Amaia
Thesoundofamoan pulls me from my sleep, the full moon shining through a gap in the curtains. I move to get out of bed, but the door to my room makes a noise. I slam my hand against the light switch on the wall next to me, rushing to get it on, but not taking my eyes away from the darkness in front of me.
The room is empty. I sigh and lean against the headboard, letting out a deep breath.
Until I see an empty glass on the desk next to a ball of pink fabric.I hope that's not what I think it is.Sliding out of my bed, I hesitate to move toward it. My heart is beating fast. I call out, “Who’s in here?”
There’s no response. I sneak across the room on my toes to stay as quiet as possible.
“I have a gun. You should leave now.” I don’t actually have one, but hopefully whoever it is doesn’t want to be shot.
I lift the glass and sniff it. Scotch. It’s not my drink of choice—ever. Someone else was here, I don’t know who it could be. Picking up the pink andwetfabric, I drop it again. I know exactly what that is.
I don't sleep for the rest of the night, too afraid the intruder will come back.
My face looks awful. I cover it up as much as possible with makeup, but I can still see the dark bags under my eyes. I tie my hair up and rush to the studio. It’s our last rehearsal before I get to go home and have a break from being on stage for another few weeks. Usually, I look forward to the breaks, but knowing that I could lose my chance as Prima, I need to be here. Show them how committed I am.
“You’re late!” Claudia calls as I rush to the changing rooms, and I stiffen. But then I paste on a fake smile and make eye contact with her.
“My alarm didn’t go off this morning. I’m sorry.” The lie slips easily from my tongue.
I’m always awake early, but considering I never actually slept, there is no excuse for me to be late. Except needing to sneak out of my room and peek around corners, skipping the elevator just so I don’t bump into this man.
She shakes her head. “You’re better than this. Go and stretch.”
Damien gives me a sympathetic look and mimeswhat’s wrong?
But I merely shake my head and look back at Claudia, who squints at me, waiting for an answer. “Yes, ma’am,” I say.
Thankfully, Claudia doesn’t correct me too much. I try to relax my body, but last night still haunts me. What would he have done if I’d woken up while he was still there? Did he touch me?
I shake my head to snap out of it. Surely, I would have known if he had.
Concentrate, deep breaths. Regain control.
Chapter five
Viktor
Iwatchherfromafar this time as she dances across the stage, overshadowing everyone else up there. The way she is lost in the moment. I’ve never seen a woman like this. In control.
I want to take that away from her. Bring her back to my house and in my spare room with a modified bed reserved forspecialguests.
I’ve already noticed she had checked out of the hotel this morning. She doesn’t live too far away, so I'm surprised she even bothered to get a hotel. I’m assuming it’s to keep all the dancers together, since I noticed that they had all booked rooms. Fuck knows I don’t know anything about ballet.
Konstantin did a basic background check on her and she lives alone. Perfect. It’s all I really wanted to know. I already went there earlier today to check the layout. It’s just an average-sized house with one bedroom. The studio she goes to is not far from hers. The only security she has is a chain lock from the inside. Good for me, but I will have to rectify that in the future so no one else can get in there. One thing I did notice was that some files of her background check had been hidden. She’s a mystery I want to unravel and I can’t wait to find out.
I bring my thoughts back to the show, ignoring the vibration of my phone in my pocket. Konstantin can keep an eye on Dmitri a little longer. Give us the extra time to break him down.
Amaia’s face is smooth and flawless under the lights as she moves. I wonder how long she’s trained for to become this perfect.
Even though she isn’t center stage. To me, she is the star of the show. The sight of another man's hands on her body as he lifts her makes my jaw clench, his hands too close between her thighs. I'm not usually a jealous man but want her; she will be my little doll. And I can’t wait to play with her.
After the show, all the dancers bow, and the audience applauds them. That bastard has his hands all over her again, and she looks uncomfortable as he wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her to his side, but she doesn’t say anything. He continues to pull her closer just as the curtains close.
My fists clench until my knuckles turn white. Abruptly, I stand, pushing my way through the crowd. Most of them move, already knowing who I am. Now it’s her turn to find out.
Getting backstage is easy. My little doll turns to me with a smile, but it instantly drops and her eyes narrow. All I can think of is how she looked sprawled out on the bed, sleeping. I smirk, and she turns away. She’ll get used to me soon. Right now, I’ll just watch as she moves toward the changing rooms.