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Fuming at his brazen comment, I bite my tongue.
“Here we are!” Mom blurts. Handing the stack to Arsen, she links her fingers at her waist like she’s waiting for a compliment. I hate this whole situation. But above all, I hate the amount of hope Mom’s gaze betrays when she looks at Arsen. I want to shake her, to yell at her, and to ask if this place means nothing to her.
If Dad’s memories mean nothing to her. But I can’t. Because for the first time in a long time, I do see something in her eyes—an emotion that she might’ve forgotten over the years.
Hope.
Muttering to himself, Arsen flips through the papers. He scans them one by one, scrutinizing them closely. “Not surprising,” he sighs.
“What?” I ask.
“This place is burning money like a furnace. No wonder you need me.”
“We don’t need you?—”
“It doesn’t matter,” he cuts me off. “I don’t need it to be successful as a dance studio. The location is what I’m buying.”
“What are you saying?” I ask warily, heart hanging in my throat, terrified of what his answer is going to be.
Handing the papers to my mother, Arsen rakes his eyes over me from head to toe. “I’m turning it into a club.”
And just like that, my heart plummets into my heels. “You can’t be serious!”
“I very much am.”
“But you said it was too small! A club, here? Impossible.”
“I’ll tear it all down.” He shrugs. “And once everything is gone, I’ll rebuild.”
Tear it all down. My chest twinges painfully. There’s not enough room in my ribs for how fast my lungs are expanding. My knees suddenly feel rubbery, and my hand twitches to grab something to steady myself, lest I risk collapsing to the floor at how easy and unconcerned he sounds about destroying my childhood.
“I won’t sell it.” The words slip out of my lips before I can stop myself.
His eyes darken at my insolence, and my mother’s mouth drops open.
“Galina!” she exclaims. But I’m beyond the point of trying to be polite to this asshole. Someone has to care about this place!
“I won’t let him, or anyone, ruin what we built! What you and Dad worked so hard for!” Shaking my head violently loosens my bun. I square off with Arsen. He’s far bigger than me, but I refuse to let his size intimidate me. “We won’t sell to you.”
He’s judging me with fresh curiosity. I can’t help but imagine him as a shark circling me in the open ocean. Mom’s hand touches my elbow lightly.
“We will be selling,” she says flatly, doing her best to keep her voice even.
“Mom! No!”
“Arsen … Mr. Isakov. If your offer is serious, the contract can be signed right now.”
Deflating at her unwavering statement, I inch backward, away from both of them.
Arsen’s face beams with delight as a grin curls on the handsome face that I’ve come to detest in such a short time. “It’s regrettable that your daughter has such misgivings about my plans.”
“Because you’re destroying my childhood!” I shout.
My mother cringes. But Arsen just lets his grin transform into a sneer. “I’m turning something broken into something new. Rebirthed, repurposed, whatever you want to call it.”
I curl my lip in disgust. “I call it greed.”
“Do you think I’m taking advantage of the two of you?” he asks, lifting a hand to stroke over his dark hair.
