Controlled: A Dark Mafia Romance

Chapter 5

Bella

Perfection.

That’s what every dancer strived for, the moment when they could finally be at peace, the music no longer haunting. The choreography and the music itself had been my suggestion, the concerto something I’d heard once, and it had remained with me for almost two years. I don’t know how I’d convinced Gregor, but it was the single time he’d smiled at me, calling me a good girl.

The comment had seemed odd but now it was as if for those few seconds he’d recognized my genius.

“Amazing!” someone cheered.

“What a night,” another voice bellowed.

There were howls and catcalls, whistles and high fives all around. I was bursting with happiness, giddier than I’d ever been after performing, but I also had a strange sense of knowing, feelings that had been entirely different than I’d been used to.

As if I’d been dancing for a single person, no one else in the audience. I’d felt his eyes burning into me, his longing to touch and taste me fracturing a part of my mind. I’d been so into the music, nothing could have pulled me from the darkness that I’d needed to find in order to dance the way the music and the choreography had been intended.

Death.

Love.

Need.

All three twisted into a powerful embrace, a yearning like no other.

The audience had felt every nuance, every emotion as required.

And he’d been watching, waiting, a powerful creature lurking in the shadows like a hungry predator.

Planning what he would do and how he would use my body.

The thought was both delicious and ridiculous, but I’d felt his eyes burning as he studied me from the audience the moment I’d taken the stage. I’d been caught in a freezeframe for ten seconds until Jonas had pinched my arm. Only then had the spell been broken but knowing a mystery man was there had altered my dancing. I’d become lost in a dark fantasy.

I wasn’t certain if I was a bit nuts or just a lonely girl longing to find a special man in her life. My single boyfriend had turned out to be worse than a frog, leaving a horrible taste in my mouth and a lack of desire to go through it again. Whatever the case, I’d thoroughly enjoyed pretending I was dancing for someone incredible who planned on showering me with praise, calling me his good girl. Was I having a daddy figure kind of moment? A giggle erupted from my throat, the elation and adrenaline rush unlike anything I’d felt before.

Still, I couldn’t erase the knowing from my mind even as I sat on the tiny, padded chair in front of a small yet brightly lit mirror. In my mind, I could see his face.

The stranger.

The gloriously gorgeous man. I’d realized I’d fantasized about a nonexistent creature, dancing for him.

And tiny voice inside the back of my mind told me he was coming for me.

I shook off the feelings as Grace smiled from behind me.

“You were fabulous, darling,” she said.

“So were you.”

She rolled her eyes, the reflection allowing me to see. “Right. Let’s see what dear old Gregor has to say during our next practice.”

We both laughed, but our grumpy choreographer had continued to act as oddly as he had when I’d seen him in the corridor, staring at me as if I’d caught him doing a criminal act. It remained unnerving. Now he was nowhere to be found. I was determined to shove what few concerns I had aside.

The excitement was raw, the electricity of our stunning performances and the standing ovation keeping every dancer on edge and squealing. Myself included. I hadn’t felt this overjoyed in as long as I could remember. I adored performing. The lights. The audience. The captivating music. The facility. Everything. But tonight was even more special, even if a hint of sadness was already overwhelming.

Almost every dancer had at least one person in the audience rooting and cheering for them. I had no one. How many times had I wished my mother had been well enough to watch or care about me achieving my dream?

Then again, she’d thought dancing was beneath me, hoping I’d follow in her footsteps of becoming an award-winning actress. Although she’d also told me I wasn’t pretty enough or charismatic enough. I’d never had the same desires as her or the looks to achieve the same goals she had. Sadly, the glamor and the pressure, the weight loss and drug use to keep model thin had taken a significant toll.

Still, as several of the dancers were presented with bouquets of flowers, I sat in my dressing room feeling sorry for myself. At least the thousand dollars left by the gorgeous stranger at my other job had allowed me to purchase a new stunning red dress, the extra money the only reason. While I was a company dancer for the Joffrey, that didn’t mean I earned enough to support both myself and my mother.

The treat and the man had both been unexpected. For once I’d feel sexy for the required party instead of like a wallflower incapable of speaking to anyone. I tugged at the clip in my hair while I glanced in the mirror, taking a deep breath.

Thoughts of the stunning, muscular man continued to flow into my mind. Maybe I was being silly. He was likely married with three kids, getting his jollies by gawking at the dancers. However, he’d seemed so different than the other men who’d done their best to fondle me. More sophisticated, far too handsome. While I hadn’t been able to see the color of his eyes, I had noticed his heated gaze, as if he had been hypnotized by my performance.

He’d been nice to me when my asshole of a boss had treated me like a bitch since I’d been a few minutes late. Sighing, I started to brush my long strands of hair, noticing Jonas was right behind me. Even his parents had been in attendance, a feat since his father had wanted his only son to follow in his footsteps of becoming an attorney. They’d argued for years about Jonas’ decision.

He’d been so happy when they’d come backstage for a few seconds prior to the show.

He came forward, handing me a single red rose, a twinkle in his eye. “You were amazing.”

“No, we were amazing together,” I said and took a deep whiff of the lovely flower.

“Yes, we were,” he teased. “But I thought I lost you there for a few seconds. You seemed to be dancing for someone else altogether. Should I be jealous?”

“Hush. You are my favorite boy toy in the world and you know it.” I grinned and so did he but the question remained.

“I’m serious. It was like you were lost in a haze. What happened?”

“I don’t know. I think I was just amazed at the audience, the energy. And maybe the spotlight,” I said, laughing. And lying. When he lifted his eyebrows, I kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t read into everything, boy toy. Thank you for this.”

“Every star deserves recognition and you, my dear, were the highlight of the stage tonight.” He gripped my shoulders, leaning over and kissing my cheek in return.

I felt myself blushing because I’d already seen the look of jealousy on several of the girls’ faces. I’d been on my game tonight, thrilled everything had worked out so perfectly. When he lifted his head, I tickled the tender area on the side of his neck, both of us laughing.

But something caught both our gazes at the same time. A man was standing just off to the side, the lights surrounding the small mirror allowing me to see his reflection. While half his face remained in the shadows, I knew exactly who was standing behind me. The man from the club.

Oh, God.

Him.

The stranger.

The man I’d been certain was watching me.

He’d been the one I’d been thinking about while dancing, the man obsessed with me. I’d been dancing for him. It was crazy. Or maybe I’d needed a muse for the evening. We were locked in a moment in time where there was nothing and no one else around. He was omnipotent in his beauty, dominating in his subtle moves. And I could feel his hunger ebbing and flowing.

A single tremor of fear skated down my back and I wasn’t certain why. I’d been in a mask as usual, never allowing anyone to know the real girl dancing for the hungry men. I couldn’t risk losing my contract with the Joffrey Ballet, their immorality clause preventing me from dancing in such a sordid environment, possibly sullying the good name of the ballet company. Was he here to expose me?

Get a grip, girl. He doesn’t know who you are.

Jonas whistled, his eyes floating up and down the man’s broad chest in appreciation. “Oh, my goodness. I could eat him for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner.”

“Down, boy,” I whispered.

He chuckled. “It’s easy to see he’s not here for me, tigress. Pity. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. But he does have very good taste, including in flowers. Hold on. Do you know him?”

I noticed what the mystery man was carrying. They appeared to be two dozen sterling silver roses, my absolute favorites. “I’ve never seen him before.”

“Well, he’s intent on knowing you. Be careful, girlfriend. I think that hunk of a man might just bite.” He nuzzled my neck, even blowing in my ear. Jonas adored teasing me relentlessly.

“Stop it, silly man. You’ll be at the party?” I asked, trying to keep my wits about me as the man’s eyes pierced mine. He was more handsome than before, his tuxedo likely costing more than the yearly cost for my apartment, which was pricy.

“Of course, darling, although I’m certain I’ll be fashionably late. However, I wouldn’t miss all those rich assholes for the world. Mom and Dad just want to take me out for a quick bite as a celebration. I think the world just turned on its axis.”

“Maybe your dad is coming around.”

“Maybe he has a hidden agenda as usual. I would ask you to come but I can see you have a hottie waiting for me to leave.”

A small part of me wanted to stop him from leaving but I was a big girl. I could handle the situation, even if the mystery man recognized me. There was something about him that seemed so familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on why.

“Very funny. Go enjoy. Maybe your dad will prove you wrong.”

“And maybe pigs really do fly in the winter. Count on needing to buy me a drink when I arrive at the party.”

I couldn’t help but notice Jonas gave the guest a solid onceover before leaving, giving me his thumbs-up as approval.

A lump had already formed in my throat as the stranger lifted his head, his heated gaze just like I’d remembered from the club. He took a step closer, and I was struck by his incredible scent. A man didn’t have the right to both look amazing in a tuxedo while smelling like sin wrapped in expensive attire. The touch of exotic spices and a species of wood I couldn’t identify had already ignited my senses.

As well as my core, something that hadn’t happened in a long time. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a date let alone hot sex. I was twenty-seven, for God’s sake, and I could count the decent experiences on part of one hand.

The strangest images floated into the back of my mind and they were all extremely dirty. What was going on with me? It had been forever since I’d had sex, but really? Okay, so the man was hot as Hades, evoking another powerful round of longing.

Why in God’s name was I thinking such filthy thoughts when for all I knew, he was one of the rich benefactors I was supposed to be nice to? Maybe in return, flowers were presented to all the female dancers. I slowly stood, trying to keep my wits about me. It was more important than ever to try to pretend I’d never seen him before.

I had to keep my dirty little secret for my mother’s sake.

“Sweet Bella.” His deep voice was husky, completely sensual and the way he said my name created a scintillating feeling of full arousal.

Swallowing, I did what I could to regain my composure as I turned around, offering a kind smile. “Yes, I’m Bella. Do you know me?”

“I know you’re a fabulous dancer.”

He made me blush. “Thank you. Are those for me?”

“Absolutely, although I must admit they are not nearly as beautiful as you are. Perhaps next time I’ll need to provide several dozen.”

There was such darkness in his deep baritone, the sound more like a beast in the wild than actual vocal cords. He was older, maybe ten or so years, the hint of gray at his temples only adding to the distinguished and suave look he had. There was a distinct twinkle in his eyes, as if he knew my darkest secrets and passionate needs.

I took the crystal vase from his hand, doing the obligatory deep whiff before placing it on the small table. “Nonsense. These are incredible. Thank you very much.”

“Of course, Bella.” Even the way he accentuated the two syllables in my name was sexy.

“You know my name?” A strange tickling sensation scuttled into me. Maybe I should be concerned instead of flattered. I licked my lower lip and he shifted his gaze, studying the subtle move intently. Were his nostrils flaring?

He laughed and the sound sent quivers deep into my pussy, my throat and lips suddenly so parched I dragged the tip of my tongue across my bottom lip again. He was watching me intently, his chiseled jaw clenched. He was even more handsome up close, the long shaggy dark curls falling just to his shoulders.

“Absolutely,” he said and I obviously had a fearful look on my face. He lowered his head slightly, allowing his eyes to shift back and forth. “From the program? You were featured prominently?”

What an idiot I was.

“Oh, yes.” Now the heat was really rising on my cheeks, something even in the dim lighting I was certain he could see. “Of course. And you are?”

“Creed Saint. A lover of the arts, a master of none. Enough of a lover that my brothers and I are creating a special facility for underprivileged artists.”

Ah, yes, I’d heard a major corporation had broken ground on a sweeping several story building. Was he trying to impress me? It was going to take a lot more than stunning flowers, arrogance, and inflating his own ego.

“Oh, come now. I’m certain you’re very talented.” I allowed a hint of defiance to slide into my voice, which seemed to amuse him.

“Perhaps in business, yes, but I’m not very creative. However, the Saint brothers are attempting to expand their horizons.”

Why did his name ring a strong bell? He was powerful. That was obvious. Rich? You bet. Where did I know him from?

When it dawned on me, I was floored by the fact he’d sought me out. I was also back to being concerned that he had.

TheCreed Saint. He’d been in every Chicago newsletter and online magazine. I hadn’t paid close attention, but I knew enough to realize the man was as rich as he was dangerous. Sadly, I couldn’t remember the reasons why. I’d been in my little cocoon for so long that the outside world seemed untouchable. Still, I was nobody in comparison to a wealthy man who could have any woman on his arm.

“Bella Rothschild.” While he already knew my name, saying it out loud seemed the appropriate thing to do. Why did the man make me so nervous? I held out my hand for a polite handshake and he lifted a single eyebrow, the corners of his mouth turning up. While he took my hand into his, he brought it to his mouth, brushing his lips back and forth.

I wasn’t the kind of girl to swoon over any man. At least that was one decent thing my mother had taught me, but Creed was dangerously close to pushing every button I had, the longing increasing.

“You look very familiar. Have we met before?”

There was a strange glint in his eyes as he asked me the question. I had a feeling he recognized me from the club, maybe thinking I was easy. The thought alone infuriated me. “I don’t think so, Mr. Saint. I’m a good girl trying to make a better world for herself and nothing more. You’re a rich man with a fetish for control.”

“My goodness. You think you know me and we just met. However, oddly enough, you are correct. I came to ask you if you’d consider having a drink with me tonight.” He acted as if he didn’t want to let my hand go, finally doing so and adding a more mischievous grin.

The invitation shocked the hell out of me. I was flustered and floored at the same time, unable to say anything at first. I didn’t care if he was a famous person in the dark coils of the Chicago underground or in the upper echelon of society and highly respected. Neither precluded him from being a possible freak.

Or worse.

At least I didn’t need to come up with a plausible excuse. “I’m sorry, Mr. Saint. Tonight, I have a party for the ballet company I’m required to go to. It’s part of my contract with the ballet. We’re trying to raise money.”

I had a sense my answer made him angry. I was teetering on running away, but I stood my ground.

He took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it out. “Yes. Of course. Perhaps another time.”

“Maybe. Unfortunately, my schedule is very busy right now with the various performances and practices.”

“Yes. I understand. However, I’m not the kind of man who usually takes no for an answer. I will enjoy spending time with you, Bella. It’s rare to meet the one person you know is supposed to be in your life.” He stepped closer and instead of feeling crowded or overwhelmed, I was more electrified than ever. Since I was still in my leotard from the last performance, it was easy to tell my nipples were rock hard, the throbbing between my legs intensifying.

But the moment he lifted his arm, curling his fingers before rubbing them across my cheek, he set my entire body on fire. I was stunned by my body’s reaction, my heart racing as it had never done before.

Every aspect of the man screamed of power, his aristocratic features only part of what took my breath away. Why did I have the distinct feeling he was dominating, his earlier answer only the beginning of his need to possess a token of prey?

I was building a fantasy world like in a crazy romance novel, only in my mind a serial killer didn’t serve well for achieving a happily-ever-after. His touch was gentle, stroking me as he would a kitten he was holding in his lap. I almost found myself purring, which was as silly as my body’s immediate reaction.

As quickly as his tender touch from his hand had begun, it was removed, the absence of the rough pads of his fingers creating a hole in me. Wow. That was the only word I could think of for my reaction.

I purposely broke the mesmerizing moment, taking a deliberate step away. “Thank you for the flowers, Mr. Saint. I apologize but I need to get changed for the party.” I was thankful I’d found my voice and my usual defiance, breaking the obvious spell he had over me.

His heated look became even darker, much more possessive than before. “Until we meet again, sweet dancer, and please call me Creed, Bella. And I assure you that we will meet again. And when we do, it will just be the beginning. We’re going to become very close, you and I. Soon, I’ll make you a star.”

The hunger increased, the possessive need keeping me on a steep precipice.

With that he turned around, taking careful steps away, acting more regal than before. And for far too many reasons, I wanted to ask him what beginning he was talking about.

I’d been right.

He’d come for me.

And once I was captured, he would never let me go.