Iryna Kuratoyev opened her lace parasol and quietly walked around the rose bushes in the garden, her tight red dress squeaked while her body moved. I hope that little Katsaros brat doesn't show up to ruin the serenity, like she usually does. Iryna tried to be relatively nice to the girl, but Sophie mostly just stared at her silently or ran off before Iryna could get out a word to her. Why Linden Murray kept the Katsaros bitch and her offspring here was beyond her.
Linden Murray. She reached into her purse and pulled out a clear bottle of vodka. Even thinking about the old man caused her to drink.
The alcohol burned her lips and throat, but she savored it. Having a hangover the next day is equivalent to a night with Linden Murray, so she figured she may as well do both and concentrate on the hangover. The obscene man was dying, but he still tries to have his way with anyone.
Iryna may be his fiancée, but she felt more like his main mistress. If it wasn't for her baby in Bulgaria and the money after the old man died, she would be off this rock of Hell in an instant.
But then again, there was at least someone on the island that thought she was special. All the staff of the villa despised her for what she truly was. Iryna used to be a maid in the estate up until three months previous, so that made her look like a gold digger.
Well, I am. But they don't have to make it so damn hard to be.