At 6:45 PM sharp, I unlocked the door to Nikoy’s apartment. I wasn't going to risk Boris actually showing up to my loft and finding Gaby living there. I wasn't ready to expin that yet.

  When I walked inside, the air was thick with cigarette smoke. The entire crew was already gathered in the living room, waiting for me like a firing squad.

  "Derro!! Get in here!" Nikoy greeted me, pointing to the empty spot on the leather sofa. He was holding a half-empty bottle of cheap vodka.

  I walked over, slumped down into the cushions, and completely dropped my fake, charming persona. "How was the trip?"

  "Enough. Cut the polite bullshit," Nikoy demanded, smming a shot gss onto the coffee table in front of me. "Tell me exactly what the fuck happened. Andrew here can smell bullshit from a mile away, and he says you're hurting."

  I stared at the clear liquid in the shot gss. I let out a massive, heavy sigh, my shoulders completely dropping. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and finally broke.

  I told them everything. The empty closet. The blocked number. The manic search across the UChicago campus. Martha's devastating revetion. And the ultimate, sickening punchline: her "high school boyfriend" was Jones, the guy who used to be my brother.

  "Blyad..." Nikoy muttered, leaning back and running a heavy hand over his face. "I don’t even know what to say, Derro. That is… that is incredibly tough."

  "Have you tracked them down yet, Broda? Do you want me to pay this 'Jones' a visit?" Boris rumbled, cracking his massive knuckles, his eyes completely dark with protective rage.

  "No," I shook my head, staring bnkly at the floorboards. "She made her choice. She decided to leave me. That means she never actually loved me. There’s no point in fighting a ghost. Besides... Jones was my best friend. He was always the funny, charismatic guy in our group. I remember how much she used to ugh when she was around him. It makes perfect sense." I dropped my head heavily into my hands.

  "From what I saw, Broda... I think she genuinely loved you."

  I snapped my head up. Andrew was sitting quietly in the armchair, swirling his drink, looking directly at me.

  "Huh? Are you blind?" I scoffed defensively. "If she loved me, she wouldn't have left me! And she definitely wouldn't have abandoned me without even having the guts to say it to my face!"

  "That’s exactly why it’s odd, Broda," Andrew countered calmly, entirely unfazed by my anger. "But I am very sure she loved you. The way she looked at you when you weren't paying attention... her physical gravity around you... You cannot fake that kind of attachment. It was crystal clear to all of us, Broda."

  I let out a harsh, bitter sigh, burying the tiny sliver of hope Andrew's words had just sparked. "It doesn’t matter anymore. I'm done with her. I just want to move on."

  "Then let’s cheer ourselves up tomorrow, Derro! We drink!" Nikoy yelled, cpping his hands together to break the depressing tension. "There’s a massive party happening at the underground bar tomorrow night!"

  "Heh. Sure," I smirked, reaching forward and downing my shot of vodka in one smooth gulp. "Can I bring Gaby with me?"

  The room went instantly, terrifyingly silent.

  Nikoy lowered his bottle. Boris stopped cracking his knuckles. Andrew slowly set his drink down. All three of them stared at me like I had just grown a second head.

  "Who?" they asked in unison.

  **

  The next afternoon, I told Gaby we were going out to an underground party with the Russian crew.

  She panicked immediately. She hesitated, stammering that she had never been to a real club in her life, and worse, she didn't own a single outfit that wasn't a conservative sweater or a college hoodie. I didn't let her back out. I promised to take care of it, and I drove her straight to the downtown boutiques.

  I essentially pyed dress-up with her. I scoured the racks, specifically hunting down the tight, revealing, dark-colored dresses that Jessica used to wear. I was actively, deliberately using Jessica as a reference board to mold Gaby into the perfect repcement.

  It was deeply twisted. But when she finally stepped out of my bathroom in the loft that evening, the guilt completely vanished. She looked absolutely phenomenal.

  "Baby, is it really okay for me to wear something like this outside?" she asked nervously, fidgeting with the dangerously short hem of the bck dress.

  "Babe, you look fucking hot," I said, my eyes dragging slowly over her body. The dress clung to her perfect curves like a second skin. She had taken her hair out of its usual messy bun, letting the dark waves fall loosely around her bare shoulders, framing her face fwlessly.

  "Really?" Her anxiety melted into pure adoration. She closed the distance between us, resting her hands ft against my chest. "You look incredibly handsome in that bck shirt, baby." Her brown eyes darkened with sudden, heavy lust, and she bit her lower lip. "You're making me horny again, baby."

  My jaw tightened. For a split second, my brain had desperately expected her to call me Tiger. But I swallowed the ghost down, forcing a smirk. "Save it for ter, babe," I whispered, my hands sliding down to grip her waist. "Trust me. The anticipation makes it better. You kept your promise to go commando tonight, right?"

  She nodded, a seductive, wicked little smile pying on her lips.

  "Good girl." I tilted her chin up and kissed her gently, making sure not to smudge her expensive lipstick. "Come on. Let’s go show you off."

  *

  My tires crunched over the gravel of the bar's dark parking lot. We stepped out of the car at the exact same moment the Russian crew walked up from the street.

  "Bozhe moi!" Nikoy yelled, stopping dead in his tracks. His cigarette practically fell out of his mouth as he stared at Gaby in absolute awe. "You really know how to pick a girl, Derro!"

  "Not gonna lie, Broda... she looks absolutely gorgeous," Andrew agreed smoothly, raising his pstic cup in a polite toast. Even Boris, the silent, terrifying giant, was staring at Gaby with intense, unblinking approval.

  "Careful, boys," I warned. I stepped slightly in front of her, wrapping a heavy, possessive arm around her waist and pulling her flush against my hip. "She’s strictly mine."

  I smirked at them. Internally, a massive, intoxicating wave of validation washed over my broken ego. Look at me, I thought desperately. I'm not crying over Jessica. I have a brand new, gorgeous girl, and she worships the ground I walk on. I am perfectly fine.

  "Fuuuck, Derro! You are one lucky bastard! Let’s go inside and drink!" Nikoy roared, spping my shoulder as we walked toward the entrance.

  We pushed through the heavy doors, instantly swallowed by the chaos. The rave was already at its peak. Bring, synthetic bass vibrated violently through the floorboards, and the neon strobe lights cut through the thick, sweaty air of the packed crowd. We shoved our way to the back and cimed our usual VIP leather booth.

  I looked down at Gaby. She looked absolutely terrified. She was practically shrinking into the leather cushions, her wide eyes darting nervously around the dark, wless room.

  "Babe, rex," I murmured, grabbing her waist and pulling her directly onto my p. "Are you nervous?"

  She nodded innocently, burying her face in the crook of my neck to hide from the strobe lights.

  I chuckled, wrapping my arms around her trembling body. "You’re with me, babe. I'm right here. No one in this entire building is going to bother you, okay? Trust me."

  She looked up at my face, searching my eyes for reassurance. Slowly, she exhaled, her rigid posture finally rexing against my chest. "Okay."

  As was tradition, Nikoy cracked open a fresh bottle of Grey Goose. He took on his role as the bartender, relentlessly nursing our table with round after round of shots. I watched Gaby closely, but to my absolute shock, she managed to throw the harsh vodka back like a seasoned veteran.

  Three shots ter, the alcohol successfully bypassed her anxiety. She became heavily tipsy, her cheeks flushed bright red, and her timid nervousness was completely repced by a sloppy, bold confidence.

  "Babe... you wanna go dance?" I whispered directly into her ear, my hand resting dangerously high on her bare thigh.

  "Hm-mph," she purred. She slid off my p, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the fshing lights. "Let’s go, baby."

  I was genuinely caught off guard. Gaby was an incredible dancer.

  The cheap vodka had completely dissolved her timid, library-nerd persona. Under the fshing neon strobe lights, her movements were fluid, heavy, and phenomenal. When she turned her back to me and began to grind her hips in a slow, highly seductive rhythm, my logic completely shut down. I was hooked. The pulsing bass of the club was vibrating in my teeth, and a sudden, violent wave of lust hit me. I needed to fuck her right then and there.

  I grabbed her hand, pulled her aggressively off the crowded dance floor, and dragged her straight back to the shadows of our reserved VIP booth. I sat down heavily on the leather sofa and yanked her down onto my p so she was straddling my thighs. I grabbed the back of her head and devoured her lips, my tongue ciming her mouth.

  She broke the kiss, gasping for air. Her brown eyes darted nervously around the booth, her anxiety suddenly spiking as she realized where we were. "Baby! We’re in public! Your friends are sitting right across the table!"

  I didn't argue with her. I just used her biology against her.

  I pulled her flush against my chest and buried my face in her neck, sucking a hard bruise into the exact spot I knew drove her crazy. Her body betrayed her instantly. A soft gasp escaped her lips, and her rigid posture completely melted against me. I slid my hand up her bare thigh, slipping my fingers under the hem of her dress. She had kept her promise to go commando. I touched her directly, finding her absolutely dripping wet.

  "Are you sure you want to stop, babe?" I whispered against her colrbone, my fingers gently tracing her center.

  "No... baby," she moaned, her eyes fluttering shut as her boundaries entirely colpsed.

  "Come down, then. Suck me."

  It was a degrading command, but she didn't hesitate. She slid off my p, dropping to her bare knees on the sticky floor of the booth Her hands fumbled with my zipper, freeing me into the cold, pulsing air of the club. She dropped to her bare knees on the sticky floor of the booth, completely hidden by the low table and the shadows, and took me into her mouth with an eager, desperate passion. The wet, rhythmic sounds she made were incredibly hot, entirely masked by the deafening electronic music shaking the walls.

  I leaned my head back, looking across the table. Nikoy and Boris were frozen, staring at us in absolute, jaw-dropping shock. When I made eye contact with them, Boris threw his head back and ughed, while Nikoy raised his gss, silently cheering on my unhinged audacity.

  I was putting on a show. I was proving I was the ultimate, uncaring Draufg?nger.

  After a few agonizing minutes, the tension in my groin was too much to handle. I reached down, grabbed her waist, and hoisted her up into my p. Without waiting for a command, she hiked the tight fabric of her dress up around her waist, aligned herself, and sank down, taking my entire length in one smooth, breathtaking drop.

  She began to ride me, her movements fast, sloppy, and completely unrestrained. I grabbed the hem of her tight bck dress and ruthlessly bunched it up around her waist, completely exposing her massive, bare curves to the dark room. I gripped her hips, my fingers bruising her skin as I forced her to move faster and harder against me.

  The sex was blindingly intense. I could see the awe and respect burning in the eyes of Nikoy and Boris.

  I grabbed her waist and effortlessly spun her around. Now she was sitting on my p, her back flush against my chest, her bare ass fully exposed to the table. I penetrated her even deeper from behind, my free hand slipping down between her legs to push every single boundary she had left.

  She threw her head back against my shoulder, her nails digging frantically into my thighs as she whimpered loudly over the bass.

  "Baby! I’m cumming!!" she screamed.

  Her desperate, breathless cries pushed me right over the edge. As her body seized, trembling violently against me with her climax, I drove my hips up and released a massive, blinding load deep inside her.

  She colpsed backward against me, completely spent, her chest heaving as she struggled to pull oxygen back into her lungs.

  "Clean it up, babe," I whispered coldly into her ear.

  She obediently slipped off my p, dropping to her knees to take care of the messy aftermath. I leaned heavily back against the leather sofa, pulling a cigarette from my pocket. I sparked the lighter, took a long drag, and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. I felt like a god. I had completely conquered my grief.

  But as the smoke cleared, my peripheral vision caught movement across the table.

  Andrew.

  He wasn't cheering. He wasn't ughing. He wasn't looking at Gaby.

  Andrew was sitting perfectly still, casually swirling the ice in his gss, staring directly into my eyes with a completely dead, unreadable poker face.

  He didn't look impressed. He looked like he was watching a man drown.