Page 173 of Dance of Devils
I exhale heavily. “Inessa’s father, Dimitri, runs the family now. And part of our agreement toward a lasting peace treaty is thatIstay out of Russia,hestays out of New York, and I use myinfluence with Ivan Yelchin to get Inessa into theImperiya Korona.”
Brooklyn’s still not looking me in the eye, but at least she’s stopped squirming.
“That said,” I growl. “Ivan is his own man, and theImperiya Koronais his company. I can make recommendations, and they may go a long way with him. But that’s all they are:recommendations. Ultimately, Ivan will pick the best dancer he sees to fill the spot.”
“Don’t do that,” she says tightly.
“Do what?”
“Give me a false sense of hope. I don’t want it, and I don’t need it.”
“You’reright,” I hiss tightly. “Youdon’tneed hope or prayers or wishes or any of that bullshit. Because you have something better:sheer fucking talent!”
Brooklyn glares at me and tries to yank her arms back again. But I grip her wrists tighter, looking her right in the eye.
“I know I should have told you about my arrangement with Dimitri,” I growl quietly. “I’m fucking sorry. But the way you lit up with that dream in your eyes…”
She looks away, blinking back tears. “Yeah, a dream you’ve already promised to Inessa,” she says quietly. All the fight leaves her as she sits on my lap, deflated. “Look, I understand that my dreams of dancing in a particular company aren't as important as mafia politics?—”
“That’s not true?—”
“Of course it is, Kir,” she says quietly, turning to look me dead in the eye. “The Zakharova's great, and I know I should be happy where I am, but…” She looks down, exhaling slowly. “TheImperiya Korona…It just seemed like the final goal, you know? The top of the hill. The end game.”
My jaw grinds as I keep her hands pinned with one of mine, reaching for her cheek with the other.
“Your dreams are every fucking bit as important as boring mafia political bullshit, little sinner. More, actually.”
She smiles wryly. “But if you don’t get Inessa that spot…what, you go to war?”
“Again, technically speaking,” I growl quietly as I exhale, “my deal with Dimitri says I have torecommendInessa.” I lock eyes with her. “But it’s Ivan who will have the final say, and there’s nothing to say I can’t prepare you for that audition.”
“How exactly would Dimitri Moskovic view that?”
I shrug. “However he likes.”
“Kir,” she frowns. “Don’t joke around. You’re seriously talking about a full-blown Bratvawar?”
I shake my head as I push a stray lock of blonde back from her face. “If your dream is to get to Moscow,” I growl quietly, “I will move Heaven and burn down Hell to get you there.”
Even if it means losing her.
Because that’s the second shoe waiting to drop that I can’t bear to tell her: if she goes to Moscow,I can’t go with her, per my deal with Dimitri. It’s not just that I stay out of Russia from abusiness perspective. It’s that I literallycannot go there, just as he won’t be able to come back here, to the U.S.
There may be a way for me to uphold my deal with Dimitri byrecommendingInessa to Ivan, but still have Brooklyn get the spot.
But there’s one reality I can’t escape: if I help her achieve her dream, I lose her.
Brooklyn rests her forehead on mine, biting her lip.
“Sorry,” she says quietly.
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Hmm…” She shrugs. “I was kind of a bitch when you walked in.”
“You were in the zone. I interrupted.”
“Still, I was a brat.”
