Page 109 of Bound By Hate (Born in Blood)

Chapter

Seventeen

VIKTORIYA

My ankle creaks as I walk down the street. I must have tweaked it when I fell the day before, further ruining my chances to dance.

I have no idea where I’m going. I just know I need to get out of Aleksander’s house. I need space from him. He’s in my head, and I don’t know what to do with that.

I packed a bag of clothes, money, and some food, but nothing else. For the first time in my life, I’m a wanderer.

Leaving was surprisingly easy. I waited until Aleksander left for work, and then I left. The housekeeper was busy cleaning the house, so she didn’t see me go. I know not to use my credit card again. Aleksander tracked me once before with it. He’ll easily do it again.

I keep walking until I find a park and sit on a bench. What am I doing? Why am I fighting so hard to stay at a distance with Aleksander? I wish I could just give myself fully to him, but hewants me to give up dance for him. I proved yesterday that I’m not as good as I once was.

But I still can’t give it up. I need to dance. I need to get better.

I need to be happy.

And then, I know what I have to do.

After doing an internet search, I find the lead director of the Russian Ballet company. His name is Misha Novikov. His company dance studio isn’t too far from where I am now.

With a deep breath, I get up and walk to the studio. I’ll prove myself to him. I’ll show that I belong on a stage again. I won’t mess up like I did yesterday. I can’t.

The studio is packed with a class full of incredibly skinny women. A man stands at the front of the class, eyeing the women over critically as they dance.

I walk up to the receptionist. “I’m looking for Misha Novikov.”

She frowns and responds in Russian as she points to the classroom.

“I’ll just wait,” I say, taking a seat.

The moment the class ends, I rush into the room and walk up to Misha. “Mr. Novikov, I am Viktoriya Morozova.”

He glances me up and down. “Your name sounds familiar,” he says in a heavy Russian accent.

“I’m a principal dancer of the New York City Ballet. I’ve been dancing for years.”

He stands back and crosses his arms. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here now. I’m looking to get back on the stage.”

“You have a resume?”

I hesitate. “Not on me. But I can give you the number of the director of the New York City Ballet. She’ll tell you I’m legitimate.”

“I think I’ve seen one of your shows. With your sisters, yes?”

“Yes! I’m more than qualified to perform again.”

“Then perform for me right now. Let me see you dance.”

My stomach plummets to my feet. “Right now?’

“Yes. Now. I know you’re a good dancer, but are you good enough for my company? Prove it.”

“Yes, sir.” I have to prove myself to him, and I will. I’m going to make it happen.

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