Gripping his glass of vodka, Igor swore he heard his dead wife’s laugh.
His head whipped around to stare at the woman on stage.
The auburn-haired siren captured every man’s attention as she performed her burlesque number.
Throwing her head back, she laughed again as her hands glided down the length of her body.
Not his wife.
Another.
Different.
Igor wanted her.
She was his.
Only she didn’t know it yet.