Viktor Pchyolkin

The nightclub was going about its business as usual. Music blared from the speakers, waiters scurried between tables, and people tried to shout over each other through the thick cigarette smoke.

Belov, Cosmos, Phil, and Pchela were sitting at one of the tables. The guys were arguing, laughing, and discussing business when the club doors opened.

Victor mechanically looked up and simply froze for a few seconds.

She looked vibrant, luxurious, and confident. A leather miniskirt, thigh-high boots, red satin blouse, and light coat with a fur collar made her stand out from the crowd. Her neat curls fell over her shoulders, and her silver eyeshadow shimmered whenever the spotlights slid across her face.

And yet, there was something strange about her. She didn't try to attract attention. She didn't look for rich men. She didn't play to the crowd.

It was as if she was here by accident.

Bee was so absorbed in his gaze that he didn’t even notice how Cosmos grinned as he followed his gaze.

"Oh-oh-oh, guys, just look at him, " Kholmogorov drawled contentedly. "Bee, what are you hanging around for?"

“That’s it, the guy’s gone, ” Phil laughed.

Sasha Belov just grinned, taking a sip from his glass.

• Go ahead, Vit, before someone quicker than you gets here.

“Oh, come on, ” Bee snorted, although he continued to look at the girl.

"Yeah, go ahead, " Cosmos laughed . "Your eyes are like a cat's eye on sour cream."

To the sound of friendly jeers, Victor rose from his seat, straightened his jacket and headed towards her.

Stopping next to her, he looked at the girl with a slight smile.

• Interesting...

Victor leaned over slightly, trying to catch her gaze.

"Usually girls look at me like they already know who I am. But you didn't even look up."

A sly smile appeared on his lips.

• Or are you pretending?

He extended his hand.

• Victor. And what is your name, beauty?