MISCHA GAVE HER ARMS a long stretch and smiled at the ceiling. She was lying naked on a bed in a little bedroom. The pillows and comforter were all over the floor. A chair lay overturned.353Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3kk7ZIPgAj
She got up, feeling the full effects of last night. Every muscle was sore, every movement painful. Her head was pounding.
And she felt great!
She found a cotton robe in an adjoining bathroom and threw it on. She walked into the large main room, where everything had started last night with Benito. There was no sign of him. She sighed. He was a man of his word. "Just one night," he said.
Just one night, but everything was different. The dose of fantasy had been a dose of reality. Whatever she'd tasted last night, not love but something---she had to have that something. She wouldn't become Nicole Richie, dabbling in occasional affairs to keep life interesting. She wouldn't be Rihanna, living with a mysterious, distant man she no longer new.
Zoe and Hania. It'd be hard. But it wasn't like they lived with Mischa much anyway. She'd probably leave the motion picture and television industry, move somewhere close to their boarding school in upstate New York. Hey, she'd ask them if they even wanted to stay in boarding school. Sebastian hadn't given them much choice. But screw him. She wasn't playing a role in a film now. Not for another day. She was done.
No---she was just beginning. She hadn't been playing someone else this weekend. She'd become someone else.
Rihanna stumbled into the main room. She looked like someone else, too, but not in a good way. Her hair was flat and her eyes dull and bloodshot. She had on a large T-shirt and her legs were bare.
"Top o' the mornin'," she said in a mock-Irish accent. "Was it fun?"
"They're gone," she said, retrieving a bottle of Perrier from the refrigerator.
"Diego, Renaud and Gilbert?"353Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKxSGaN4ux7
She nodded and sank into a chair.
"And that disappoints you?" Mischa asked. "Did you expect a whirlwind romance from those characters?"
She started to answer---and that's when they heard it. Some kind of commotion outside. Something chaotic. People shouting. The noise of urgent footsteps rattling on the dock.
And then Mischa remembered something, something tickling her from the recesses of her memory last night. A noise, a bang....
"What the fuck----?" Rihanna said.
----a burst, muted and distant, several in succession....
"What the bloody hell?" Mischa said.
-----a gunshot? Yes! Guns were going off!
And then the unmistakable sound of the yacht's door bursting open, the pounding of footsteps entering the yacht, men's voices shouting something in French. Rihanna and Mischa jumped to their feet.
Just as three commandos, in full combat gear, rushed into the cabin and trained assault rifles on the two actresses!
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