Page 44 of Shadow Dance

The club looks great tonight, though. Massive chandeliers hang from the ceilings, draped with glittering cobwebs, and fog swirls around our feet, illuminated by flashing purple and green lights. Skulls, candelabras, and floral arrangements of black roses and deep crimson lilies add a macabre touch. I have to admit, it’s pretty cool. There’s even a photo booth with a gothic throne against a backdrop of an enchanted forest. I motion toward it, wanting a closer look, but Callum shakes his head. “Later,” he mouths, nodding toward the bar where Uncle Dario and his wife, Gigi, are holding court.

I try not to stiffen as he leads me over, wishing we could just skip this part. Gigi is okay, but Dario De Leon gives me the creeps. He’s the current patriarch of the family and unlike his sister Paloma, who is Callum’s mother, Dario is condescending and brash. Sometimes I think his influence is as much to blame for Callum’s changes as the drugs.

I don’t know which of the people around Dario and Gigi, if any, are involved in the drug game, and I don’t want to know. Callum wouldlove nothing better than for me to join him in his endeavors, but that’s just not who I am, nor will I ever be.

“Ah, Callum,” Dario booms as we approach, his arm extended in welcome. “I was wondering when you were gonna bring your pretty little bird around.” His gaze slides to me as he embraces Callum, dark eyes gleaming like onyx in the low light.

I force a smile onto my lips, stuffing down my discomfort. I’ve been around men in power my entire life. I know how to handle the rotten ones.

“Not a bird, honey, a ballerina,” Gigi says, winking at me. “So good to see you, Maeve. You look lovely.”

“Thank you, Gigi,” I say with a smile. “You, too.”

Dario steps closer, a ghost of a smile playing around the edges of his lips. “Maeve, Cal tells me you’ve put the ballet aside for now.”

Startled, I shake my head. “No, not exactly. I was just holding off while my ankle healed up. But I’ve been taking classes?—”

“Dancers have expiration dates,” he says over me. “Injuries start to add up, so it’s probably for the best.”

Unsure of what to say, I glance at Callum, who’s sidled up to the bar and is talking to the bartender.

“I don’t know about that,” I say. “Ballet will always be a part of my life.”

“That’s nice—” Gigi begins.

“You’ve got a good man in Callum. I hope you appreciate that,” Dario says, clapping his nephew’s back. “It’s good you’re here. We got a lot of big plans, big things coming up, and he needs you at his side.”

Callum tosses back a shot and rejoins the conversation, his arm snaking around my waist. I cast a confused look his way, wondering what the hell his uncle is rambling about. What does he want me to do, play hostess and serve snacks during Callum’s drug deals?

“Maeve’s my ride or die, you know that,” he says, giving me a squeeze. “She’s down for whatever.”

Dario gives a nod of approval, raising his glass. “That’s what I like to hear. You’ll love Las Vegas, sweetheart.”

I go cold, nerves prickling over my skin. “Las Vegas?”

“Uncle Dario’s opening a new club on the Strip, and he wants me to run it,” Callum says, mouth pressed to my ear.

“But—”

“Nothing’s set in stone. We’ll talk about it later.” His grip on my waist tightens before he lets go of me altogether, angling toward Dario.

Gigi makes small talk with me for the next few minutes while the men talk, but my mind is elsewhere.Las Vegas?Callum and Dario can expand their little kingdom into Mars for all I care. I’ll be home, in Boston, where I belong.

We chat with them a little longer before Dario dismisses us. I stumble a little as Callum pulls me through the crowd, eager to get up to the VIP room. He’s always loved it up there, loves the exclusivity and the perks. I’d rather be on the dance floor, but I have all night for that. I’m just glad we’re doing something fun for Halloween. It’s always been one of my favorite holidays.

I feel a pang in my chest as I realize that this is the first time I didn’t go trick-or-treating with my nephew, Liam. I don’t even know how he dressed up this year. I hate being so far away, surrounded by strangers.

But at least Jaime’s here. I glance back as we ascend the stairs, catching his eye for a quick second. He’s sandwiched between Mac and Griff, who’ve been arguing about the latest Warriors game since we left the house. At the top of the stairs, sugar-skull-painted staff unclasp the velvet rope and let us into the VIP room where there’s another photo booth, hors d’oeuvres, and themed cocktails. Besides the bottle girls, there’s just a smattering of people up here, including a politician I’ve seen on TV and two guys I’m pretty sure are football players.

I adjust my angel’s wings as we sit on a long, curved couch built around a glass table.

“You’re always the baddest in the room,” Callum says playfully, his eyes soft as they take me in. He leans over, grasping my chin so he can kiss me. It’s as genuine as it is possessive. He loves me, I know, but he loves to show me off, too.

It’s so complicated with him. Besides family, no one knows Callum and me the way we know each other. But sometimes I wonder if you everreallyknow a person. I was with him the night his parents split. His mother left, and though we knew it was his shitty, abusive father she was leaving, Callum always felt like she’d abandoned him, too. For years we held one another up, and we did it with love. I think it’s one of the main reasons I’ve stuck around so long. But Callum doesn’t need me the wayhe thinks he does, the way he once did. He’s just addicted to the memory of what we were.

I’ll give him until Christmas. He’ll have to let me go home then.

“What d’you want, baby?”Callum asks, squeezing my thigh.

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