Page 37 of Devil of Vegas

“You’re being too protective of me now,” I protest. “I feel caged in here. You can send men with me to guard the doors and keep me safe. You can have Marco follow me everywhere and watch over me when I go outside the house, but Ineedto be able to leave.”

“No.” The finality in his voice leaves no room for discussion. “I will give you anything you need, Isla, but you will stay here. I will give you everything but freedom.”

“Then you can’t give me everything Ineed,” I say as I stand up from the table and go back to what I consider my room, even though every night we sleep in Vincent’s bedroom.

For the rest of the day, I stay in my room. I don’t want to see or talk to Vincent because I don’t even know how I’m feeling right now. Ilongfor him and have to fight the urge to go to his room and crawl into bed beside him. But I also long for my freedom. Iwant both things—I want to be with Vincent, but I also want to spread my wings and dance when I feel like it, wherever I feel like it.

In the middle of the night, as I lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, I feel so boxed-in and claustrophobic, even inside this huge house that I can’t breathe. I get out of bed, get changed, and reach for my coat and pointe shoes before heading for the door.

Part of me knows I won’t make it very far. Vincent has the entire house under surveillance, and there are still a few men guarding the perimeter. Considering Vincent’s own admission that he never sleeps, I expect him to come and stop me before I even reach the door. To my surprise,he doesn’t. And when I open the door to step outside, there isn’t a guard there. I can see Marco’s car off in the distance, meaning that he’s here on the propertysomewhere, but he isn’t standing at the front door. Maybe he’s taking a bathroom break, or maybe Vincent has assigned him to a different position on the perimeter. The only thing I know for sure is that the way out of here isclearfor the moment, and that’s entirely unexpected. I know Vincent, and I know he is careful and deliberate about everything. He doesn’t leave a single thing overlooked, nor even the tiniest of gaps in his security. That said, he seems a bit more relaxed about things here at his private home, where he assumes no one can find us. I recognize this as my chance to escape.

I take off running down the street, and it feels exhilarating. I push my feet off the ground and relish in the feeling of the muscles in my legs burning from fatigue. My lungs burn too. Too much time away from my strict schedule of dance training has taken a toll on my body, and it feelswonderfulto remember what using my muscles and my breath actually feels like.

I’m also scared, of course. Running away from Vincent means running away from my protection against others who would wish to hurt me, like that monster, Angelo Barone. And running away from Vincent shouldn’t have been so easy—it’s almost like helet me. I’m not sure what kind of consequence will come from that. But for now, I feel more free than scared, and I relish it.

I make it to the street square a few blocks away and duck into the shadows of a nearby alley to keep hidden for the last few hours before morning. There’s a trash dumpster that I crouch behind, and right on top of it, there’s a bag of clothing that looks like someone chucked. I carefully reached into the bag, avoiding the trash, and pulled out a black hoodie and a pair of sunglasses that seemed to be part of someone’s unwanted wardrobe. It smells clean, looks okay, and will serve as a good way to hide my appearance in public.

In the morning, I step out onto the street with the hoodie pulled up and the sunglasses covering my eyes. No one seems to bat an eye at me as I walk down the sidewalk, which is good. The smell of fresh morning coffee and hot pastries wafts from some bakeries lining the street, and I can feel my stomach grumble. I ignore it because I’m too distracted by the little park at the corner of the square. There’s a shady spot there, on flat ground, and a street musician playing the violin nearby. And without even thinking, I’m suddenly overwhelmed with the desire todance.

“May I?” I ask as I show the violinist my pointe shoes and motion toward the space beside him.

“Please do,” he smiles. “I know a bit of classical—would Mozart work for you?”

I nod and smile broadly as I sit down to put on my shoes.

As he plays a concerto, people on the street stop to listen and toss coins and dollar bills into his open violin case. I stretch, lift my face toward the sun, and let the warmth shine down on my cheeks for a few minutes as I listen to the music, and then let my body guide me into dance.

The ground is rough on my point shoes, but I don’t care. The minor pain of the block against my toes feelsgood. I close my eyes and let the concerto fill me as I visualize being back on stage inside the theatre again. And even after the violin stops playing, I still continue to dance as if someone has wound me up and I can’t stop until my clockwork gear runs out.

When I finally stop dancing and open my eyes, I’m stunned to see that a crowd has gathered around us. Several people clap, and several more are snapping pictures with their phones. Suddenly, I realize that my hoodie and sunglasses disguise won’t be enough to protect me if any photos go viral. I take off my shoes quickly and thank the street musician for that lovely moment of feeling so free dancing in the square.

“Are you sure you don’t want to hang around?” he asks, happy about all the bills and coins that were dropped into his violin case while we were performing together. “We could be a team and eat well for a few nights.”

“I’m sure,” I say apologetically. “I’m sorry, but I really can’t stay here any longer. Thank you, though. It was truly lovely.”

He smiles, and I pull my hoodie down a bit more over my head as I walk away. But I only make it a few steps before I see Marco’s car pull up alongside the sidewalk andVincentstep out.

“Get in,” he says calmly.

CHAPTER 18

VINCENT

When Isla gets into the car, she says nothing. She knows she can’t run from me. But what she doesn’t know is that I have decidednotto force her to stay.

I’ve never felt like this before—never eventhoughtof allowing someone to defy me in order to save their happiness. I’ve neverlovedin the way that I love Isla. But before I give her a choice, I want to show her something that I’ve been working on behind the scenes for a while now.

Marco drives us back to the house in silence. He gives us the occasional glance through the rearview mirror because he knows what I’ve been working on building for Isla during the chaos surrounding us. He’s been my middleman with the contractors and the one funneling questions to Madame Durant behind the scenes to ensure that the choices pertaining to the requirements of a dance space are well-informed. With an endless supply of money and resources, it didn’t take long, and perhaps I should have mentioned what I was doing to Isla before Iallowedher to run away from me for a little while. But I didn’t want to show her anything half-completed. And I wanted to see what she’d do and if she wouldreallyrun from me.

Of course, I only let her think she was flying alone and free on the city streets for a few hours. As soon as she left my home, I saw her on the cameras and alerted Marco, who followed her from afar to keep a safe eye on her. But once cameras started snapping pictures of Isla dancing, it was time to intervene.

Now, I give Isla something that I have given no one else in my life before. I will give her achoice—even if it kills me.

She doesn’t say a single word to me during the ride, and not even when we walk back into the house. I’m sure she thinks she’s going to get punished for running away.

“Thank you, Marco,” I say as I dismiss him.

I catch the look of helplessness that Isla gives him, and Marco’s reassuring, returns a quick smile in return. If it were any of the rest of my men smiling at her like that, I might take issue with it. But I know Marco means nothing other than a kind, protective friendship at most, which is why he’s the only one I trusted with the knowledge about my little secret project.

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