Adrian made good on his promise.
Getting through rehearsal is torture. I can feel him with every move, every jump, and every damn step. I had to wear boy shorts to cover the welts on my upper thighs. Every time I touch them, I recall last night and the amount of pleasure I got out of it.
The dark type.
The type that’s hushed in corners and kept secret.
Then I recall how I felt when I thought he’d been shot. I shouldn’t have had that reaction. I shouldn’t have been worried, pained, and damn confused.
He’s a mobster, a killer.
But those facts seem to fade day by day whether I like it or not.
After this morning, I feel closer to him more than ever. As if a bridge is building between us slowly but surely. It might be fragile, but it’s there.
Something’s changed.
I could feel it when he fucked me against the shower wall and when we prepared breakfast together like it was a normal occurrence. I felt it when he sat me down on the counter just so he could kiss me. And I sure as hell felt it when he kissed me again before he stepped out.
Those aren’t things a man would do with his whore.
My long day is finally over when Philippe announces it’s a wrap. This is one of our last rehearsals before the opening next week.
I’ve never been this excited about a performance. About taking on a character as complex as Giselle.
Ryan releases me, turns around, and heads to the dressing room without a glance back. I love the type of relationship we have formed since the night at the club—professional. That’s how it was supposed to be from the beginning.
Hannah gets in my face as soon as he’s out of view. “What the fuck did you do to him, bitch?”
I allow myself a taunting smile. “Why don’t you ask him what he did?”
“He won’t talk to me!”
“Doesn’t seem like my problem. He got what was coming to him.” I lean in to whisper, “You deserve each other.”
And with that, I leave her and head to Stephanie.
She smiles, interlacing her arm with mine. “Come with us to this great company opening Matt invited us to.”
“I don’t know, Steph.”
“Don’t leave me alone with Philippe and how he randomly switches to French when he’s drunk, as if the world is fluent in the language.”
“Then curses you when you speak in English?”
“Exactly, girl. Come on, it’ll be just the three of us.”
“Fine.” I don’t have anything to do, anyway, and I need to stop thinking about Adrian for one night.
Or try to.
After this morning, I want to see him again more than I ever have before.
“Yes! I love you forever.” Stephanie walks with me.
I grin back as a response.
She stops in front of my dressing room and pinches my cheek. “You’re glowing more lately.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. Is your lover the reason why your Giselle is so haunting?”
“I-I don’t have a lover.”
“Of course you do. He’s the reason why you hurry home every night and refuse my and Philippe’s invitations.”
“That’s…how did you know?”
“It’s clear if anyone focuses hard enough. Lately, you seem to be firmly on the ground instead of floating somewhere no one sees you. You need to introduce me to Mr. Hot Stuff.”
“It’s not serious,” I murmur. Adrian is not my lover and never will be. What are we, anyway? We can’t be friends with benefits because we’re not friends.
Sex partners? Probably, but do sex partners go to the lengths Adrian does to make sure I’m fully comfortable?
“How about you invite him to our opening?”
“Huh?”
“Yes!” She claps her hands. “It would be the perfect opportunity for him to see your Giselle and for us to spy on the man who got your heart.”
“He doesn’t have my heart,” I say defensively, then pause at the thought Stephanie just planted in my head.
Should I invite Adrian?
Since he’s part of the reason for how I shaped my Giselle, I’m sure I’ll perform even better knowing he’s there.
Or worse.
I shouldn’t take that risk, but at the same time, a part of me wants him there. In the midst of the thousand strangers, I want to step onto the stage, knowing Adrian’s among them.
“I guess I can ask him,” I tell Stephanie, who squeals.
“I’m getting you a VIP ticket.” She winks at me and hurries down the hall.
I laugh at her enthusiasm and go in to change.
Half an hour later, I’m wearing a blue dress with a double V-neck, complementing the look with a dainty sterling silver necklace—the only memory I have of Mom.
My heart tugs at the reminder of her and I tuck those black memories to the back of my brain. I wear low heels and let my hair fall in loose waves down my shoulders before I put on my coat and meet Stephanie and Philippe.
She shoves a VIP ticket in my hand, grinning like an idiot.
“Chérie.” Philippe kisses my cheek as we walk to his car. “I’m glad you could join us.”
“I won’t make it a habit.”
“I’m happy with what I can get. Don’t spoil my fun.”
We leave the theater together in the midst of glares from other dancers. I learned to tune out their envy a long time ago. Adrian was right, in a way. If I care too much, I’ll be the only one who suffers.
Matt, who’s tall and obese, meets us at the venue where the event is being held. Apparently, it’s the opening for some subsidiary of a large corporation named V Corp. Our producer has associates here and owns some shares. While leading us inside, he keeps reminding us to be on our best behavior like we’re children.
The hall is enormous and majestic as is expected of a large corporation. Gold glitters everywhere as if they want to shove the fact that they have money down everyone’s throats.
Men in tuxedos and women in gowns are scattered all around, chatting happily.
I’m glad Philippe and Stephanie ignore the commotion, choosing to attack the long lines of the buffet and the open bar.
I climb onto a stool and wait for them to stop arguing over which food is fattening and join me.
“What can I get you, miss?” the bartender asks.
“Nothing.” The voice coming from my right gives me pause.
The young bartender pales before he retreats to the corner, going to serve the customer farthest away from me.
I stare up to find Yan, Adrian’s younger guard with the long hair, standing by my side, his face as stoic as usual. “You need to leave, miss.”
That’s the first time he’s ever addressed me in the month I’ve known Adrian. He has a subtle Russian accent that resembles Adrian’s, but it’s less sophisticated.
Wait. If Yan is here, does that mean his boss is here, too?
I hate the fluttering in my belly as I stare around Yan, searching for the most threatening and dangerous man in the room.
“Miss.” Yan repeats, impatiently this time.
“Why do I need to leave?”
“You have to.”
“Says who?”
“Boss.”
“Well, your boss doesn’t get to tell me what to do. And if he has something to say, why doesn’t he do it himself?”
Yan’s gaze shifts sideways as if he’s nervous or lost about what to do. “You can follow me willingly or I’ll have to carry you out by force.”
My lips part. “What the hell?”
“Orders are orders.”
“Are you a robot?”
He pauses at that as if he’s offended. “By force, then.”
Yan grabs my hand and pulls me down from the stool. I’m about to scream the whole place down when I catch a scene over Yan’s shoulder.
Adrian.
He’s wearing a black tux that flatters his tall, muscular body. It’s the first time I’ve see him in such formal clothes and it suits him to perfection, making him appear like the latest hot model on a men’s magazine. His hair is styled back and his lips are tilted in a smile.
One he doesn’t give me.
One that’s now directed at a slender blonde with stunning features and a bombshell body to go with it. She doesn’t need to be naked to showcase it either. Her red dress is long-sleeved and stops right above her knees. It’s modest and beautiful, giving her a classy look I could never pull off.
She touches Adrian’s arm as she speaks, and he continues smiling, obviously enjoying the gesture.
Yan follows my field of vision, then mutters, “Fuck.”
“Who is she?” I murmur, my tongue heavy in my throat.
“You don’t need to know.”
“Is that the reason your boss wants me away from here?”
Yan’s lack of words is the only answer I need. I don’t know what I’m thinking when I shove away from him and march toward them. If anything, it’s like I’m not thinking at all.
Yan calls after me, but I’m faster, barging through people and getting cursed a thousand times.
There’s been a burn in my chest ever since I saw Adrian with that woman. I don’t know if it’s because he never takes me out, yet he accompanied her to a grand opening, or because he’s smiling at her and never does at me.
Or because he stood me up tonight for her.
It’s probably all of the above.
I stop right in front of them. Adrian stares down at me like I’m a stranger he’s meeting for the first time.
Worse. It’s like I’m a rock in his shoe.
“Excuse me?” the blonde asks, and her voice is as soft and classy as she is.
I glare up at him. “Explain this.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Adrian’s cold, harsh words stab me deeper than anything ever has.
An elderly man joins our circle. His features are solemn and he speaks with a Russian accent, “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know, Papa.” The blonde stares between me and Adrian. “This woman came out of nowhere.”
The elderly man, her father, watches me with a critical eye, all while I stare speechless at Adrian, trying to figure out what the hell he just said.
It must’ve been a figment of my imagination. Adrian didn’t just imply that I’m a stranger in front of his date.
“Do you know her, Volkov?” the man asks.
“No.” Adrian doesn’t look at me, his voice casual.
If I thought his earlier words hurt, these ones cut so deep, I feel the knife digging inside. The bridge I felt forming between us this morning dissolves into thin air.
Yan finally catches up to me and tries to pull me back by my wrist. I snap out of my daze, attempting to wiggle away. “That’s not—”
“Throw her out,” Adrian says to Yan, jabbing the knife deeper.
The old man looks at me again. “Do you know my daughter’s fiancé, young lady?”
I freeze.
Did he just say his daughter’s fiancé?
My gaze shifts from him to his daughter’s questioning eyes and then back to Adrian’s cold gray ones, and the only answer I can give under the circumstances tumbles from my throat, “No.”
And with that, I let Yan drag me out.
I’m too stunned, too shocked, to move on my own, so I follow his steps mindlessly.
“You should’ve come with me the first time,” Yan mutters under his breath.
Maybe so, but if I had, I wouldn’t have been shaken by this wake-up call.
Adrian has a fiancée. All blonde and beautiful and Russian.
I was only a game to him all this time.
