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18-06-2005, 21:21 | #21 |
Gimme some sugar!
Join Date: Jul 2003
Posts: 1,572
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how did i miss this?
i'll try to catch up |
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19-06-2005, 14:32 | #22 |
Uhaku's alter ego
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chapter 13
ShowmeLove, thank u for liking what i have to share. for ya.
Volkster, oh, no no no, Yulia should follow the Irish? U r giving me some strange idea! Veggie, feel free. Short note to Mel: Ah, yes, this Yulia (my fifth, excluding gingerbread one) is without her usual dark side! Just the annoying little brat. U can't imagine how much I'm glad u hate her! If u like her in this one, I'd be like... DO I HAVE TO MAKE HER BALD OR WHAT?! >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>> CHAPTER 13 It was the fourth consecutive day Yulia spent at Tonya’s apartment. She lied idle on the bed, a burning cigarette between her lips. She lifted her glasses a little, staring up at the ceiling. Since the argument in the alley, she hadn’t received the apology she expected from Lena. Roland didn’t show up or gave her any call either. She couldn’t believe the duo had completely ignored her now. “I told you not to smoke in my bedroom! The balcony! That’s why I have a balcony!” Tonya screamed at the door, running around between the bathroom and the bedroom, trying on new garment she bought yesterday. “How do I look?” She spun around in the white dress with golden collar. “Put on a little more eyeliner and you could pass as Cleopatra,” Yulia droned, moving through the glassy, French door into the balcony. Tonya followed suit. “Cleopatra? Is she a new MGM star?” “Go on and try another one,” Yulia said. She wasn’t going to give Tonya a history lecture. She just wanted her friend to get over and done with this frantic change of clothes so they could go out and have dinner. “Yulia, please, you needn’t be so sad just because a girl deserted you,” Tonya begged. “Pardon? We were not together, and will never be! She will never have the chance to desert me!” “But I have never seen you bothered like this before.” “She called me a pervert! A piece of shit! Yes, I feel terrible, Tonya!” Tonya rubbed Yulia’s head. “She was wrong, but that was a week ago—” “Four days,” Yulia corrected. “She’s got a bad mouth and bad manners, that’s all. She was jealous like you said. Don’t waste your time with a clueless, asexual girl. That’s not my Yulia.” Yulia crossed her arms, shivering in the cold. But she wasn’t about to throw the cigarette away. “Asexual…? Oh, no. What a pity…” she mumbled. “If both Mr. Myer and you couldn’t get her excited, nothing in the world will. It’s clear that she just doesn’t go for humans.” “She likes Mr. Myer, I can tell. They deserve each other,” Yulia grunted. “Oh, please go change your clothes now,” she dismissed, annoyed at Tonya’s persistent gaze. But Tonya wouldn’t move. “Mr. Myer couldn’t have liked you just because of your money. He seemed like a sincere gentleman, and I think your mother will approve of him.” “I know he’s not that bad,” Yulia admitted. She just couldn’t find any other reason to reject the prospect of getting into a serious relationship. She was twenty, and her mother had started nagging her to consider a suitor. But she didn’t want to get married just yet. “You cannot expect a rich man with a heart of a gentleman. They do not exist.” “I’m not looking for a gentleman!” “A lady? The Irish is the one out of your league! Not only she’s not a lady, she’s a mobster! And, Yulia, dear, this kind of fun cannot last. All women must get married sooner or later. Now that you have Mr. Myer right in front of you, you should seize the opportunity.” “But Lena must have told him how horrible I was to speak of him in such way!” “I know what a man is like. He’ll turn against his best friend when it concerns his lover. Trust me. Go to him today and make peace.” “I won’t apologize! I’m the one who was abused! I was abused by his best friend!” “Come with me now,” Tonya said, dragging Yulia inside. “We’ll change our clothes, and I’ll drop you off at his place.” “But—” “The decision is final.” And Yulia knew it. She couldn’t wait to see Mr. Myer again, only she wasn’t sure of the reason. >>> It was already six in the evening, and Roland was sitting in the living room, reading some newspaper to kill time. He had been waiting for a call from Lena for three days now, but received none. He had dropped by her place, but she hadn’t returned. He was becoming extra careful and paranoid now. He called up his men to secure his house and Lena’s apartment. No one was allowed to enter Lena’s room even the landlord. Throwing the papers down at the floor, Roland got up and paced around. He jumped when Oliver came through the door. “Someone’s here to see you, sir. It’s Ms. Volkova, sir.” Roland paused. He never expected Yulia to show up after what Lena had done that night. “Show her in,” he eventually said. After a few moments, Yulia glided through and stopped right behind the couch. She was wearing a hat and a pair of leather gloves that matched with her white coat. She looked even more stunning now when he hadn’t seen her for several days. “H—hello… Hello, Yulia,” Roland stammered. Yulia took a small card out of her handbag. Roland moved across the room to retrieve the card. He stood on the other side of the couch, afraid to get too close that he might upset her again. “What is this…? A Christmas invitation?” Roland looked up, amusingly happy. “My father insisted to have you there. We were going to send them by mail, but I happened to come around here. I meant to drop by only for a minute.” Yulia then turned around. “Wait! Yulia, wait!” Roland swiftly moved beside her. “I’m sorry for what happened. Lena was drunk that night, and I had no idea what she was going to see you there—” “I’m surprised you didn’t have her deliver your apology again,” Yulia said curtly. “I’ve been really busy these past few days! And even if she’s available, I’d go to you myself!” “How come I didn’t see you before I rang your doorbell?” Yulia stopped and looked around. “What’s with all the bodyguards here?” “Umm—it’s just for precaution.” “You have just realized how dangerous the life you lead?” Roland smiled in relief when a smile appeared on her face. “I sent some to Lena’s too, but she’s away… She’s on a business errand.” “Are you two busy killing someone again?” Yulia teased. Roland looked elsewhere. He didn’t know what to say. He was worried sick that Lena might be the victim this time, and he hadn’t done anything to prevent it. “What’s going on…?” Yulia asked. It struck him to sense the concern in her voice. He motioned her to the couch. “Let’s get your some drink first, and then I’ll explain everything.” >>> Oliver had just come out of the living room after he made a cup of coffee for Yulia. He shut the doors behind him, and the bodyguards stood outside, leaving Roland and his guest some privacy. >>> Sitting on the couch, Yulia stared blankly at Roland. She had her glasses on now and her coat was hanging near the doorway. Her coffee was left untouched as she listened to him. “You let her go alone, and it has been three days?” Yulia asked, wide-eyed. She thought she was screaming at him, but glad she didn’t. It was the last thing she should do as she was trying to erase the image of the disgusting snob Lena seemed to hold of her. “Mitch had contacted me. He said he lost track of Lena that night. He has no idea where she went.” “Mitch didn’t report that to my father! No wonder I don’t see him around lately,” Yulia grunted. She believed that Mitch was hoping there was nothing to be reported, that the Irish would come back safely in no time. Roland sighed tiredly. “Lena never disappeared without giving me a word except that one time… She was gone for two weeks right before Mason’s murder.” “Do you think she’s doing it again? It could be Frederick’s request.” Roland shook his head, and Yulia was somehow disappointed. It was better if Lena was the killer, not the victim. Although she was somewhat related to Frederick Young, their families had grown distant in the past ten years or so. She couldn’t remember the last time she met him. “Lena hadn’t done it again since Mason and, from what I know, she didn’t plan to. She was being more careful when to use her gun now… Sometimes I still couldn’t believe she was really the Irish. To me, she isn’t…” Roland stood up and washed down his bourbon. “We are just two poor kids in the street, who just got real lucky. Things turned upside down in just a matter of days. We don’t know how we handled it.” Yulia kept her gaze down. Roland had just confessed that he was actually a kid from some foster home like Lena. She admired his courage, but the honesty hit her as it made her feel like the Irish was already history. “I think you handled it just fine. Look at you now,” Yulia said, dryly smiling. Although Roland looked refined and sophisticated as if he was born with this fortune, Lena remained untouched by it. It was probably this graceless outer shell, in spite of being the notorious Irish, which marveled Yulia. She would have expected to celebrate the Irish’s doom after the insult thrown at her, but mustering a small smile was a difficult task right now. “I’m surprised you showed up today. You forgave how silly we were, and came to give me the invitation card yourself. I’ll definitely go. I won’t miss it for the world.” Yulia paused at his genuine smile. From what Tonya had gathered from her sources of gossips, Roland must have some feelings for Lena years ago. She finally saw through her ego and found that it wasn’t Lena who threatened her, but this handsome, young man instead. She was just like the rest of the underworld that schemed to win the Irish’s approval. It amazed her that a legend sometimes meant more than reality. Lena was, in fact, just another girl from a poor neighborhood who rose to fame by chance. Nothing more. “I’m just relieved that you didn’t shut the door in my face after you—after you knew how I spoke of you,” Yulia mumbled. Roland looked down briefly. “You grew up with everything you’ll ever need, and I should think you have the right to be a snob… hopefully just the right amount.” They chortled. But Yulia still sat with her fingers curling up the hem of her skirt. “I know I overreacted that night,” she muttered. “I’m Lena’s friend, but I still think what she said to you was uncalled for.” “Not enough to make me slap her.” From the empty look on his face, she realized that Lena didn’t tell him this bit of information. Oh. My. God. She sprung up from the couch. “I definitely didn’t mean to—I—I was not drunk, but…” Roland shook his head, frowning. “I know her. She didn’t tell me because she thought she deserved it.” “No, she didn’t! I was being a—a—a” “A bitch, absolutely,” Roland stated clearly. Yulia felt a pang of guilt hitting her in the face. “But let’s pray you’ll have the chance to say sorry to her in person soon,” Roland said and smiled. Yulia became a bit relieved. The wait was a tough one for Roland, and he seemed to need someone to console him now. She moved closer and embraced him. “I’d love to have you here a little longer, but considering the circumstances, you better go home. I don’t want anything to happen to you. Did you have your bodyguards coming with you?” Yulia shook her head, letting go off him. Tonya dropped her off and had gone for a dinner with some friends already. “I’ll send somebody with you, and be careful. Young might try to trick your father, and you could be his target.” >>> A few moments later, Yulia left Roland’s place with two, armed men riding in the car with her. For a while, she sat, deep in thoughts. She then tapped on the driver’s shoulder. “Could you please stop by Lena’s apartment? I just need to drop something for her.” “Do you mean Ms. Cohen’s place, Ma’am?” “Umm—yes…” Yulia realized that she never cared to find out Lena’s last name. Sadly, The Irish was all that mattered, whereas Lena Cohen was nothing. When the car parked in front of the building, Yulia got off the car with a man following her. They walked three stairs up and met with another four bodyguards Roland hired to watch Lena’s room. Reluctantly, Yulia opened her handbag and took a card out. She slipped it under the door, praying that Lena would come back in time to see it. It was the only Christmas wish Yulia had this year. |
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Irina Slutskaya the champion of my heart I salute you! I know it's not the correct order of the colors of the Russian flag, but I want Irina in blue anyway. Yeehaw! |
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19-06-2005, 14:55 | #23 |
Новенький
Join Date: Jun 2005
Posts: 34
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Well,no offence to anyone but I can't help but absolutely love Yulia even if she is acting like a spoiled brat! I'm sure she has a deeper side. She just needs an opportunity to show it! (Is it obvious I'm a Yulia fan yet???? )
As for the update ... Damn!!! Where is she? Is she lying in a ditch somewhere? Did she kill the driver and stays low??? What, what WHAT???? Thanks for the update!!!! I LOVED IT!!!!! *cheers* |
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Dreams aren't perfect; they come true; not free! |
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20-06-2005, 02:58 | #24 | |
the likeness of a human
Join Date: Jan 2003
Age: 44
Gender: Female
Posts: 265
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Quote:
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20-06-2005, 04:13 | #25 |
BiAtch
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Where the "hell" is the Irish/Lena Cohen?? And it seems that little Miss Yulia is a mess since she's been gone, with no one to stalk and all.... Thanks for the update and the rose
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21-06-2005, 01:56 | #26 |
Yearning
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OMG why did I wait so long to read this?!? WHY??? This is DAMN good uhaku!!! DAMN good!!! I am hooked! I spent most of my Sunday afternoon yesterday just reading this! It's awesome!! That Yulia...geeze what a spoiled, yet intriguing brat she is! And Lena...the mystery just draws you in! Freaken awesome! Can't wait for another update!
Speaking of which, are you going to update DW soon? I *LOVE* that story!! I am so hooked on the characters of Ilse and Jaden! And just to let you know, I bought your "666" e-book in pdf format. Freaken awesome! I stayed up til the weeeee hours of the morning reading that! I just love your stuff! |
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23-06-2005, 17:33 | #27 |
Uhaku's alter ego
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Oh, Volkster, why wouldn't i know u r a yulia fan. u name says it all. Me glad that
u still like her no matter what. Lol. mel, nah, i like it the way u do it. sounds like s/m? LOL! Showmelove the Irish is here D2D, welcome back and onto my new story! Ummmmmmm, i posted some updates for DW at tatu dot us. (Cross fingers that u haven't checked, buying me some times ) I will try to get back to finish DW. As of right now, I have too many unfinished stories in my hands. LOL. Crampy: one chap as promised before u go. Sorry this chap is a bit long. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>> CHAPTER 14 It was the night of Christmas Eve, marking exactly one week since the Irish’s disappearance. Yulia had spent the past few days helping her mother turning the grand living room into a ballroom to receive nearly two hundreds guests tonight. There would be mafias, politicians and all the influential people. Absolutely no photographs or journalists would be tolerated inside this handsome ranch. Dimitri Volkov had been a significant member of the underground world for the past three decades. But the community had faced several dramatic changes ever since Mason was murdered. Their strong bond threatened as the position for the head of the community was still vacant for the past three years. Dimitri wanted to make the coming year their new era. They must unite against laws and orders to survive this new age. Smoking on the balcony of her room, Yulia had only a robe over her shoulders. She was in a black gown, cut deep behind to show off her beautiful, bony back. She looked out the huge, snow-covered garden and the vast field beyond. A small cottage stood beside the lighthouse against the long trail of high fences, which circled around the field and marked the Volkov’s territory. There were several dozens men guarding the space. “HOLY MARY!” Yulia shrieked, the cigarette falling off her fingers. A hand shot out of nowhere, gripping onto the edge of the balcony. She covered her mouth with her hands and stepped closer to take a look. Her Christmas wish was climbing up the balcony. She stared down at Lena, unsure whether to feel relieved at last or angry. “Welcome back, Irish,” Yulia said, hands on her bottom. Lena climbed in and bent down, hiding herself from anyone’s sight from below. “How could you climb up here?” Yulia looked down at the snowy ground. There was no footprint. Lena must have come from some other room instead. “Actually, I have a better question. How did you get in here when it seems you didn’t use the invitation card I left at your apartment? The guards are all over the place—” Yulia stopped as she saw the dress Lena was wearing. It was the black uniform the maids in this mansion wore. “Thank you for sending the girls out for a grocery shop a few days ago, or I’d have been frozen to death in the field. You have a huge party tonight,” Lena remarked as she made her way into the room, brushing the dust off her skirt. “Do you mean to tell me that you’ve been in my house for the past few days?” Yulia pretended to glare at Lena, while she was actually in awe of the trick. “Angela was kind enough to let me crash at her room,” Lena said, pulling her skirt up. “Oh, God!” Yulia gasped, turning the other way. Lena pulled out a revolver that was strapped to her thigh. She looked up, puzzled. “You’re staring at me,” Lena said. Yulia’s gaze lifted up and met with Lena’s in the reflection of the large mirror at the corner of the room. Sighing, she turned around. She was truly startled at Lena’s action, but couldn’t help staring when she got the chance. “Explain yourself, Ms. Cohen. What are you doing here?” Yulia said with authority. “I didn’t know anybody still bothered finding out my last name.” Lena smiled lightly as she checked the bullets in the revolver. “You agreed not to show your face in my house again, although I should have expected it since you’re such a bad liar. Where have you been the past week? Do you have any idea how worried Mr. Myer was?” “I was trying to survive just to see white Christmas. Now, move,” Lena said, pointing the gun at Yulia. Yulia froze. “Are you going to shoot me? My parents will be expecting me shortly!” Yulia said, exasperated at the ungrateful action. She was ready to ignore the fact that Lena had hidden inside her house, but all she got was a gun at her face. Lena pressed the gun at Yulia’s cheek, causing her to shut up instantly. “Go sit on the chair.” The order came quietly, but Yulia didn’t think she should object. Cursing under her breath, she stiffly sat down. It appeared that nothing could kill the Irish, but the Irish would kill anyone in her way. What a fool she was to worry about Lena’s safety! Lena grabbed a piece of cloth and tied Yulia’s hands to the back of the chair. As Lena bent down a bit, Yulia could see the deep cut on Lena’s shoulder underneath the collar. Looking further down, there were several minor cuts around Lena’s knees, masterfully blended in with the creamy color of the stockings. These injuries must have come from the night Lena disappeared with Frederick. Yulia wondered how Lena escaped when she had absolutely no help from Roland or Mitch. Oh, well, she’s the Irish after all… Unconsciously, Yulia sighed in relief. “Your shoulder is still bleeding a bit. Didn’t Angela patch you up?” Yulia was surprised at her own bitter tone, curious of what might possibly happen in Angela’s room during the past few days. She would be sure to report the maid’s perilous act to her father as soon as she got off this seat. Lena glanced at the small wound. It must have open again during the climbing. But she didn’t care to respond, and started tying Yulia’s legs. “I’ll make it quick—” “As always,” Yulia interrupted, scoffing. “I can’t have you ruin the chance I may never get again. It’s extremely hard to get this close to Young without his men marching around.” “It was extremely hard to break into my house, but you did it anyway.” “You’ll be safer up here.” “Do not do what I think you would.” Yulia didn’t like the sound of Lena’s plan one bit. “If you shoot him, you’re finished—” Lena gagged Yulia’s mouth with a handkerchief. “Uuuk—auuu!” Yulia tried to scream. Lena eyed Yulia up and down, and then went to shut the doors to the balcony, shunning off the cold wind. Grabbing the blanket, she carefully put it over Yulia. Yulia sat still. Oddly, the slightest sign of kindness from Lena could make her feel positively numbed. It lighted up her heart, but her mind remained numbed because it meant nothing to the Irish. “I won’t stay until the party is over, so…” Lena stopped just before she opened the door. “Merry Christmas.” She then slipped out of the room. >>> Lena went around the kitchen and picked up a tray of glasses filled with pink champagne. She walked up the stairs, careful not to attract attention from the guards around. Glancing down, Dimitri Volkov was just downstairs, receiving guests at the front door, and all the while, introducing his son to the powerful ones. Alexei didn’t look one bit eager, but he was polite enough to keep a smile on his face at all times. With the tray above her shoulder, Lena made her way into the gigantic, crowded, living room, which was turned into a ballroom for the event. It was overly packed with guests, and the guards stood just outside the room. There were roughly seventy maids in the mansion, and in this busy evening, she could blend in easily. Spotting Frederick Young at the corner talking to a few men, she carefully glided through the crowd, offering drinks along the way. Her revolver stored enough bullets to kill Frederick but, considering how many guards there, they weren’t enough to get her out of here. There were some spare bullets in her pockets, and she also had planted some in the vases and hid more in several places around the mansion. The safest escape route would strictly follow the hidden bullets, but she realized how hard that might be. No one was to see the shooter was what matter the most. She would try to spare the innocent bystanders, but it was always better them than her. Fate would decide who would live on to New Year’s Eve tonight. Lena glanced around once more. Roland Myer was on the other side of the room, talking to Tonya. He hadn’t seen her, and that suited her fine. The last thing she wanted was to get him involved in this mess. This moment reminded her of the night she murdered Mason, only there wasn’t a huge crowd of innocent bystanders. That night was she versus everyone else in Mason’s mansion, even Mason’s three-year-old son. She knew no mercy. Although killing Frederick here may seem like a crazy plan, Lena couldn’t keep running away. He would never let her live in peace. It was she or he, and only one of them would get out of here alive. A few more steps would take her close enough to the target. “May I have a glass, Miss?” a voice came from behind. Frederick’s head was turning Lena’s way, so she spun around to the voice of the guest but froze at the sight before her. Senator Iver stood, staring back at her, equally shocked. It took him a while to eventually remember why he stopped her. He then numbly took a drink from the tray. “Senator Iver! It’s been a while! How are you!?” Frederick’s voice sounded so friendly no one would ever think that he had just schemed a murder on the senator. Frederick was now standing behind Lena. She quickly walked away. “I need some refreshment, too, Ma’am,” Frederick called out. Lena stopped. For a moment, she could hear nothing, but she could see everything. Everyone. The guards were not looking at her. No one. She let out a sigh and turned. The foes’ gazes met for half a second before a gunshot blast through the hall. People screamed and ran wildly for the exit. Two more shots in the head made sure that Frederick Young died right at the spot. In the stampede, the guards came through against the crowd, guns drawn. As best as they could avoid the bystanders, they aimed at anyone around the downed man. Bewildered, Senator Iver knelt on the floor, hands over his head. But Lena was fast to follow the crowd out into the hallway. When she saw the guards stopping people from going down the main, spiral stairs to the first floor, she ran the other way to the windows at the end of the corridor. The guards caught her and started shooting over the guests’ heads. Screams filled up the hallway and someone was yelling for help. Somebody had taken the bullets instead of her. Jumping through the window, Lena flew out of the building and landed onto the snowy ground below. She would have broken her legs if there weren’t any bush around. Groaning, she crawled a bit further, trying to get to the fences. But the guards were running around like mad, with barking dogs leading them. The men from the windows above blindly shot down into darkness. Lying on the ground, Lena flipped up, shooting back. Two men fell off the broken window like falling leafs. “Stop right there!” a man shouted, his voice marking approximately thirty feet away. Lena took the chance, rolling on the snowy ground, narrowly escaping the bullets. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! She then lied on her stomach, taking him down with just one shot. Before she could get back up, another man appeared at the corner of the building, shooting right at her. She pulled the trigger—Click! All six bullets were spent! She griped her pockets and found they were empty; the spare bullets must have fallen out. “Great!” Lena grunted. No time to think. She snatched a rock and ran as fast as a lightning, leaping at him. Bullets flew past her face like a sharp, cool breeze as she smashed the rock in his face full force. They both dropped to the ground. The man was unconscious now. She grabbed his gun and ran for the other side of the building. But a guard caught sight of her first. Bang! Bang! Bang! Lena dove down to the ground, and the bullets from behind narrowly missed her. She instantly crawled behind the bush, aiming right back at the shooter. But she paused. Mitch was standing at the corner in the pool of spotlights. Judging from the poor visibility and the distance, he couldn’t see her face. However, she was hesitated to shoot now. Mitch shot again and hit Lena. She fell forwards and aimed for his knee. Mitch cried in pain as he fell to the ground. Wincing, Lena felt the sharp, burning sensation in her stomach. She looked at the blood on her hand, stunned. Edging away from the open area, she trekked around the building. But the guards were running all over the place, and the fences were too far away to make it there without being seen. The blood would leave the trail, leading them right where she was. She couldn’t waste anymore time as she started trembling. She sneaked into the narrow path behind the trees and broke into the kitchen through the small window. Thankfully, no one was in sight. She tried to ignore the screaming in the hallway and searched for a towel to help preventing the blood from dripping down. >>> “What’s going on outside!?” Yulia yelled the first instant Angela pulled the cloth out of her mouth. The maid frantically untied her hands and legs. “There—there was a—a shooting, madam. There was a shooting… Someone died…” “Who—” Yulia panicked. The door burst opened, and Lena stumbled through, the gun and the blood-soaked towel in her hands. She immediately locked the door, panting and looking around. Her black uniform pretty much concealed the sight of any wound. “You have done it! You have turned my house into a battlefield! Get out of my house!” As soon as Yulia was released from the chair, she jumped at Lena, thrusting her against the door. To her surprise, Lena didn’t seem to resist her force. “Yuli! Yuli! Are you in there!?” It was her mother. “Hide in the closet!” Yulia ordered. Lena staggered into the closet, and Angela closed its door. “Yes, mother!” Yulia opened the door to receive her mother. “Thank God, you’re safe!” Mrs. Volkova looked utterly relief, tightly hugging Yulia. “Are you all right!? Has anyone come into this room!?” “I was touching up on my makeup when I heard gunshots! Where’s dad and Alex!? What happened out there!?” “They’re with the men downstairs! We’re trying to find the shooter!” “Who was it!? Is everyone all right!?” Yulia pretended to frown. “I have no idea. It was so crazy down there! How could this happen!? We have so many guards here and no one was allowed to bring weapons into the ranch! Oh, my party!” Yulia stroked her mother’s back. “Angela, escort my mother to her room. Stay with her until everything is calmed down.” “But I need to be with you, Yuli!” her mother protested. “I’ll be all right. I’m sure the guards will find the shooter soon. You need to lie down for a bit, mother.” Before her mother could open her mouth, Yulia walked her to the door, Angela closely behind. “Lock the door! Don’t let anyone get in!” her mother said. Yulia did so. She then leapt at the glassy doors to the balcony and drew the curtains closed. She ran back to the closet and swung its door open. Lena fell flat on the floor. “Get up! My mother is gone!” Yulia tried to take the gun out of Lena’s hand, but Lena refused. Yulia just grunted and gave up. “You’re digging your own grave! There’s no way you can get out of here now!” “Of course, I can,” Lena muttered. She tightly gripped the wound on her stomach, her face looking very pale now. “Oh…! That was your blood?” Yulia looked back into the closet. Good thing the blood only dripped onto the clothes scattered on the closet’s floor, or Angela would have a field day to clean it up. Yulia quickly put Lena’s arm around her shoulder and helped her to her feet. “Hey, stay with me. Stay with me,” Yulia said, gently putting the Irish on the bed. Lena tried to get up. “Get me a car,” she whispered. Yulia angrily pushed Lena back down. “Very funny! First, you disappeared and had me worried if you were dead or alive! Just half an hour ago, you ruined our party and got yourself in some deep shit! Now, you want me to find you a car! The best you will get is a goddamn bicycle!” “Get me a car!” Lena yelled one last time before she fell flat down on the bed. Kneeling down beside the bed, Yulia tightly held Lena’s hand. “Oh, no, tell me how to stop the bleeding first!” No response. Lena’s eyes were closed now. Yulia jumped at her feet, pulling the blanket up to cover Lena’s whole body. “Stay here! God damn you if you try to run again! I’ll be back with some help!” >>> Yulia ran fast down the main, spiral stairs, passing the terrified guests and frantic guards. Several wounded guests and guards were lying on the stretchers, waiting to be delivered to the nearest hospital. Yulia ran towards them and snatched the first aid kit, but a guard stopped her. “Please, Ms. Volkova, where are you taking it!?” “Yulia… Yulia…” a voice called out. “Mitch!” Yulia gasped as she saw Mitch lying among the wounded ones. She knelt down beside the fat man, startled and furious that Lena dared to shoot her beloved mentor. He was the man who taught her how to use a gun since she was eight, even though she still didn’t know how to shoot. “It’s just a scratch,” Mitch said, pointing at his knee. “I got the shooter, Yulia! I hit him!” “Oh, my God, it was you!” Yulia shrieked. She couldn’t believe Mitch dared to shoot the Irish. Lena was dying up there in her room because of her mentor. At the thought, she rose to her feet with the kit in her hand, meaning to head back upstairs. But a roar of an engine in the distance, which seemed to escape everyone’s attention, caught her. In the midst of chaos, she turned around and looked out to the front lawn through the opened doors. In front of the huge fountain, Lena was hunching on the red motorbike and sidecar. Yulia couldn’t believe her eyes. Not only Lena got the vehicle she wanted, she had taken one of Yulia’s brown, taxi jackets with her. Though her hands were still stained with blood. It was better to escape now when everyone was still clueless who the shooter was. At this moment, she could walk through the mansion as a guest, and stole the vehicle unchecked. “YOU! ARE! CRAZY!” Yulia sprinted out to the fountain. She never thought she could run this fast, but she did. She leapt onto the sidecar just in time before the motorbike picked up its full speed. She struggled to sit properly in the sidecar and looked up. “THE GATE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” The guards at the gates held up their guns, but hesitated when they spotted who was in the sidecar. However, Lena wasn’t slow down one bit. Yulia shut her eyes tightly. “Ms. Volkova! Ms. Volkova! It’s Ms. Volkova!” “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot, or my father will shoot you!” Before the guards knew, Lena shot them all down. Another shot burst the steely lock open, and the motorbike flew past the gates into the small road ahead. Yulia looked back into the ranch, seeing other men getting into their cars. “You’re doomed! You can’t outrun them!” Lena made a swift turn into the vast field. Yulia ducked her head down, avoiding the slaps from the tall grasses. Further into the field, the motorbike eventually stopped, and Lena climbed off. “Can you at least tell me what’s going on here!? Where exactly are we going!?” Yulia was exasperated, sitting tightly in the sidecar still. “He’s here… Yes, he’s here… Fuck… He’s here…” Lena growled and blindly waved the gun before her, opening the way deeper into the field. She closed her eyes and suddenly laughed aloud, pointing the gun up to the skies. Yulia followed Lena into the dark, thinking the Irish had gone mad. “No! Don’t do it, or they’ll catch us—” Lena fiercely turned, pressing the gun at Yulia’s forehead. Seeing Lena’s intent stare, Yulia expected a bullet in her brain right then. But, for a split second, she was marveled by the moments of her life flashing before her eyes. Those moments meant so little to her, but she now dearly clung to them. Yulia fixed her gaze upon Lena, staring back at the pale, sweat-beaded face. Even though this moment might be her last on earth, fear somehow escaped her. It amazed her to realize that nothing meant anything at this moment but the air inside her lungs. How disgustingly insignificant life really was? Hastily, Yulia pulled Lena in time before the woman fell backwards. Stumbling in each other’s grasps, they fell to the ground. All the while, Lena was murmuring something Yulia could not understand. “What!?” Yulia asked. “Lighter… than a… feather…” “Jesus, you are not making any sense, and I am going crazy!” A force from the wind bent the grasses lower and a black car appeared before them. Lena then pushed Yulia’s hands away, weakly crawling through the grasses and getting into the driver seat. “Holy Mary! Is this yours!? You’re a genius!” Lena’s hands trembled as she started the engine. “Excuse me, but get out of the way, please!” Yulia pushed Lena to the passenger seat and occupied the driver seat instead. With a mischievous look in her eyes, she tossed the first aid kit onto Lena’s laps. “Ha! I’m gonna be busy driving, so help yourself!” Laughing, Yulia stomped on the accelerator, and the car started cruising away. It must have been midnight already. Her Christmas wish had turned out to be something more than Yulia had asked for. She sped up as she glanced at Lena, who was feebly pressing a patch of clean cloth against her wound, almost ready to pass out. It was all darkness ahead. There was only a full moon above the mist of the green grasses that loomed a good few feet above the car. She wasn’t scared though. They were heading out to safety somewhere, and wherever the road would take them, she couldn’t wait for it. |
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Irina Slutskaya the champion of my heart I salute you! I know it's not the correct order of the colors of the Russian flag, but I want Irina in blue anyway. Yeehaw! |
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23-06-2005, 17:38 | #28 |
Uhaku's alter ego
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Forgot this little chap. LOL
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Chapter 15 Here we were, seventy years after that bloody Christmas. Although it was already midnight, we neglected the celebration for once. We were wide-eyed, listening to Volkova’s silenced dream. My grandfather was in fact a mafia? I couldn’t help but felt it was like a dream. He had an extraordinary bond with these two women, but somehow neglected to mention them to us. I was a little puzzled at first when reading the journal. Now, with Volkova’s side of the story combined with the journal, the pieces of puzzles gradually came together. From the look on my relatives’ faces, I knew that we now wanted to know more than just our beloved Roland Myer’s life. Each of us never knew of the Irish’s existence, and it intrigued us of what she did, what she had become, or where she was now if she were still alive. When I see the water in Volkova’s eyes, I knew she was starting to feel sleepy. “A coffee, please,” Volkova said, taking me by surprise. “Oh, anyone else?” “Yes, me too,” Kate quickly responded. She would be the last to miss this session. “That would be great. Thank you.” “Count me in for the night ride!” “I’d like one as well.” Volkova then looked at me, and I just smiled. “A coffee for everyone then,” Volkova said to the maids, who were sitting on the chairs by the living room’s door. They hurried into the kitchen to make some coffee for their master and guests, fearing they might miss the next part. “So did Lena—the Irish die?” Kate asked and glanced at me. At this point, I wondered if it was just a coincidence my grandfather named me ‘Lena’. As far as I knew, my grandmother’s name was Teresa, and her hair was naturally dark brown. She looked nothing like what Volkova had described the Irish. “We all die at some point, dear Kate,” Volkova said, perking her chin up, sniffing the soft brew of the coffee brought in by the maids. “Ah, I wish you two would work as quickly as this everyday,” she sneered. I took a cup from the tray and asked, “Did he name me after her?” I kept my gaze down on the nicely carpeted floor, but I could feel everyone’s stare upon me. I still couldn’t figure out why my grandfather would pick me. I looked every inch of an Italian woman. “I would have no reason to object your theory. Lena was always in our minds, our hearts. No matter how long it had been, she’d live and breathed through us. She’d never leave us… She’d never leave me…” Behind the pair of golden-rimmed glasses, Volkova’s usually fiery, blue gaze dimmed down in melancholy at the last phrase. And I could see that the truth was the other way around; the Irish left her. |
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Irina Slutskaya the champion of my heart I salute you! I know it's not the correct order of the colors of the Russian flag, but I want Irina in blue anyway. Yeehaw! |
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24-06-2005, 00:39 | #29 |
BiAtch
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That last line sentence in chapter 15 just made me eager for more! Thanks for the long update.....and an action filled one at that!!
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24-06-2005, 02:17 | #30 | |
the likeness of a human
Join Date: Jan 2003
Age: 44
Gender: Female
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Awesome update, btw. |
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24-06-2005, 06:10 | #31 |
think again....
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wow
i like the bang bang part...jejeje |
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mY SITE |
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24-06-2005, 09:53 | #32 |
Новенький
Join Date: Jun 2005
Posts: 34
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Volk rocks!
Damn!!! I got goosebumps especially during the last chapter!!!
I have a question though. When Lena is saying "lighter than a feather", well apart from the fact that I have no idea what it means, does it have something to do with the prologue? Did we reach that part? My only guess for the phrase would be for when death comes, whether her soul will be lighter than a feather in order to go to heaven. I'm sure I have heard of a story that goes like that! Hmmmm!!! I can't wait!!!! Oh, and Yulia is still the best!!!! And it is so sad that the Irish left her... Thanks for the update!!! |
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Dreams aren't perfect; they come true; not free! |
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24-06-2005, 16:07 | #33 |
Uhaku's alter ego
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thanksss, showmelove, and Mel, phew, i'm glad u ok with the update. ^_^'
for anyone: I have one question though. Someone told me that while she's reading this, the story feels like it's in present day. Do you guys feel the same way? I'm curious 'cus if you do, i'll try to be more careful in the future. Any suggestion on what I should do to improve this area? Don't be shy or intimidated. As always, I'm here to improve. Thanks again. warx that awful soud, bang, bang, u shot me down. volkster It's from the prologue, yesss. But no, we haven't reached that part. I will explain the story in the next few chapters soon. And the Irish "left" her? Umm, i'd say not exactly. I'll just say that is Lena Myer's POV, or her assumption at the present point of the story. |
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Irina Slutskaya the champion of my heart I salute you! I know it's not the correct order of the colors of the Russian flag, but I want Irina in blue anyway. Yeehaw! |
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25-06-2005, 05:24 | #34 |
BiAtch
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Nah, I dont feel as if the fic is being told in the present, you established from the beginning that "old" Volkova was telling a story about her past. So when I am reading it, thats how I interpret it, as if Volkova is reliving her memories.
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25-06-2005, 17:37 | #35 | |
Новенький
Join Date: Jun 2005
Posts: 34
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But, if there are people that may have trouble keeping up with present and past maybe you could put in some narration from Volkova. You know, before each time we visit the past. Does that make sense? |
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Dreams aren't perfect; they come true; not free! |
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26-06-2005, 01:28 | #36 |
Участник
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Just cos old volkova is telling a story about her memories doesnt mean that the narration is written accordingly to the time diff ... its about how ppl from that time talked... do u think volkova and lena living on 30s would speak like they do in the fic?... also costumes and so on...
BUt anyway uhaku u know i love u and support u |
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I never ask her to swallow my spunk until I go down on her first. It's just common courtesy Die Bug Die!!!!! Its urs osita.. |
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26-06-2005, 05:12 | #37 | |
BiAtch
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28-06-2005, 15:48 | #38 |
Uhaku's alter ego
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Ah, thanks Crampy. U got my lazy ass to go and check on Casablanca (1942).
Ok, I think I’d still make some sense if I were to transport back to 1930s. LOL! But I think it might be slightly off. Gotta make sure with a native English speaker but I couldn’t find them nowhere. BTW, it is my lazy ass again not having described enough of the clothing aspect, assuming everyone is a fan of black and white movies like me. Spank me! Thanks Volkster and ShowmeLove. I’m glad u picked up on the mink and all. Not that it means much. LOL. I hope I keep the Cadillac and motorbike/sidecar in your mind! Ride on! >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>> CHAPTER 16 “More whiskey?” Dimitri Volkov broke the silence in his dark, study room. He was in his pajamas and a pair of glasses. This private meeting was immediately held after he warded the police off his ranch with bribes, or threats. Senator Iver sat himself on the couch, waving his hand lightly in refusal. He had no choice but to remain here until his driver could think of a plan to leave the ranch unseen by the journalists waiting at the entrance. A politician like him wouldn’t like being caught in a scandalous party inside the home of a notorious gangster, who happened to be one of his most trusted friends. “I thought that one of the guests was the shooter, but under this bizarre circumstance in which nobody seemed to know the exact identity of our guy… I had my men checked and the record showed a few guests who didn’t show up. You must have known who they are by now,” Dimitri said, studying Victor’s calm face. He had solely meant the Irish. No one in his recent memory managed a miraculous escape from an outrageous murder such as this but Lena Cohen. “Your daughter is missing, I believe,” Victor said quietly. Dimitri had had enough. “Oh, Victor! Victor, please! We’re friends, for Christ’s sake! It’s ridiculous to speak to me this way! Yulia can’t shoot a wall for the love of God! I’m not trying to frame Irish, but you know how it looks!” The senator rolled his eyes in exhaustion. The night had been too long for everyone. “No invitation card simply meant she wasn’t here from the start. She’s out of the picture.” “Mitch told me about Frederick’s misdeed and Irish’s disappearance the past week. Frederick died tonight, and it looks very likely that the shooter was her!” “It was impossible that she’d be carrying weapons inside your ranch, unchecked.” Dimitri washed down his drink. “My daughter must have helped her…” “Yulia isn’t that stupid to get involved in this mess.” “I really hope you’re right, Victor. I goddamn hope you’re right.” Victor thought for a second. “How about that Roland Myer?” “This kid only knew how to lie to women, but he didn’t have the guts to lie to me. I believe he didn’t know a thing,” Dimitri said, staring at his friend. “One shot in the chest, two shots in the head, done in the middle of a huge crowd. Now, that was rude, Victor. Just reckless and disrespectful! You stood up for her once, which was understandable. But you can’t keep protecting her! You have too much to lose for a girl you barely know!” Staring at the parquet floor, Victor tightly clasped his hands together until his knuckles went white. “Don’t think I ever wanted to risk for her. Don’t you think that,” he said firmly. “But you are doing it again!” “Dimitri!” Victor raised his voice, and he easily commanded the scene. “I needed to solve Mason’s incident because it was indirectly concerning my reputation. I’m not protecting her this time even if she really were the one who shot Frederick.” “You’ll be a great defendant in court, Victor. You sound most sincere when you’re not,” Dimitri said, scoffing and pouring another drink for himself. “Mason’s case was different. He was gone without a smartass sidekick to take over. His three-year-old son died when the place was burnt down… But Holden Young would never stop until he had the justice and saved the reputation of his father’s gang. You shouldn’t put yourself in his way. You are not a hoodlum, Victor! You’re a politician, and you’d be the president of the United States one day!” “That’s a plan far too ambitious for me,” Victor said briskly. “You may be right. You’re too kind to be one.” Dimitri lazily nodded. He knew this friend of his would never reveal his thoughts to anyone. This man was as cold as a marble, unexpectedly dangerous like fire. He was the kind of person Dimitri would imagine as the Irish’s father, which he truly happened to have the honor. Victor first met his illegitimate daughter after Mason’s murder made the headline. It was the crime of hate, and its reward was the revenge the Irish seek. She got it all right. “You can’t save her again. She’ll need to learn how to be a proper gangster for once! Chicago does have rules! The slaughter put us in a dangerous spotlight, attracting too much attention. But an outlaw stick with another outlaw, Victor. I don’t have any other choice but to join Holden,” Dimitri said with finality. “I still insist I have no insight about this murder. Merry Christmas,” Victor said with finality. He then got up and put on his suit jacket before leaving the room. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> CHAPTER 17 Strong rays of light pierced through the gap between the curtains, shining over Lena’s bare feet that slipped out of the blanket. Lena had just woke up and found herself in a small room. Besides the bed she laid upon, there were only a wooden chair and a round table at the corner. She couldn’t remember how or when she got here. Even though she wasn’t trying to move, the sore in her wound sharply stung. Volkova walked in with a brown bag, filled with foods and drinks. “Hi…” The word slipped through Volkova’s mouth. Her blue eyes widened, she looked as though she was seeing a ghost. But Lena thought the look was rather positive when a smile came across Yulia’s face. “What are you doing here?” Lena whispered with her voice dry. She remembered Volkova appeared in her distant, interrupted dreams. “You really don’t want me here, do you?” Yulia said. She went straight to the table and put the bag down. From the look on Lena’s face, Lena must have forgotten that she had woken up several times during the past few days, asking the same question over and over again. She had Yulia stayed up for three nights straight. “Tonya’s father often helped some fugitives in town, and he always suggested this place to them. I figured it’d be good for you here. We’re not too far from downtown, and yes, it’s dangerous. But if we were to go to the country, I couldn’t have gotten the help you needed. You’d probably be dead by now… Oh, don’t worry. The landlord only cared if he’d get the money. He even took the bullet out for you. He was quite at ease with it, too! I supposed he must have done it a few times before.” Frowning, Lena lifted the blanket up a little, peeking down. Beneath the white, large, cotton shirt she was wearing, a bandage was wrapped around her torso, tightened the wound. Yulia watched Lena, studying her. She recalled how Lena twisted in the bed and finally passed out because of the pain. The landlord had given her some anesthetic he stored downstairs. “You’ve been unconscious for three days. I thought you wouldn’t make it.” Lena couldn’t believe that she had been unconscious that long. How was Roland dealing with all of this? What was waiting for her out there? “Can you sit up?” Yulia asked. She unpacked the foods and brought it to the bed. “I’m not hungry,” Lena muttered. In fact, she started to feel hungry, but opted to lie still, not wanting the pain to spread any wider. Squealing like a pig in front of Volkova wasn’t the best idea to her. Yulia perked her chin up. “Okay, lie still. I know it hurts, but you must have some foods. Come, be a good girl for once.” She then shoved a spoonful into Lena’s mouth. “How’s… Roland…?” Lena spoke with a mouthful. “The public may not know who the shooter was, but I believe the inner circle already knew. Mr. Myer must be going crazy right now, trying to find you before anyone else does.” “You helped me…” Lena murmured. “I had the most fun ride ever, Ms. Cohen. You entertained me much that night.” Lena stared at Yulia. Yulia looked away and sighed. “You’re Mr. Myer’s friend, and I’m sure he doesn’t want to see you captured.” “I would have made it without you—” Yulia interrupted Lena with another spoonful. “Is that so? Face it, Irish. You escaped Mason, yes. But Mitch could have killed the legend.” Lena paused. “Did he know it was me?” “Anyone might have guessed it by now. My father must have had my room checked and saw the blood on the bed. Angela would assure him that the blood wasn’t mine. The best bet is my father knows I helped you, but I’m not sure how long he can keep it secret.” Lena caught the worried look in Yulia’s eyes. “You should go home before this gets out. It’d make your father look bad. I want no accomplice in this.” Yulia looked down, deep in thought. As expected, the bloody Christmas episode made first- page headline the next day, and Yulia found herself a kidnapped victim in the story. She thought about ringing Roland but eventually chose not to. If Lena wanted to pull Roland into this mess, he would have known of her plan from the start. Yulia realized how much Lena cared for her companion, and decided to respect it. “Should I ring Mr. Myer now?” Volkova asked quietly. She wasn’t sure it was the best idea to leave Lena alone. The soft tone surprised Lena, however, it relieved her because she didn’t have the energy to fight at the moment. Staring up at the ceiling, Lena just shook her head tiredly. She soon fell asleep again. Yulia gathered her purse, worn stockings and some of the new shirts she gave some money to the landlord to buy for her. She thought about going home as soon as she dropped Lena here three days ago, knowing her parents must be worried. But Lena’s then condition was worse than she thought. Now that Lena was becoming more lucid, it seemed to be the time to leave. |
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Irina Slutskaya the champion of my heart I salute you! I know it's not the correct order of the colors of the Russian flag, but I want Irina in blue anyway. Yeehaw! |
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28-06-2005, 22:50 | #39 | |
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29-06-2005, 11:57 | #40 |
BiAtch
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The Irish father is Victor??? That was a surprise! Will Yulia really leave Lena there?? Will she ever ride (Irish) in her cadillac again?? I will stay tuned for the answers! BTW the sidecar bit with Lena and Yulia riding, I must admit had me cracking up....oh the visual
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