Page 59 of Captivated

“Excuse me, but you can’t be in here,” Gordo said.

Lucian didn’t even grace the director with his attention as his gaze finally landed on Liliana across the studio. He pointed a single finger at her, and then hooked it as if to silently demand she, move.

Liliana didn’t know what was up, but a spike of dread settled hard and fast in her gut. Her father never showed up to her dance studio because, in a way, this was where she worked. She was here for that, and not for anything else. He didn’t get in the way of that kind of thing.

“I’ll be just a sec,” Liliana told Gordo.

As she was passing the director by, the man replied, “Tell your guest, he is not welcomed in my studio again! I won’t have these sorts of distractions for my dancers, Liliana!”

“Oh, would you shut up already?” Lucian barked from the doorway. “Jesus Christ, man, everybody can hear you yelling from the goddamn street. They dance for you, but they’re not your property. Treat them like humans, huh?”

“Dad,” Liliana hissed.

She pushed Lucian out of the doorway—although really, she just had to press her hands against his chest to make him move out of the way. It wasn’t like he put up any big fight to move, or anything.

Thank God.

“Don’t do that,” Liliana told her father.

“He sounds like a jackass.”

Liliana almost rolled her eyes, but settled on nodding instead. “Yeah, he kind of is.”

Behind her, she heard Gordo call out, “All right, take fifteen, but then get back to it. And Trent, I swear if I see you outside smoking again, I will cut your fucking lungs out.”

Lucian scoffed. “Right. That man is definitely capable of cutting something out of someone else. I’m sure.”

“Did you need something—or did something happen?”

Liliana figured the quicker she got her father onto the topic of why he showed up at the studio, the quicker she could get back to work, and be done for the weekend. It was Sunday, and she was looking forward to the next week for more reasons than she cared to explain.

A charity dance, for one.

And Joe, for two.

Her phone had been silent for the day, but he promised he would do something on Monday. Well, she already had something in mind, but he wasn’t exactly here yet to make the offer, so …

Lucian scowled at the dancers coming out of the studio. “Is there somewhere we could chat for a little bit—privately?”

Liliana gave her father a look. “Bathrooms, and locker rooms. A storage closet. Gordo’s office—don’t even ask, no one is allowed inside. And another studio. Take your pick.”

“Studio.”

Fine by her.

Liliana led the way, and her father followed close behind silently. Soon, they were in the studio at the end of the hall, but like with the other one, there was no door to close to give them privacy. It was just an illusion.

“Now, will you answer me?” Liliana asked. “Did something happen, or—”

“Why didn’t you tell me that Rich Earl approached you a while back during opening night of The Sleeping Beauty?”

Liliana blinked.

Her throat tightened.

Her chest ached.

She felt the shake in her fingers, and the tremor that worked its way up her spine at just hearing the man’s name spoken out loud. It made her sick to her stomach, and her head feel a little too light. A fear landed dangerously hard in her stomach—like a balling, tight knot there that she couldn’t get out no matter how hard she tried.