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Leo enters quickly and I'm hot on his heels, closing the door behind us so we can have some privacy. I can already tell this conversation is about to get heated, and for very good reason.
I'm almost appalled at what I see. Before us, Kseniya and the director are frozen mid-embrace. She was sitting across his lap, her lipstick marks staining his cheeks, his lips, his throat, and even a corner of his shirt’s collar. Kseniya is in a similarly compromising position, her top missing and her bra half unclasped. Apparently, we've caught them in the middle of their affair.
“What the hell is going on?” she shrieks. “Nikita? What are you doing here?”
“Stop talking,” Leo says. I’ve never heard him so menacing. His voice is deep and rich, the sound vibrating through the air, the walls, even through my rib cage. He's a panther on the prowl, his eyes set on a pair of squawking geese. “We know it was you.”
“What are you talking about?” the director demands. His eyes widen when he realizes who he's talking to. “Wait a second… Mr. Nicolaevich?”
“The two of you have been working together to sabotage the other dancers,” Leo says. “First Vanya, and then, when the part didn't immediately fall to you, you decided to go after Nikita.”
The director looks like he's about to piss his pants. His face is turning an unhealthy shade of green, and he can't stop quivering like a little mouse caught in a corner. Kseniya’s reaction intrigues me the most. I have known her for many years, always so sweet and kind. It's one of the reasons I never suspected her until it was too late. She has worn her mask of practiced politeness for so long and so well that the look of pure, unadulterated hatred in her eyes takes me by complete surprise.
Her whole face darkens. There is so much heat behind her gaze I swear she might burn a hole straight through my head. Her lip curls up into a sneer, baring her teeth like a rabid dog preparing to lash out.
“You've got it all wrong,” she says, sickly sweet, but I can tell she’s furious by the way she grinds her teeth and clenches her fists.
“We found the security footage,” I lie smoothly. My heart beats rapidly in my chest. This is all a part of the game plan, our bluff. Leo has assured me over and over again that this is going to work, as long as I remember to keep cool. “We've got video of you sneaking into the building to sabotage our shoes. Planting that toolbox in my locker.”
Kseniya, no longer the sweet little puppy I always believed her to be, turns her attention to the director. It's obvious to me that he isn't the one calling the shots, but her. “You told me you deleted those tapes. You fucking idiot!”
“I thought I did!”
“So you're confessing?” Leo asks.
Slowly, Kseniya rises from the couch. I think she's trying to be threatening, but I know Leo would never let her do anything to harm me or himself. She's too small to put up a fight, but maybe she's stupid enough to try.
“Do you have any idea what it's like?” she whines. “All I've ever wanted was to be a soloist. Years upon years upon years of hard work—and for what? To be a part of the ballet corps yet again? To play some no name bit role everyone will forget about the moment I step off stage? It’s my turn to shine, dammit! I'm tired of waiting.”
“That's part of the job,” I argue. “We all have to work our way up the ladder. I was right there with you. I know exactly how you feel.”
“No, you don't.” I can't tell if the tears in her eyes are of sadness or anger. Either way, they're not going to work on me. “My whole life, I have dedicated myself to my craft. You have no idea how lucky you are, Nikita.”
“Lucky?” I scoff.
“Your mother is the ballet master. She pays so much attention to you, helps you improve. I bet when the two of you go home, she helps you practice even after hours. That's why you're such a brilliant dancer. How am I supposed to compete with that? I'm nowhere near as good, and there's no way I can be. Not when you have a leg up.
“That's why all of the other dancers are so jealous of you. You have a master helping you every step of the way. It isn't fair. I could have been a principal soloist had you not been Inessa’s favorite.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. “You think I'm her favorite? You couldn't be more wrong. My mother hates me. Have you not heard the way she breaks me down every single practice? Don’t for a fucking second think this is about nepotism, because believe me, Inessa would love nothing more than to bury me beneath her heel. Don’t assume to know me.”
“Bullshit—”
“How could you do it? How could you put fuckingrazorsin my shoes? How could you hurt Vanya?”
“Oh, shut up!” she snaps at me. “Nobody's buying your goody two shoes act. You wanted to be a soloist for years. I did what I had to do. I snuck in and sabotaged her shoes while this incompetent fool made sure to scrub the security footage.” She glares at him. “At least, he was supposed to.”
“How long have you two been together?” I ask, not bothering to hide my disgust.
“A year,” the director says, the slightest hint of pride in his tone. “We're in love—”
Kseniya gags. “No, we're not, you old fart. Holy crap, men really will believe anything, huh?”
“I was willing to work for it,” I grumble. “Not sleep my way to the top.” Resisting the urge to cuss her up and down, I turned to Leo. “Did you get all that?”
He pulls his phone from of his pocket, revealing that it's been recording our conversation the entire time. “We have her confession. All we have to do now is go to the police, or worse.”
Kseniya frowns. “What do you mean,or worse?”
