Page 116 of Dance of Deception

Vaughn shrugs. “Just say the word, baby girl. I’ll put together a foolproof dating strategy for you.”

Brooklyn makes a face. “Hard pass. I’ve seen the skanks and fuckbois you bring home.”

“Well,somebody’sgotta keep the city's emotionally unavailable bartenders and aspiring actresses with daddy issues entertained.”

Laughter echoes around the vast space, and for the first time in days, I feel lighter.

The side door to the theater swings open, and Evelina strides in, her bright pink…because of course it is…duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Behind her, looming in the doorway, are two tall, built, figures—her brother, Roman, and Bane Antonov.

Roman's dark hair is slightly tousled as his gray eyes sweep over the room like he’s assessing a battlefield. He’s all muscle, tattoos inked down his forearms, with a presence so intense it feels like the oxygen has been sucked out of the room.

Beside him, Bane is a brooding, silent cloud of darkness—so consuming it’s almost unsettling. Dark brown hair falls slightly over his forehead, his brown eyes indecipherable and his broad frame radiating a dark, pulsing energy. He exudes power—deeper than the obvious kind—that makes it feel dangerous just to look at him.

Brooklyn lets out a slow breath. “Damn”

Vaughn nods, inked arms crossed over his broad chest, eyes locked on Roman. “Fuckin’dibs.”

Brooklyn smirks. “Roman?”

Vaughn gestures lazily between Evelina’s brother and Bane. “I mean,either. But Roman?” he groans. “He looks like he fucks and fights like a god. That’s a winning combo for me.”

Milena rolls her eyes. “Do you need a cold shower?”

“Depends. Will he be there, too?”

Naomi's eyes land on Bane before she shivers violently. “Okay, Evie’s brother is hot, but his friend is terrifying.”

Vaughn shrugs. “Big ‘bury a body in the woods and never speak of it again’ energy.” He strokes his jaw as he grins darkly. “I mean, I’m…into it.”

Evelina says goodbye to her brother and then walks over to us, dropping her bag on the floor and frowning. “What’s up?”

Brooklyn grins. “We were just talking about how fuckable your brother is.”

Evelina makes a horrified face. “Gross.”

Vaughn grins, entirely unrepentant. “What? He looks like he’s used to being in control, and I’d love to see how fast I could mess that up.”

Evelina groans, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head, like she’s trying to physically loosen that mental image. “Dude,my brother. Also, he’s straight.”

Vaughn winks. “Luckily, ‘but I’m straight’ is my favorite kind of foreplay.”

Before Evelina can respond, the sound of heels clicking against the floor announces Madame Kuzmina’s arrival.

And she’s not alone.

Beside her walks a girl I don’t recognize. She’s pretty in a very non-showy way, tall and lean, with dyed silvery-pink hair. A series of delicate black tattoos line her forearms, peeking from beneath the sleeves of her warm-up sweater. She doesn’t smile. Doesn’t speak. Just watches everything with a cool, perceptive gaze.

A hush settles over the room as Madame Kuzmina stops in the center, sweeping her gaze across the company before gesturing toward the girl.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is Dove Marchetti. She’s our newest Second Soloist.”

My brow furrows. Usually new dancers, even prospective soloists, have to do a series of auditions, not just walk in and beannounced.

“Holyshit,” Milena murmurs quietly, leaning into the rest of us.

Evelina whistles under her breath. “I didn’t even know she wasback.”

I frown. “Hi, yes, hello. Not a subscriber to mafia world gossip weekly?”

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