Page 40 of Power and Possession

The orchestra started up, and my eyes were suddenly fixed to the stage. I knew that this theater was only used for operas occasionally, and I felt privileged to be able to see one here. I wasn’t super into history, but knowing some of the story behind this magnificent theater humbled me.

From the very beginning, I was enthralled. I’d seenLa Bohèmebefore, but this time the complicated and complex relationship between Mimi and Rudolfo took on a new meaning for me. I found myself comparing their similarities to my unorthodox relationship with Steele. By the end of act one, when they belted out their final notes, I was in tears.

The house lights came on during intermission, and Steele looked over at me. I knew I was a mess, my make-up running and my eyes bloodshot. His arms came up, and I assumed he was going to comfort me, and I couldn’t handle it.

“I’m going to go to the restroom,” I said, leaving my clutch on the chair. I dashed out of the box, disappearing into the crowd, heading for the bathroom. I waited in line, and then finally a stall opened up at the end.

The noise of the chattering women drowned out the sound of my sobs. I had never felt so confused before. Did I have feelings for Steele? Was that why every note hit me so hard? Or was it the fact that I might never find my true Rudolfo? I sank down to the floor, my back against the wall, not caring if I ruined the expensive dress on the floor of the bathroom. Grabbing some tissue from the dispenser, I blew my nose and tried to pull myself together. I wiped my mascara from my cheeks and then stood up, hoping to go back to my seat unnoticed, the darkness of the theater hiding my face.

As I made my way back to the box, a man bumped into me rather harshly. I turned around to yell at him, annoyed at how rude he was, but instead, the tall man just thrust a cell phone into my hand and then disappeared into the crowd. It was an old-fashioned flip phone, and I was immediately confused. The phone was open, and I went to close it, but then I suddenly heard my name coming out of the tiny speaker.

“Ashlynn? Ashlynn?”

I pressed the phone to my ear, my mouth gaping as I listened to my father’s voice.

“I don’t have much time, Ashlynn. I need you to listen. My men know where you are, and we have a plan in place to retrieveyou. I can’t take you now, because that goddamn asshole has security all over the place, but one of his security team members is working for me. Be patient. Get rid of this phone, right now. I wouldn’t put it past that demon to frisk you.”

Before I could say anything, ask one of the million questions that were on my mind, the line went dead. I closed my mouth, knowing I looked like a codfish. I quickly glanced around the area, making sure Steele was nowhere in sight. I had no idea if he had men inside the theater, but I dumped the phone in the nearest trash can and made my way back to my seat so Steele wouldn’t notice the delay.

Steele looked at me, concern etched on his face when he saw me. For a split second, I wondered if he knew my father had contacted me. He patted the seat next to him, and I sat down nervously.

“Are you alright? I know it’s an emotional opera.”

My heart raced even faster. He didn’t suspect anything. I willed my breathing to slow, trying not to give away my thumping pulse.

“La Bohèmewas the last opera I saw with my mother.” I was surprised at the ease of the lie, and how it slipped off my tongue so quickly.

Steele’s face morphed into one of sympathy, and he took my hand in his, placing it back on his knee possessively. He squeezed it, showing his acknowledgment of my sorrow, and my heart gave a painful thud. Would my father hurt Steele? How was he going to rescue me? There was a part of me that didn’t want to see Steele hurt. It seemed like such a waste, that this handsome, intelligent man might cease to exist.

I quickly looked ahead, trying to immerse myself back intoLa Bohème. I couldn’t feel sympathy for my captor.

But instead of watching it, my head swam as I considered all my options. I had no way of getting ahold of my father, no way to know his intentions toward Steele. However, I assumed they would be lethal, and my heart gave another uncomfortable lurch when I pictured Steele on his knees, with a gun to his head.As the light went out behind his pretty blue eyes in my vision, I gave an audible sniffle.

Steele put his arm around me again, pulling me into his chest slightly, wrongly assuming I was emotional from the loss of my mother. His touch made it even worse, and I wanted to shrug off his arm, the guilt eating away at my stomach.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Steele

I only took Ashlynn to the opera to dangle her in front of the society pages, hoping someone would report on her and it would get back to Phillips and make him livid. I also knew Masten would be there, so it was a perfect time to let him know that he should expect his delivery from my men on Friday. Since this heist was such a big deal, I’d personally oversee the transfer. One wrong move, and my whole empire could come crashing down upon me. If even the slightest hint was laid, and one museum somewhere realized they had fakes in their galleries, the repercussions would be felt worldwide as others had their pieces authenticated. I was fairly confident that our fakes would pass by the harshest critic, and I was on enough boards to bury anything out of the ordinary, but it was still risky.

Ashlynn breathed quickly next to me, and I felt her lungs expand with each breath she took. I hadn’t realized how much this opera would affect her. I felt like an absolute ass, bringing her here and stirring up painful memories.

When she sniffled, the guilt got the better of me. I leaned in and whispered in her ear. She jumped, and I wasn’t sure if she was nervous about me touching her, or if she was just so preoccupied with memories that she had forgotten where she was at.

“Do you want to leave?” Her eyes met mine, and I could tell that her make-up had run all over her face.

She nodded, getting to her feet. I did the same, placingmy hand on the small of her back to help guide her out of the box. We walked to the car quickly; I figured she was most likely embarrassed about breaking down in front of me. She was so strong—I hated to see her like this. No matter how much she pissed me off or how often she talked back to me, I never wanted her fire to diminish.

I opened the door to the car for her and she slid in, her face focused ahead. I got in and started the engine, turning up the heat so she’d be comfortable in the revealing dress I’d made her wear.

The silence dragged on, and I felt like I had done something majorly wrong. She had been pissed at me before, but she seemed to enjoy my touch earlier, so I figured it was the opera and the pain it inflicted on her.

I took a deep breath. I was never this reckless, but when it came to Ashlynn, all bets were off.

“I was born in a jail cell.”

Her head whipped around, and she took a large intake of air.

---