Page 28 of The Dancer and the Grumpy Billionaire

“I do.”

“Dude, Sasha Gusev is not some second-rate criminal. He’s pure villain. He’s super connected and his network has a wide reach. Apparently, he’s behind two assassinations of U.S. officialson U.S. soil. That’s ballsy as all get out.”

“I am aware,” I say. “And I know there’s surveillance on the girl.”

“There have been credible threats on her life from Gusev’s enemies,” he says. “From what I could piece together, she has no knowledge of the operation. She seems to just do her own thing, but she’s got a lot of people looking at her. She’s in a fishbowl.”

No kidding, I think to myself.

“I just thought you should know what you were getting yourself into,” he says. “Sounds like maybe you already did.”

“Only after we last spoke.”

“I know I said some gushy stuff about love being worth fighting for,” Sean says, “but I am rescinding it, man. I think this one might put you in the middle of something you definitely don’t want to be in the middle of.”

“Thanks, I get it,” I say. “I appreciate the heads up.”

We hang up and I just sit at my desk for a long time, thinking. The Gigi I know is gentle and lonely. She has been caged away, but for her prolific dance career. She is watched constantly, controlled fully – and not by this life she leads as the daughter of a criminal. No, even in dance, her body is scrutinized, picked apart for flaws. She cannot eat what she wants, cannot move the way she wants. She has no freedom and makes no decisions for herself.

In some ways, I understand her desire to push back in whatever ways she can. To eat a hamburger or run off with a lover – those are small rebellions. They are rebellions that have consequences, as well. I have not seen Gigi for a week, not since our night together. I returned her to a pharmacy two blocks from the Shadowhurst building that night because she did not want anyone to see her getting out of my car.

She bought Plan B, she told me later, and walked the remaining blocks, only to be grabbed by the arm by her bodyguard Alexei, dragged up to the apartment, and smackedacross the face by her nanny, Vera. They found the contraceptive in her bag and called her a whore.

It breaks my heart to know what she faces in her own home. Thankfully, the show is finishing its run tonight, so she is very busy at work. After the show, though…what then? More of the same for her?

I ache for her, for the life she lives at the hands of these people. I also know that something very drastic will have to occur for us to ever be able to truly explore our feelings to see if this is real or just a short-term infatuation.

After work, I take a run, still solely focused on this situation with Gigi. I am an organized man, a careful man. I have just started to build a promising career, one of my own design and interest. I love my work and I am good at it, something I have shared with Gigi several times. To get involved – to stay involved – with the daughter of Sasha Gusev is to dance with the devil. It is inviting trouble on a level I cannot begin to contemplate without feeling a great deal of anxiety.

The investigation into Gigi’s father spans decades. The man is accused of being behind dozens of creatively terrifying murders. In my heart of hearts, I know I should try to get Gigi out of this situation. I have to help her find some level of freedom.

I have wealth. Too much wealth to contemplate at times. I am a reluctant billionaire, a man without the lifestyle to warrant such riches. I could use this money to get her a new identity, to house her somewhere far away from Gusev’s reach. She could make a new life in a new place.

But what if she doesn’t want that? She does love dance and she has worked hard to get to where she is now – the youngest principal dancer ever at the Washington Ballet. Perhaps she wants to expand her career, go dance other places. From whatshe has told me, she just wants to explore life like a regular person would.

I need to see her, need to talk to her. Now that I understand the danger she is in, we need to talk about what to do.

I run back to the apartment and grab my phone to text her.

Can you get away tonight?

CHAPTER 13

Galina

It is almost call time when Vasily’s text comes through, asking me if I can get away tonight.

Since I came back late after my night out with him a week ago, Alexei, Roman, and Vera have been vigilant in watching me at all times. However, they have no way of watching closely when I am in the post-event crowd, and I think I can slip out right after the show, as the crowd is still milling about, waiting for valet and wandering the immediate area.

I respond that Vasily should meet me at an obscure Italian restaurant a few blocks away. A set designer recommended it to me once, and Vera would never think to look there as I never, ever eat pasta.

The anticipation of seeing him again is a living thing inside of me as the show begins, and it fuels me all the way through. I feel each and every step, every movement. I think about Vasily’s body against mine, about the way he made me feel, and I feel like I could fly across the stage. As Marcus lifts me in that final scene, I am jubilant and in love and I know that I have given the best performance of my life.

And yet, amid the high praise I receive backstage immediately after, I just want to leave. I want to go, run through the hallways and out with the crowd. I want to get to Vasily as quickly as I can.

So I do. I grab my bag and I run. I run out into the hallways, smiling as people congratulate me, until I get into the main lobby of the theater, thrilled to see so many people making their way outside. I pull on a sweatshirt and put the hood up, slipping into the crowd and letting the current drive me out onto the street. I walk with a large group for a block, then finally shift away, running the remaining block to the restaurant.

Vasily waits in a barely lit booth at the back of the restaurant. He smiles at me as I sweep in, and my smile is wider still as I take in his tall, broad-shouldered frame.

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