Page 42 of Dance of Deception

“Exactly,” Milena teases. “Highlysuspicious.”

Naomi rolls her eyes, smiling. “You and your Bratva paranoia.”

Milena winks. “Survival instinct,solnishka.”

I laugh, stepping into their circle, letting their banter settle over me like a blanket.

Milena is one of my closest friends. Confident, beautiful, with an effortless cool that makes people gravitate toward her.

But still—she’s a Kalishnik. Her father, Marko, is the head of the Kalishnik Bratva. Milena doesn’t talk about it much, but she doesn’t have to.

I know what it means.

Milena grew up in the same world that I did. But she was raised as a princess within it.

I was a prisoner of it.

Naomi, meanwhile, is the opposite of both of us. A "good girl", born into a privileged if suffocating life. Her father, Leonard Kim, is a congressman, her mother a retired ballerina turned socialite.

And yet, I know it would be naive to say that unlike Milena and me, she has the option to run away from it all.

…Because I’m not actually sure shedoes.

Naomi takes a slow sip of her coffee, sighing as she stares at the theater doors. “I swear, if Madame Kuzmina makes me run the fouettés today, I’m going to fake an injury and take up pottery.”

Milena smirks. “You’re playing Odile. Fouettés arekind ofa key part of the job description.”

Naomi groans. “Yeah, well, Odile needs a union rep. This is starting to feel like workplace abuse.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “I mean, if you want to switch, I’ll happily take the role off your hands?—”

“Over my dead body,” Naomi mutters.

Milena grins, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder. “Hey, I'm a cygnet. In the middle! Thosepas de chats, I keep worrying I'm going to smack my neighbor's knee. Why couldn't I at least be on the end?” She puts the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically.

Naomi stretches, groaning. “I think Kuzmina is going to beextrahard on me this week.”

“Why?” I ask.

“She thinks my Odile isn'tmeanenough,” Naomi huffs. “She wants me to ‘summon my darkness'.”

“Uh,hello?” Milena points at herself, grinning. “Bratva princess here. You’re welcome to my TED Talk on inner darkness any time, lady.”

Naomi snorts. “I’ve seen you three margaritas deep, rocking Britney Spears at karaoke. I have a hard time seeing you asdarkafter that.”

“Fine,” Milena waves her off. “Then ask Lyra. She’s got darkness to spare.”

That hits a little too close to home.

I force a tight smile as we all laugh, but something inside me itches, coils, burns.

“C’mon, let's get in there before Kuzmina sends her flying monkeys.”

We’re heading for the door when I get a tap on the shoulder. I turn to see Brooklyn looking at me, tightness in her expression.

“See you in there,” I say to Naomi and Milena before I let Brooklyn pull me aside.

“I’ve been worried about you,” she says, biting her lip.

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