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“We all know how much our reputations mean to us,” I explain. “Word travels fast in our circles. All I'd have to do is have Leo upload this audio to an email and CC every single person at the Bolshoi. Everyone from the janitors to the patrons will know what you've done and how you tried to pin the blame on me.”
For the first time since we arrived, Kseniya finally seems to understand the gravity of the situation. Her face pales and her eyes widen. Her bottom lip trembles, but her crocodile tears have all but dried up. We have her right where we want her, and the director is just an added bonus.
“You're going toblackmailme?” she shrieks. “You're bluffing. There's no way someone like you could—”
“I told you. You don't know me. I can and Iwill.”
The director fumbles, his hands visibly shaking as he wipes his slimy palms on the front of his shirt. “What do you want, then? To make this go away.”
“First of all, I want my name cleared,” I tell them.
“How do you expect to do that?” the director asks.
“The police are investigating,” I remind them. “They’ll get this information anonymously.”
“You can’t do that!” Kseniya cries.
“I can and I will,” I repeat. “I want my role back. I will dance the Sugar Plum Fairy on opening night.”
Kseniya grinds her teeth so hard I can hear them squeak from across the room. “I fucking hate you,” she grumbles. “You weren't supposed to—”
“What?” I challenge. “Fight back?”
I stare down my nose at her, savoring the sweet feeling of well-earned revenge. I have nothing more to say to this woman. Never once did I think she was capable of such atrocious behavior. I really did think of her as a friend, one of the very few I had.
Leo turns to me and places his hand on the small of my back, gently guiding me toward the door. “You two have a wonderful rest of your night,” he says calmly, coolly. In that moment, Iseehim.
God, I think I’m in love with him.
We leave the building hand in hand, returning to his car parked by the curb. He hands me the phone, the audio file staring me straight in the face.
I've been staring at the screen so long I don't realize Leo's been watching me the entire time. The tense silence in the air is thick enough to slice with a knife.
“How do you feel?” he asks me.
I don't know how to put it into words. Relieved? Angry? “Tired,” is what I end up saying. I turn in my chair slightly to look at him. “Will you be there? To watch me on opening night? I just want one chance to show the world what I can do, and then I think I'm done.”
He holds my gaze, serious and intense. “Are you sure, Nikita?”
I nod. “I want one final hurrah. To go out on my own terms. One final, perfect performance before I retire my pointe shoes.”
“But what will you do after?”
“I'm sure I'll figure it out.” Truth is, I already have a clue or two, especially with this life growing inside of me… I reach across the center console and take his hand. I don't think I'll ever stop marveling at how perfectly our fingers weave together, different threads meant to make the same beautiful tapestry. “As long as I'm with you, I'm sure I’ll land on my feet.”
“I know you will,” he says, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “My sister-in-law already got us tickets to see opening night, well before I met you. It must have been fate.”
“So you'll be there?”
“I'll be cheering so loud for you, there will be no question who’s causing a ruckus.”
Just as I break out into a massive smile, Leo's phone rings and breaks through our perfect little moment of victory. His lips press into a thin line, obviously irritated by the disruption, but I shake my head.
“It's okay. Answer it.”
He offers me a sweet smile, a little secret just for me that I can tuck away and treasure forever. “Talk to me,” he answers. I'm not too sure who he's speaking to, but judging by his serious expression, I’d bet a pretty penny this has to do with the Bratva. I won't pry, though. I'm sure it'll take some practice, but if we can keep our work lives in our personal lives separate, I think our futures will be nothing but smooth sailing.
“Got it,” he says. “I'm on my way.” When he hangs up, he gives me an apologetic look. “I've got to take care of something. Work.”
