Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nicolette
After Gio slammed my door and left me alone in the guest room, I sank to the floor and cried. Not because he was cruel—I knew him better than that—but because all traces of the loving man I’d left behind had been replaced by a cold, calculating cynicism that I didn’t understand. It had been too long since I’d been in his sphere, too long since listening to intense dinner conversations in the Vitale mansion, and way too long being on my own.
Marko had changed too, like he’d traded up from jeans to custom-made Italian suits. His outward appearance had changed, but deep down, his character hadn’t. The added toughness and take-no-prisoners attitude made me hungry to be taken by him. Back at the hotel, I’d drunkenly crawled into his bed, hoping he’d take me like in the old days. He’d gently declined my advances and threw an arm over me, falling quickly back to sleep.
When my eyes grew too heavy to resist anymore, I’d fallen asleep with his heavy arm sinking me into a blissful place of peace and safety I hadn’t felt in a long time. Gio finding us that way in the morning was both a blessing and a curse.
Hail Mary full of grace.
His anger showed that he felt something for me, but it also showed me how hurt he was.
I hadn’t fought his demand for my return home, knowing that he would ensure I lived through my final performance. Now, I wondered if being so agreeable and compliant was such a good idea. I’d put my life into the hands of a very angry man who was capable of anything.
Frustrated and upset, I finally went to the one place that offered freedom from hurtful thoughts and scary feelings—dance. It didn’t matter if I was in class or rehearsal or just dancing on my own; nothing burdened me. Dance brought solace to my soul, and it was in those moments that my world made sense.
I’d always danced as a child, at least until my mother passed. Afterward, if my father caught me dancing, he would always punish me. He hadn’t been able to cope with losing my mother, and her death had destroyed the human part of him, leaving a nasty enforcer behind to raise their daughter.
Moving and switching to a school that offered performing arts had been a huge blessing. I spent hours in church thanking Mary for my luck changing for the better. That would have been enough to help me float in an attitude of gratefulness for the rest of my life, but I’d also found Gio and Marko.
They’d become my family and the entire Vitale clan along with them. Guilt and shame stole through me at how much pain running away from them must have caused, especially when coupled with the death of Luciano, Gio’s father.
So many times, I wished I could reach out to Isabella, but each time I pressed the buttons for the house number, I’d hung up. What would I say? How could I explain my reasons for leaving to the only person who’d been like a mother to me, even more than my own had ever been?
Screw it! I changed into a tank and shorts and grabbed my shoes. I tiptoed down the hallway to find Gio’s bedroom. The blanket was thrown back and I couldn’t help staring at his body and the changes in it since I’d last seen him naked. He was muscular, but far from bulky. Gio had always been way too handsome for his own good, drawing women like bees to honey.
His legs were larger, stronger than before, his chest widened and tapered to a sexy V at his trim waist… His long, thick cock lay against his inner thigh, a sleeping beast that called to me to touch it. Before I could give in, he moved onto his side, hiding the temptation from sight.
Tiptoeing back the way I’d come, I headed outdoors and into the sun. The brightness of the day mocked my inner melancholy, and I almost went back inside. But doing so would just sink me back to the buzzing thoughts of doubt and introspection I longed to escape.
I sat down on the edge of the stage and put on my shoes, flexing and pointing until they felt just right. I put in my air pods, a gift from my sponsor, and found my warm-up playlist.
I worked through plié , ronde de jambe en l’air , and a host of classic warm-up poses until I felt sufficiently ready to leap and twirl. The play we would be performing in a few weeks was a modernized, bastardized version of Firebird called The Debt , the script having been rewritten by my director, Sergei, the supposed great-grandson of Sergei Diaghilev, a talented man who helped to bring Firebird to the stages of Russia and Europe at the turn of the last century.
I imagined myself as a bird with magical abilities, envisioning Gio as the great hunter who spared my life in exchange for a boon. My mind wandered to Marko, always the negotiator, the prince in search of the magical bird he’d fallen in love with.
It was easy to see the irony of the love story in the ballet, Firebird as being my last performance as prima ballerina. If God had a sense of humor, I would be the punch line.
As I deepened into my role, those comparisons drifted, as did the doubt and angst that had been my companions since seeing Gio for the first time that morning. The cloudless blue sky hovered above me as I leapt and spun, trying to evade my fate, only to finally fall to the ground, exhausted and captured by the relentless hunter.
This was one of my favorite parts. I bowed my head in acknowledgement of the two choices I had. Either submit and live or fight and die. I loved this part because it allowed me to explore through movement what my entire life had been: a struggle between two opposing forces.
The hunter raised his bow, but I plucked a feather from my wing and held it before him in offering. He accepted my magical feather in exchange for my life. I was free to leave but would never be free of him until he claimed his one wish, only then would my life be my own.
I rose from the earth, weaving and twirling as I fought through the imaginary woods that had filled in around me, thick limbs and trailing vines reaching out to pull me into the darkness.
A patch of light ahead brought me to a momentary pause and I found myself spinning, basking in my momentary freedom. I stopped when the music did and leaned my hands on my thighs to catch my breath. Noticing the sun no longer warmed my skin, I looked up and saw that daylight had passed and was headed toward sunset, leaving orange and pink clouds in its wake.
It was only then I became cognizant of how long I’d been outside. I needed to be ready for dinner at six pm.
The silence was replaced by a slow clap, and I looked over to see that Gio had stepped up to the stage to help me down. Completely unnecessary, but I celebrated the fact he was touching me at all, even if it was just his warm hand on my elbow.
He wore an honest expression of awe and appreciation that took me by surprise.
I tried to hide the delight I felt at the old Gio making an appearance, but before I could shutter my brief happiness, he was already back to being the standoffish cold mafia man that I’d endured since he stormed into the bedroom and found Marko and me in bed together.
I dropped my gaze and hoped I'd successfully hidden the hurt. “Thanks. Don’t worry, I’ll quickly get cleaned up and be ready for dinner.” I hustled away, acknowledging the return of the knots in my stomach.
It was ridiculous, I knew, needing him to show me a sign that he still wanted me, when he clearly hated me, and with good reason. I had no right to have expectations regarding either man after what I’d done, leaving them like that, but it didn’t change how much I wanted it to be true. In Marko’s case, he was hanging on to his control by a thread and I assumed, holding back from taking me the way I wanted out of respect to Gio.
Nothing happened unless Gio allowed it, which was both frustrating and sexy as hell. The sexy part haunted me when I stepped into the shower a few minutes later. I moaned with pleasure as I turned the water on and the multiple jets massaged my shoulders, back and buttocks. In need of relief, I sat on the shower bench, placing one heel on the edge of the bench.
The water hit my sensitive slick opening and sheer pleasure zinged through me. Reaching down, I circled the hardened nub demanding release. I pictured opening the door back at my apartment and seeing Marko. His dark, angry expression taking me in, and the palpable relief expressed in his dark visage when he saw I was okay.
My vision shifted to Gio leaning me back by the staircase at the hotel. His body pinning me in place, his gaze searing me into stillness. I couldn’t hold back the moan as my mind jumped back and forth between the strong images.
Sinking a finger inside my wet heat, I penetrated my swollen lips, burying a second, and then a third, but it still wasn’t enough. Using my other hand, I teased my clit with the pad of my finger, easily gliding it across the surface. I alternated between circles, and furiously rubbing, as I coaxed myself toward release.
Heat traveled down my spine in waves. I was close, but I needed more. Angling my body toward the multiple jets, I shifted until one caught the tip of my nipple. A powerful orgasm ripped through me, and I cried out. Thank goodness I was sitting down as I was pretty sure I would have collapsed on the tiled shower floor had I been standing. Instead, I was left panting on the seat in the aftermath of a powerful orgasm, only standing when the water began to turn cold.
Exiting the shower, I saw anything a girl could ever want displayed on the counter. I spent extra time on my long locks instead of throwing my hair up in a damp ponytail like I usually did.
I added moisturizer to my face and gloss to my lips. Standing back, I checked out my image in the mirror, happy with the results of looking less ballerina and more woman for a change. Now I just needed to complete the look with the right outfit. In my room, I dug through my suitcase, bypassing my older clothing and looking at the new stuff Marko had bought me.
A glittery gold cocktail dress grabbed my attention. I held it up in front of me in the mirror. It was sexy as hell, but I didn’t wish to appear like I was trying too hard. I dug a little more and found a figure-hugging white mini dress in the softest material I’d ever felt, and smirked at my image when I put it on.
Oh yeah, just try and not notice me in this dress, I hummed to myself.
A white thong accompanied the dress, and I purposely did not choose a bra. After a final check in the mirror, I was ready to confront Gio.