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“There’s no need to thank me. I just…”
“What?”
Again, I don't know what to say. I want to tell her there are very few people in this world who I care enough for to make exceptions. And the short time I’ve known her, she’s become one of those people. I know it’s crazy. Probably insane. But the way I feel about her is so undeniably strong it makes me want to break every single one of my rules.
A man like me can’t afford to care. But Iwantto care about Nikita. It comes easy to me, like breathing.
“What else happened?” I ask, because I know her well enough to know there’s more. “And don’t try to deny it. What’s with the bag?”
“Oh, that… Things with my parents got really heated. My mother said some things she won’t ever be able to take back. She might have never said it straight to my face if I hadn’t tried to defend my father, but she…” Her voice tightens to the point of breaking.
She wipes at her eyes before her tears can streak down her cheeks. “She said she wished I’d never been born. That she had a whole life before she had me. And to make matters even worse, I’ve been replaced at the ballet. Apparently, they found a toolbox full of nails and glass and razors in my locker. I swear I’ve never seen that stuff in my life. And it’s so strange because I always make sure to lock up when I leave. The point is that even the director thinks I’m the saboteur. Someoneframedme. I lost my job, my role, the roof over my head, and my parents all in the span of twenty-four hours and I think I’m going insane.” She sighs, controlling her tears.
“I don’t know what to do anymore, Leo. I don’t understand why this is happening to me. I feel like I’m everyone’s punching bag and all I want to do is…” Nikita clenches her fists, sets her jaw. “I want to get to the bottom of this. I’m done being the butt of everyone’s joke. I’m tired of people stepping all over me. They mistake my kindness for weakness and try to take advantage of that fact. But I’m done. I want to be the one on top. I want to be the one punching down. I want—”
She sobs into her palms, her red-hot fury contagious. That was a lot of information to take in, but now that I’ve had a chance to process everything, I share in her rage. Things have reached the boiling point, and Nikita has been scalded by no fault of her own. I’m not sure what I need to do, only that I have to be the one to protect her. Justice must be served, though that may look a little different from where I’m standing. But first…
“You need a place to stay?” I ask her.
“I was thinking about going to a hotel or something. Just until I can figure something out.”
“Stay with me.” The offer comes without thought, without hesitation.
She nibbles on her bottom lip. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I won’t try anything. You need a place to crash, and I have plenty of space. What do you say? You can have the entire west wing of the penthouse.”
Her eyes widen. “You’re serious?”
“When it comes to you, I always am.”
She pauses for only a moment. I think she understands as well as I do that she doesn’t have very many places to turn. I mean what I said, though; I’m not going to try anything. My only concern is making sure she feels absolutely comfortable, even if I have to put my feelings for her momentarily to the side.
“Come stay with me,” I say, “and together, we’ll get to the bottom of your sabotage problem.”
“How? I don’t even know where to start.”
“It’s time to play dirty, Nikita. Whoever’s doing this to you clearly doesn’t have any qualms about stooping low. I need to know you’re willing to let me do the same.”
Nikita studies me carefully, her brilliant blue eyes piercing through the gloom. I know she’s a good person, and my tricks might seem distasteful if I ever went into detail about them. The fire in her eyes tells me she’s already reached her limit. She has nothing left to lose now.
I’m not at all surprised when she says, “I want to help, too.”
Chapter 25
Nikita
My nausea still hasn’t subsided, but the prenatal vitamins have been helping just a little bit. I take them when nobody’s watching and pray to all the gods and the stars that I can keep this up for a while longer. At least until we figure out what is going on. Until things find some sense and my life doesn’t feel so scrambled anymore.
I’m developing quite the appetite, though. It’s good for the baby, but it may hinder my practice efforts. Then again, what do I need practice for since I just got wrongfully accused of assault and suspended from the frickin’ Bolshoi, huh? Dad has tried to call me several times, and he’s also sent me a myriad of texts asking if I’m okay.
My mother hasn’t sent me a thing.
When we get back to his place, Leo is nothing short of a gentleman. He’s once again reverted back to the soft version of himself, the one I so adore. He opens the car door for me, offers me his hand, and even carries my things up without so much as asking. Leo shows me to one of the many rooms in the west side of the penthouse. It boggles my mind that he has so much space, but on a sadder note, has so little to actually fill it.
I choose the guest bedroom in the corner because of its wrap around windows that offer a gorgeous view of Moscow at night. The city lights twinkle far brighter than the stars above, the red glow of brake lights a ribbon of crimson weaving in and out of the streets.
Emotionally, I’m exhausted. It’s frankly a miracle that I have the energy to stand on my own. Physically, though, I’m restless. “When do we start?” I ask. “Do you have contacts with the police? Or are you going to hire a private investigator?”
