2. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Lana
Ionly get a small scream out before the man lunges at me. In one fast motion, he has me pressed against the vanity table and the knife to my throat.
“Who are you?” I demand. “Why are you doing this? What do you want? Money? I have a lot of money. I can make you rich.”
Now that I’m face to face with the man, I can see that he’s a very basic looking one. Nothing distinguishable about his features. Makes him the perfect man to hide in the shadows. How long had he been in this room and I hadn’t noticed?
He sneers. “I already have money. Money I was paid to kill you.”
I go very still. To kill me? But who would want to kill…
“Who sent you? Who wants me dead?”
“Now, why would I tell you that?” He digs the knife harder against my neck. I gasp when I feel a prick of blood drip down my skin and onto my white ballerina costume.
“If you’re going to kill me, why haven’t you done it already?”
His smile is pure horror. “Because I like having fun with my victims first.”
My hands claw behind me, looking for anything on the vanity table I can use to fight. They wrap around a rat-tailed comb. Without hesitating, I use it to stab the man in the eye. He jerks back with a scream before he comes back at me, hitting me hard across the face.
I fall to the ground from the impact of it and he gets on top of me. Despite his bleeding eye, he still can see enough to raise the knife high.
This is it. I am going to die. This was the last thing on my mind today. The day I was finally going to achieve my dream of being the lead.
The door bursts open and my mystery man storms inside, an anger in his eyes that wasn’t there the night we met.
He grabs my attacker’s wrist and forces him to drop the knife.
I gasp when my mystery man wrenches my attacker off me and throws him to the ground before punching him over and over and over again.
I scramble away and wipe my neck. My hand comes away covered in blood. My white dress is stained with it.
“What is going on in here?” I can hear Camille’s voice getting closer. “I hear commotion and commotion shouldn’t be happening on the night of my show.” She stops in the doorway and screams when she sees what’s happening.
My mystery man stops punching my attacker and gets to his feet, breathing heavy. He ignores the cluster of girls that forms in the doorway as he walks over to me and holds out his hand.
I stare at it. Covered in blood from how hard he hit the other man.
“It’s all right,” he murmurs. “I protected you from him. He was going to kill you.”
“How…” I lick my lips and his eyes dart right to them. “How did you know I was being attacked?”
“I didn’t. I came by to see you and didn’t hesitate.”
I shiver. So this man is dangerous. I was right. Most people would have hesitated to stop a man with a knife. And most people would definitely not have punched that man to a pulp.
My attacker groans on the floor. Still alive. It’s a miracle given how hard my mystery man was punching him.
“It’s all right, Lana,” my mystery man murmurs.
I startle at my name. “How do you know who I am?”
“I’ve been to the ballet many times. I’ve seen you dance many times. I know your name. It’s all right.”
“What happened in here?” Camille demands, entering the room.
My mystery man still ignores her, only keeping his eyes on me. “Your neck is bleeding. It needs to be looked at. Now come on. Stand up.” There’s a hardness to his tone. A soft command like he’s used to being listened to.
His hand is still held out for me. Slowly, with my trembling hand, I take his. The moment he wraps his hand around mine, I feel a surge of electricity. I gasp and his eyes darken, though I’m not sure why.
He pulls me to my feet with a gentleness that surprises me. “You’re all right now, Lana. I’m here.”
I think his words are supposed to be comforting but I’m not sure they are.
“What happened?” Camille asks again. Her eyes widen when she takes in my disheveled state. “Lana. Your bleeding.”
“This man…” I point at my attacker on the floor. He still hasn’t been able to get up from the damage my mystery man did to his face. “He came at me with a knife. I don’t know who he is. Just that someone sent him to kill me.”
“Someone sent him to kill you?” Maria asks with an eagerness in her eyes. All of my fellow ballerinas are crowded in the doorway, trying to get a look at the scene of the crime.
“Who would do that?” Ana asks. “You’re not important enough to kill.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Ekaterina mutters. “Claudia. She’s probably pissed that she had her ankle broken in a fight with Lana and then Lana gets to take her role? I’d be pissed too.”
“Girls, enough,” Camille scolds.
I’m too stunned to say anything. The entire time I can feel my mystery man looking at me. I can’t look back.
“We don’t know anything,” Camille continues. “I’ll call the police. They’ll come handle this.”
“Let me do that,” my mystery man says.
Camille narrows her eyes. “Who are you? And what are you doing in this private dressing room?”
“I came by to see Lana and was told that this was her room for the night. It’s a good thing I came in here. I saved her life.”
“And I’m grateful you did. But strange men really shouldn’t be coming back stage to see my girls.”
“He’s not strange,” I blurt out. “I know him.” It’s all a lie of course.
“You know him?” Camille asks, raising her eyebrows.
“Yes. He saved my life. We should be thanking him.” For some reason, I don’t want Camille to think badly of this man. I mean, he did save my life.
But I’m still weary of him and I definitely don’t trust him. To punch my attacker the way he did – the anger in his eyes – it wasn’t normal. It’s something only a dangerous man would do. Someone who doesn’t think twice about violence.
“I’ll get this all sorted out,” my mystery man says.
“What’s your name?” Camille demands.
“Nikolai Smirnoff.”
An energy sweeps over my body at the sound of his name.
I finally have one. Nikolai. It’s a good, handsome name.
But his last name has me on edge. Smirnoff sounds familiar though I’m not sure why.
Is this man a part of the Bratva? I’ve never seen him around any of my father’s events so if he is, he’s not working with my dad.
And that’s terrifying. A Bratva man who doesn’t work for my father is incredibly dangerous to me.
But that’s assuming he is one. Smirnoff is a common enough last name. He might be just some random man who loves the ballet. Yet… my gut won’t stop telling me to listen to it.
“I saved Lana’s life,” Nikolai continues. “Let me call the police. They should hear what happened from me. I am a witness after all.”
“And so am I,” Camille adds. Her firmness is admirable.
“And so are we,” Maria says with a giggle. The other girls are taking too much pleasure in this. What would have happened if I had really died? Would they have laughed at my funeral?
“All right,” Nikolai says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Let us call the police.”
The police arrive within the hour to question all of us. I give my statement. Nikolai gives his. Camille and the other ballerinas do the same. It’s fairly routine. They arrest my attacker.
The girls all ooh and aww as the police walk my attacker out of the building. He can barely walk from how badly Nikolai had hit him.
I stay back, observing everything, showing no emotion on my face. The ice princess.
That’s how I’m able to notice Nikolai’s interaction with the police. The two men who come to take our statements and arrest my attacker show Nikolai respect from the way they nod at him. They’re almost… reverential, like he’s higher on the totem pole than they are.
The police here are known for their roughness. They typically show people – no matter who you are – only coldness and treat you like you’re the bad guy even if you’re the victim.
Case in point how they spoke to me tonight.
“What were you doing when the man attacked?” one of the officers had asked me earlier.
“In my dressing room. Getting ready for my show.”
The officer had looked me up and down in a way that I instantly hated. Like I was an animal he could pick apart and eat. “And you were wearing that when he attacked you?”
“Are you trying to blame me for this?” My tone had been flat.
He only shrugged, silently telling me that yes, he did think this was all my fault somehow.
Now, as I watch the same officer, he practically bows to Nikolai, even though Nikolai beat my attacker to a pulp. There’s no victim blaming there. They respect Nikolai.
So who exactly is my savior?
I sit with the other ballerinas in the main, large dressing room. They all chatter around me.
“What was it like being attacked?” Maria asks.
I ignore her.
“I think it’s so romantic that Nikolai came in and saved you.” Maria practically swoons.
Ekaterina rolls her eyes. “Did you see the other man? He was so bloody and beaten, you could barely make out his face. I’m not sure that’s saving.”
“Of course it is. It’s clear what happened. Like you said, Claudia sent someone after Lana to kill her.”
“Claudia did not,” Ana snaps, getting to her feet. “My best friend would never hurt someone like that.”
“She smacked Lana across the face,” Ekaterina says flatly. “I think Claudia was capable of violence.”
“Claudia is in the hospital, recovering from her broken ankle. She was not responsible for this. She wouldn’t waste time on that bitch.
” Ana saunters over and glares down at me.
I calmly gaze back. Now is not the time to crack.
Breaking down into tears would only feed these ballerinas’ hunger.
“I will say though, you had it coming, bitch. First, you make Claudia break her ankle, and then you steal her role.”
“I’m her understudy. This is why we have understudies. In case of accidents.”
Ana scoffs. “In case of accidents? You deliberately hurt Claudia.”
“I didn’t make Claudia break her ankle. She came at me and tripped and fell. She hurt herself.”