Chapter Three
LOVE INDUCED COMATOSE STATES WERE CONSTANT FOR JUNA.
Dmitri Polkov was unrelenting and was likely contributing to her increased stress levels. Juna shook out her wet hair on Friday morning, the last day of final exams before graduation on Tuesday. For the past four days, she'd been entirely too unfocused for her liking.
The aptitude of her tests had been minor, but she maybe she was just too smart.
The Russians had yet to make a second appearance however she knew better than to believe they were uninterested in her. In fact, it was revealed to her while in one of the comatose states (she's dramatic, she's just talking about her excessive napping schedule) that they'll likely more interested in her of now due to her. . . fiery personality.
Strong women made excellent spies.
The art of manipulation was pridefully knotted in Juna's belt. It was tucked away, hidden from sight, and blanketed with safer skill: naivety. Under false pretenses, many considered her naive—and maybe she was, for believing she could outsmart the Pakhan with her desperate efforts crafted from the weaker of the emotions.
Dmitri should kiss her ass, truthfully.
Once she completed her psychology exam, she intended to pop in at Lucky's. Clayton hadn't appeared to have been there when the Six bombarded her. She fared exponentially without his help, considering, but one reoccurring thought kept pummeling her brain to mush: what if it had been Dmitri?
He's too innocent to get his hands dirty. A part of her, one that neglected to recognize, screamed at her that he wouldn't do the same for her. He wouldn't put his life on the line to ensure her safety. It didn't bother her in truth, because she knew prided herself on her loyalty and never expected anyone to return her grand gestures.
The blare of her cellphone ringing interrupted her towel-drying. Amelia's name flashed across her skin and she almost ignored her call, but she remembered her friendly duties and huffed.
"Hello?" she drawled out, oozing as much dismay as she could into the speaker.
"Wow, miss you too, Juna." Amelia teased, "There's a graduation party tonight, wanna come?"
Juna furrowed her eyebrows as she placed her phone in between the crevice of her shoulder and her ear, then proceeded the lather her body in lotion. "Graduation isn't until Tuesday."
She could practically hear Amelia's eyes roll to the back of her head. The girl's attitude rivaled her own, but she cared for her all the same. Amelia clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, "Yeah, but today's the last day of school!"
"Uh. . ." Juna pondered, attempting summon up a significant lie about why she couldn't attend. Dead dog? No, Meils knew she hated pets. Dead grandmother? That could work. . .
"Dmitri will be there." Juna distastefully perked up at the mention of his name—she hadn't heard from him all week and she had an irking suspicion it was due to the altercation between her and the Six Monday afternoon. Well, if Clayton isn't doing his job.
"Yeah, fine, I'll go. But no kegs. Those are disgusting."
"I can't control what alcohol is there, Juna. But you should bring some of the bubbly your mom has, you know, for a little pre-game." Juna pictures Amelia wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
"Will Dmitri be invited?" she questioned, even though it was her own damn limo.
"Yes, Keeley won't come without him."
