink, laying on the massive bed waiting for him. Istvan had his hands all over her curvy breasts and lean thighs in the cab, biting at her neck, kissing her hungrily. He was desperate to get her back to the suite and fuck her senseless. He needed a release; he needed a woman’s body pressed hard against his. He needed to feel something again, anything, anything but angry and numb. But now that they were back at the hotel, he’d lost his nerve and he didn’t know what to do about it. He stood there looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. ‘What the fuck are you doing Istvan? Pull yourself together man. Your wife doesn’t want you any more. She’s gone. There’s a stunning blonde in there waiting to have some fun with you. It’ll make you feel better…’ He splashed his face with some water, undid the top buttons on his shirt, slapped a smile on his face and walked into the bedroom,
“Need some company, beautiful?”
—
TBC – VP 💖
