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I breathe a little easier. “Thanks, Ksenyia.”
“So, um… can I ask you kind of a strange question?”
“Sure.”
“Who’s that guy who’s been coming around? You know, the big one with the scar?” There’s an excited glint in her eye, like it’s Christmas morning and she’s preparing to rip into her pile of presents. “Is he yourboyfriend?”
A shy little giggle bubbles past my lips. “I don’t know that I’d label him my boyfriend per se…”
“But you’re seeing each other?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess so.”
“I’msojealous.” She pouts her lips. “I wish I had time for a boyfriend, but I’m stuck here most of the time. How did you two even meet?”
“I was having some car trouble,” I tell her honestly as I begin sifting through my bag for a new pair of pointe shoes. I’ve been using the pair on my feet all morning, and now they’re close to dead—no longer capable of supporting my weight properly. Most ballerinas go through three or four pairs a day. It’s a good thing the Bolshoi provides us new pairs for free; otherwise it’d be one massive bill.
I stop rifling through my bag, however, when my hand brushes up against a piece of paper. It’s small, torn out by hand with wonky edges. Something has been written on the front in sloppy handwriting. Carefully, I pick it up between my thumb and forefinger, staring at the words with growing horror.
Retire, bitch.
you better watch your back.
My mouth suddenly goes dry. My heart plummets to the pit of my stomach. Who could have done this? Gossip is one thing, but leaving threatening notes in my gym bag is something else entirely. I look around at my fellow dancers. It could have been any one of them since I left my bag unattended. Someone here is out to get me, and I have a sneaking suspicion they might be the same person who sabotaged Vanya.
Now they have a new target in mind: me.
Chapter 13
Leo
Another day, another dollar.
I once again find Erik in my office, bumbling like a moron about to wet himself on the carpet. My brother, Samuil, stands in front of the door, blocking any potential for a hasty exit.
“Do you have the money?” I ask tersely.
“Sort of…” he stutters pathetically.
I lean back in my office chair, swallowing my irritation. I could be watching Nikita dance right now, but instead, I have to deal with this slimy little idiot. “What do you meansort of?”
Eric reaches into his shoulder bag and produces several pieces of fine jewelry. He sets them on the desk before me, as if for inspection. I’ll be the first to admit I don’t understand the first thing about gems or precious metals. For all I know, these could be fake, made of cheap plastic. Worthless.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”
“I just thought… Look, I don’t have the cash on hand, but these pieces are worth plenty. This one here? Real diamonds. A whole chain of them.”
“Erik, I was more than kind when I accepted your cash payment for ten percent of what you owe two Fridays ago, even though I instructed you to deliver the full payment. And now, you still don’t have the rest of my money. Instead, you’re bringing me jewels? Make it make sense.”
“Like I said, real diamonds… I’ll get more money soon enough and pay it all off. Please, accept this as a gesture of good will.”
“You expect me to hock these?”
“I tried finding a pawn shop that would give me the money for it, but they kept underselling me. I figured out of everyone, you might have the proper connections to give you a fair price.”
I pick up one of the jewelry pieces and inspect it carefully under the light. A bracelet. A thin silver circlet with fine engravings etched into the metal. Credit where credit is due, itispretty. Small diamonds lay inset, creating a sort of polka dot pattern. It could be worth several hundred thousand rubles, but that’s just an estimate. I’m going to have to rely on a consultant to determine its full value.
But the longer I stare at the bracelet, the more I can picture it around Nikita’s slim wrist. She doesn’t wear a great deal of jewelry from what I’ve seen, but this might look nice on her. A perfect fit, as a matter of fact.
