Page 104 of Bound By Hate (Born in Blood)

I huff and scoot my chair back, standing up. “It’s protected me all my life. I can’t let it fall. Even for you.” Last night, I let myself admit I was falling for Aleksander, but in the light of day, I see how foolish that is. I can’t let myself fall for a man like him—one born in the slums who’ll never be worthy of me, not in a million years.

Aleksander sits back in his seat, observing me. It makes me feel like I’m under a microscope. I hate him. I have to. There’s no other choice.

“I have an idea,” he finally says.

“You always have ideas. I hate your ideas.”

“You want to dance again. That’s obvious. So, why don’t we put on a show here? I can invite people over. I can set up a stage in the backyard. And you can dance for our guests. Would that help?”

Panic spikes through my chest. He’s offering me a chance to dance again. That’s all I’ve wanted for the past year. So, why is the thought of dancing again so terrifying?

Because I’m no longer perfect.

Aleksander has made me aware of my faults. He’s made me confront my fears. I’m no longer the Ice Queen. I’m becoming more and more just … Vik. I’ve never been just Vik. Sure, that’s what my sisters call me, but I’ve never thought of myself like that. I’ve always been Viktoriya Morozova, Ice Queen. Frigid Bitch. Take your pick.

“You want me to dance?” I ask slowly.

“I can tell how much it’s paining you not to be able to do it. So, I can make it happen. I can assemble a stage for you, and you can dance for our guests. It will be on a smaller scale than what you’re used to, but you have to start somewhere.”

“Re-start,” I say. “Re-start somewhere.”

His smile deepens. “Exactly. So, what do you say?”

“You’d do that for me?”

For just a moment, Aleksander’s expression turns serious. “I would do anything for you, Viktoriya.”

For the first time, I feel the urge to make Aleksander proud. It’s no longer my father in my mind.

I tell Aleksander exactly what I’m feeling: “I would love to dance again.”

I just hope that speaking my truth will set me free.

With Aleksander’s connections, it doesn’t take long for the stage to be built in the backyard. There’s a part of me that kind of wished it would have taken longer.

I stare down at my outfit. It’s a leotard with a flowy, short dress over it and skin-colored tights. My ballet shoes are resting on the floor. I haven’t worn them in a year.

I stand on my ankle, testing the weight of it. It doesn’t buckle, which is good. But I feel a slight twinge, letting me know my ankle will never fully be the same.

Iwill never fully be the same.

Putting on the outfit is easy. It’s the shoes that are the hard part. Slipping them on feels like a second skin, but it also reminds me of everything I’ve been through in the past year. My broken ankle. The healing process. Gleb and the auction and Akim. Killing Akim. Marrying Aleksander.

I’m a changed woman.

I’m just not sure if it’s for better or worse.

Once I’m dressed, I stare at myself in the full-length mirror. I look like a ballet dancer. But can I move like a ballet dancer?

I do a test plie, rising on the tips of my toes. My ankle remains steady.

But then it wobbles, and I stumble forward, catching myself.

I can’t do this. I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready again.

The bedroom door opens, and Aleksander walks in. “Our guests are arriving.” He looks me over. “You’re beautiful.”

“You’ve never seen me in a ballet outfit before.”

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