Chapter 4
CHANTEL
“This is why you really lured all of us out here, isn’t it?” Lucia eyes the costumes laid out in Abella’s suite.
“Of course not.” Abella feigns innocence. “It’s just an added bonus. Since when do we shy away from group activities?”
“Since it involves preparing for childbirth.” Gabi grimaces, clearly terrified by the idea. “If I’m not having a baby, can I be excluded?”
“The way your husband paws at you, I wouldn’t be so sure.” Serafina gives her a pointed look.
“How exactly does this help with childbirth?” Lucia asks.
“It conditions the muscles,” Abella explains. “But it’s not just for that. It will be fun, I promise.”
“You can count me in.” Rafe, one of the other Vitale brothers, pops his head in the door. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my future nephew.”
Abella casts him a suspicious glance. “The hot belly dance instructor is here, isn’t she?”
“You mean my future wife?” He smirks.
“In your dreams.” Abella rolls her eyes. “Where did you leave the poor woman?”
“She’s outside on the patio setting up. But don’t worry, I’ll keep her company.”
Mariella shakes her head as he strolls off, whistling his way down the hall. “He’s an incurable flirt.”
“So?” Abella beams at us hopefully. “Are we doing this?”
“I’m game.” I grab the black-and-gold ensemble, which consists of a sheer chiffon skirt, matching coin bra, and a belt.
Mariella shoots me a look.
“What?” I shrug. “I’ll use the stability ball. No ankle involvement, I promise.”
It’s actually feeling much better this morning, but I know it won’t take much to aggravate it again. So I’m not tempted to try my luck.
While the girls pick out their outfits, I venture into Abella’s massive closet to change into mine. Pretty soon, the others join me, and the room breaks into a chaotic scene of laughter and jingling coins as they test out their costumes.
When my phone rings and I see I have an incoming video call from Kenzie, I step out of the room to answer it.
“Hey.” I smile at her when her face pops onto the screen. “Just give me a minute to find a quiet place.”
“Okay.” She nods, chewing on her lip in that nervous way she does.
Kenzie is a younger dancer at the club who’s been through a lot, and we bonded over our shared experiences.
She’s been confiding in me recently, trying to navigate her way through many of the same emotions I have.
I’ve become a safe space for her, and I want to make sure I’m there when she needs me.
I wander down the hall and into the family library, taking a seat on one of the oversized chairs.
“Okay, I’m all yours.”
Kenzie nods, the breath whooshing from her lungs. “So I’m kind of freaking out.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’m staying with Andreas tonight.”
“Oh.” I offer her a reassuring smile, fairly certain I know where she’s heading with this.
“Don’t get me wrong, the man is insanely talented with his fingers and mouth.” She lets out an awkward little laugh. “But I’m so tired of being stuck at third base. I think I’m finally ready to try this whole sex thing again.”
“How are you feeling about it?”
“I’m excited, but I’m also really nervous. I have all these thoughts about how I’ll respond, and I’m worried I’m going to be too inside my head.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I think that’s normal.”
“Is that how it was for you at first?”
“I was a hot mess,” I admit, cringing as I think about it.
“Really?” Her brows shoot up in surprise. “You always seem like you have it together. You’re so comfortable talking about these things, and you’re way more confident than I am. I keep wishing I could just get to where you are.”
“Trust me, if you’d seen who I was six years ago, you wouldn’t even recognize me,” I tell her. “I’ve come a long way, but it didn’t happen overnight, and I still have a whole load of baggage.”
“How’d you make progress?”
I consider it for a moment, thinking back to that time in my life and the event that started it all.
“Believe it or not, it was a support group that motivated me, but probably not in the way you’d expect.”
“What do you mean?” Kenzie asks.
“We were discussing the expectations society has for women who have been through this kind of trauma,” I explain.
“One woman said it felt like she was always being judged based on what other people considered normal or acceptable. That really resonated, and I admitted that power dynamics appealed to me. But I felt a lot of shame over that, like maybe there was something wrong with me. And ironically enough, it was the judgment that came from another woman in that group that shifted my perspective.”
“What did she say to you?” Kenzie frowns.
“She told me she couldn’t understand why I’d let a man treat me that way after what had happened. So essentially, she proved my point.”
“Wow,” Kenzie mutters under her breath. “I wish I’d been there. I definitely would have had something to say.”
I smile at her protectiveness. “I think people either get it or they don’t. But I’m actually grateful that she said it.”
“Why?”
“Because I couldn’t accept it.” I shrug.
“When you come from a background like mine, education is an act of rebellion. Her words lit a fire in me, and I rebelled hard—learning everything I could on the subject. And not only did it make me realize there wasn’t anything wrong with what I wanted, it helped me embrace who I am.
I decided that I’m the only person who gets to choose what’s right for me, and fuck what anyone else thinks. ”
“And that’s why you’re one of my favorite people,” Kenzie says. “I need to remember that motto.”
“I’ll remind you if anyone ever tries to bring you down,” I promise her. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, and it’s okay to move on with your life and start a new chapter. From everything you’ve told me about Andreas, it sounds like he makes you feel safe and loved, and you deserve that.”
“Thanks,” she says softly. “I hope you feel the same about yourself someday.”
I offer her a weak smile just as Mariella pokes her head in the door, quietly letting me know the class is about to start. I nod at her, then turn back to Kenzie to wrap things up.
“You’ll have to let me know how things go,” I tell her. “I’ll be here if you need me.”
“Thank you. I feel better just talking it through. But before you run off, I have something else.” She rifles around in her purse and pulls out an envelope. “This was on your dressing table.”
My stomach sinks as I study the familiar scrawl on the letters that have been arriving with alarming frequency. Whoever it is just left me one two days ago, and they used to be a week apart.
“I have to say this is freaking me out.” Kenzie glares at the envelope. “I know you thought it was just a patron, but this is a lot. Do you think we should tell Viktor?”
“No.” I shake my head quickly. The last thing I want to do is bring this to the manager’s attention. He’ll just find a way to blame me. “Can you open it?”
She bites her lip and nods, shoulders stiffening as she unfolds the paper and stares at it.
“What does it say?” I prompt her, my stomach churning as the color drains from her face.
She holds it up with a shaky hand so I can read it for myself.
Does my loyalty mean nothing to you?
These past three months have been perfect with just the two of us, but you had to go to that party and ruin everything all over again.
Why would you want to see Marco? I thought we finally understood each other.
Then you let that fucking Italian touch you?
Don’t make me get ugly, K. You won’t like it when I do.
I study those hastily scrawled lines as my blood runs cold. Whoever this is, he’s never admitted to watching me outside the club before, though I’ve suspected it. He knows far too much about me, and that singular letter at the end reads like nothing less than a threat.
It triggers a familiar fear that my past is catching up with me. That he’s found me, and this is his way of tormenting me before he makes me disappear forever. But the longer I stare at it, the more I convince myself that it must be a coincidence.
Logically, it doesn’t make sense that it could be him.
Ares keeps tabs on the entire Seattle area, and I trust that he would tell me if I was in danger.
But I still can’t seem to shake this feeling.
I’ve received a lot of weird gifts and notes in my years as a performer, but these are different. And I’m not the only one who thinks so.
“I don’t like this, Chantel,” Kenzie reiterates. “This isn’t just fan behavior. He’s escalating.”
“I’ll handle it,” I assure her. “But for now, please just keep this between us.”
She hesitates a moment before she nods. “Okay, but promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I will.”
We say our goodbyes, and I sit quietly with my thoughts until soft footsteps draw my attention to the door. When I catch the expression on Mariella’s face as she approaches, I know she never left.
“I’m guessing you overheard that?” I force some levity into my tone, but it does nothing to convince her.
She sits in the chair across from me, concern etched into her features.
“I had a feeling you weren’t as casual about this stalker as you said you were. You told us about it in case something happens, didn’t you?”
I don’t acknowledge it, but I don’t need to. Mariella can see she’s right.
“Something’s been off with you for a while now,” she observes. “Does this have anything to do with your past?”
I wring my hands together in my lap, not even sure what to say. I’m so tired of worrying all the time, trying to predict everything that can go wrong, and actively trying to prevent it.
In therapy, they told me to walk through the worst-case scenario, as if I’d eventually realize it wasn’t as bad as my mind made out. Except, in my situation, the worst-case scenario ends with me dying, and I don’t know how walking through that is supposed to help.