“Your Dasha is just sweet,” Makeev said, releasing a ring from the smoke.

- I know, - Ignatov liked the compliment, and he leaned back on the sofa, closing his eyes.

- I would plant her, - Makeev boldly looked at Ignatov.

If I were Ignatov, I would kill this moron. I don’t know where he came from, but I hadn’t seen him in our parties before. But, despite the fact that few people knew him, Denis Makeev was arrogant and self-confident.

Personally, I crossed paths with him only a few times, but this type did not inspire confidence in me. He was quirky, deceitful and simply unpleasant. But he...