Chapter 3
CHAPTER
THREE
SOFIYA
The opening notes of the song fill the empty studio, and I catch my reflection in the mirror. My black leotard clings to me like a second skin. Every muscle is taut with energy, ready to spring into action. For a moment, I close my eyes, imagining the crowd’s buzz and the rush of anticipation I’ll feel in a couple of days when I’m onstage.
I take a deep breath and launch into a sharp turn that flows into a powerful leap. The mirrors echo my every action, each sweep of my arms and kick of my legs deliberate and precise. Months of relentless practice have made this routine second nature, and with each movement, I sink into the rhythm and let the story take over.
A smattering of applause takes me out of my bubble and pulls me back into the present.
“Knew we’d find you here,” Daria announces. She and Alex stand at the room’s entrance with my bodyguard, Samuil. He makes eye contact with me and nods before turning around to stand guard outside the studio.
“My home away from home,” I quip. “Where else would you find me?”
I reach for a towel to wipe my brow as Alex hands me a bottle of water, which I take gratefully, downing half of it in one go.
Daria and Alex are not only my best friends but also fellow students at the performing arts college. We met in our first year, stuck in a ballet class we all despised.
Alex narrows his eyes. “Have you eaten dinner yet?” When I freeze and an oh shit look flickers over my face, he sighs. “Sofi, it’s nearly nine.”
I slump back against the wall. “I know, I know. Time got away from me.”
“I see we need to take over the situation.” Daria rests a hand on her curvy hip. Her stark black bob sways in front of her face, and she gives me a hard stare that nobody in their right mind would argue with. Daria looks like an emo dominatrix, with a septum piercing and a wardrobe of leather and lace—but she’s actually sweet once you get past her hardened, no BS outer layer.
Alex, on the other hand, is a human golden retriever, loyal to a fault and always looking out for his friends.
“Shower, and get dressed. We’re taking you out for food,” Alex insists. His stern tone would be more effective if he weren’t so damn boyish with shaggy, sandy blond hair and big pouty lips that make him especially popular with the other guys at our school.
I wouldn’t bother arguing even if I weren’t starving; when these two get something in their minds, there’s no dissuading them.
An hour later, we’re cozied up in our favorite diner across from the college, waiting on the meals we ordered.
I’m hoping to steer clear of any comments about my tireless rehearsing, but my stomach’s loud growl betrays me. All students put in extra hours leading up to graduation, but admittedly, I’ve been a little hyperfocused, practicing up to twelve hours a day, losing myself so completely that I forget basic things like eating.
Daria frowns, spreading a napkin on her lap. “What's going on? You don’t need to practice like you’re a first-year student, running yourself ragged. Save some energy for the actual recital.”
The waitress drops off our food, and I have to stop myself from tearing into my sandwich like a wild beast, even though I have the appetite of one. “Word is scouts from the major European dance companies will be at the recital, including one from the Berlin Contemporary Dance Company. I want it to go perfectly.”
Daria and Alex know that the Berlin dance company is my dream. Their performances are innovative and bold but always beautifully performed.
Alex frowns. “It will go perfectly. You’ve put your heart and soul into this dance, and the teachers picked you for a reason—because you’re the best.” He lays his hand over mine. “Don’t let anyone make you doubt that.”
“I know. It must be nerves,” I acknowledge.
“Have you told Liza about Berlin yet?” Daria asks, taking a sip of her drink.
“A few days ago. She took it better than I thought. I mean, she was surprised and a little sad about me leaving, but I think she gets it. Now, I need to land a job in Berlin so I can support myself.”
“You will.” Alex wraps an arm around me. “Come on, you need a little motivation. Let’s play the game.”
“Again? Aren’t you guys sick of hearing about my dream life?”
“Absolutely not!” Daria rests her elbows on the table and leans her chin in her hand. “Because then I get to tell you mine.”
I sigh, but a smile creeps onto my face. “Fine. I’ll live in a small, sunlit apartment above a café in Berlin. I’ll be part of an amazing dance company, spending my nights and weekends performing. In my spare time, I’ll bike through the city, exploring and wandering through art galleries and quaint little bookstores. All without a bodyguard,” I add because, hell, this is my dream life scenario.
I turn to Alex. “Your turn.”
He sits back, a thoughtful expression settling over his face. “I’m going to live in a beautiful flat in London’s Soho, close enough to walk to the theatre district. I’ll land a leading role in something big—a musical or maybe one of those classic dramas. My nights will be spent at the pubs with the rest of the cast and making out with all the cute boys.”
Daria snorts. “And how is that different from your life now… minus the very expensive real estate?”
Alex elbows her, but she just grins. “All right, your turn, Miss Hollywood.”
“I’ll find a little place in the Hollywood Hills, one of those old art deco apartments with a view of the city. I’ll land a role on the next big Netflix series opposite some super famous and hunky actor, who I’ll also be fucking on the side.”
“I love that for you,” I deadpan.
We’re all quiet for a minute before Alex speaks up. “I’m going to miss you two.”
I swipe a napkin across my mouth, setting my sandwich down. “I can’t believe that after this week, we go our separate ways.”
Daria and Alex exchange a look. “And that’s why we have something planned for after the final performance,” Daria says, leaning toward me.
Alex rubs his hands together. Okay, they definitely have something up their sleeves.
“And that is?”
“I got us VIP tickets to Soundsystem.” When I stare blankly at Daria, she rolls her eyes. “It’s the hottest nightclub in Moscow right now. How do you not know this?”
“Because I don’t go to clubs.” It’s not like I don’t want to go out and have a good time, but constantly being trailed by a bodyguard puts a damper on that kind of fun.
“Well, get ready for a legendary night. Without him.” Alex nods toward Sam, seated across the room, his attention on the door like he’s expecting an ambush.
I snicker. “Good luck with that. Wherever I go, he goes. That’s kind of the point.”
“Oh, come on.” Daria pouts. “I get that a bodyguard is part of your life, but you deserve one night of freedom. I can’t imagine you’re a high-profile target.”
“And he’s a total killjoy.” Alex wrinkles his nose. “Always giving you a dirty look if you dare to have a second drink.”
They’re not wrong, but Liza and Roman have drilled into me that I could be a target if someone wanted revenge on the Syndicate. It’s unlikely, but not impossible.
“I don’t know, guys. Liza would kill me if something bad happened.”
“Well, you’d already be dead, so who cares?” Alex bats his baby blues at me, fully aware of how persuasive he can be. “Come on. It’s our last night to have fun before we all go our separate ways.”
“It’s a bad idea,” I murmur, but with less conviction.
“Bad ideas are the best ones,” Daria adds. They both stare at me expectantly.
I know it’s reckless, that I shouldn’t take a chance, but it’s my grad night, and I refuse to miss out on a night to remember with my friends before everything changes. “Screw it. I’m in.”
They both squeal and clap their hands, but I shush them, motioning with my head toward Sam.
Alex blows out a breath. “Speaking of which, how are you going to get rid of broody Sam over there?”
I drum my fingers on the table in thought. “The fire escape is the only way.” I’ve never climbed down the narrow ladder before—it’s four stories, after all—but with a guard stationed out front of my building, I don’t have a choice. “It’ll drop me straight into the alley.”
“Then it’s settled. We’ll pick you up around the back of your building. Get slutted up and prepare to have some fun.” Daria grins. “Maybe you’ll even meet a sexy guy and do something crazy like, I don't know, have a one-night stand?”
“One thing at a time,” I joke. “I’m sneaking out—let’s not jump to sleeping with someone whose last name I don’t even know.”
My friends love to tease me about the fact that I've never had a one-night stand. Yeah, I’ve gone on dates. I even managed to lose my virginity to a guy I briefly dated last year, a rigger on the backstage crew. I was attracted to him; he was cute and funny, but... I don’t know. The chemistry wasn't there.
What does that even mean, chemistry? I’m not sure myself.
Liar.
Nikolai’s brutal but handsome face flashes in my mind. My friends don’t know about that part of my life—the kidnapping, the nearly forced marriage, and how the man who saved me is just as dangerous as the monsters he protected me from.
But somehow, he still plays a starring role in my fantasies.
Alex smirks, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Last names are overrated.”
Daria balls up her napkin and drops it on her empty plate. “Sex isn’t always about love and romance. Sometimes, it’s about getting a hardcore f?—”
I clear my throat. Sam’s attention is on me, and a blush stains my cheeks. Not that I have any reason to feel embarrassed—my sex life, or lack thereof, is none of his business. But considering it’s his job to keep me safe, bringing a stranger back to my apartment for the night would probably be out of the question.
I meet his gaze with a broad smile that he doesn’t return. Instead, he shifts his focus back to the diner’s front door.
“And that’s why he’s not invited,” Alex says with an evil grin.