11. Chapter Eleven #2
My feet don’t make any sound on the rug as I place myself in the center of the room for all the men to look at me. I’m used to being on stage, performing for a crowd. Normally, I love it. It’s exciting and life changing. It’s something I was addicted to.
But now, this doesn’t feel exciting. It does feel life changing however, not in the way I’m used to. This feels like if I do the wrong step at any moment, the tentative alliance between my husband and Cillian could crumble. There’s much more at stake here than just a performance.
“You need music,” Cillian says. “You can’t dance without music.”
“You can,” I correct him. He narrows his eyes and I quickly scramble. “But music does make it better.”
Mikhail nods at one of his men. “I have an album with Tchaikovsky. He composed Swan Lake.”
“Ah. A Russian composer. How fitting for you.”
“You don’t like Russian music?” I ask.
Cillian shrugs. “I much prefer Irish music.”
Mikhail’s man finds the album on vinyl and puts it on. The music swells through the room. It’s music I’ve danced to a hundred times by now.
I look to Mikhail. I want to get this just right. He nods, giving me permission to start.
I let the music wash over me and then I begin to dance.
It’s as natural as breathing for me. To pirouette and arabesque and piqué. I’ve been training all my life to move like this.
I catch a glimpse of the men as I dance. They watch me with wide eyes. I guess none of them knew I was actually this good of a dancer. A swell of pride washes over me when I see Mikhail smile. I’m doing right by him and his men.
Cillian watches me with an impassive expression. I don’t fully understand it. Does he not like what I’m doing? Mikhail needs this evening to go well. I can’t mess it up.
I match the speed of the music, dancing through the postures I know so well.
I worked hard to be the lead in Swan Lake and to give it up because of my father’s death was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
So, to be able to dance for my husband and his men now feels good, even though it’s not as good as performing on a stage.
I spin faster and faster and faster until I end with a curtsey. The men give me a smattering of applause.
“You can do better than that,” Mikhail tells his men, clapping for me. The intensity in the room revs up.
I give a bow and fully stand back up, smiling at the men. “Thank you.”
“What do you think?” Mikhail asks Cillian. “Does my wife’s dancing impress you?”
Cillian shrugs. “I’ve seen better.”
I see the moment Mikhail’s mood changes. His posture becomes more rigid and his smile evaporates.
“You’ve seen better? Natalya is the best dancer I’ve ever seen. You don’t get to come into my house and insult me and my wife.”
Cillian breaks out into a huge belly laugh. The suddenness of it makes me flinch. “I was just joking. I like to mess with people, Mikhail. It’s what I do. Natalya is a beautiful dancer. I want to see more.” He motions at me to continue.
I look to Mikhail, who’s taking a deep breath to compose himself. After a moment, he nods.
I begin to dance again. The dance I did before was already challenging and tiring. I’m out of breath but I’ll push through for Mikhail’s sake.
Cillian watches me with more interest this time around. Either he was truly messing with Mikhail or he meant every word he said. That he doesn’t like my dancing. That he has seen better.
If I don’t impress Cillian, what does that say about Mikhail? That his wife is not good enough.
Growing up, I was taught that my worth was tied to my future husband’s and his worth was tied to mine. That if my husband was an embarrassment, I would be an embarrassment as well.
And the opposite is true.
If Cillian doesn’t like me, that doesn’t bode well for Mikhail. I already messed up when I shot my uncle. The only consolation is that he’s not going around bragging about that fact. I don’t think he wants anyone to know he was shot by a twenty year old woman.
I don’t have my pointe shoes on, making it harder to do the full extensions of the moves but I try my best. I dance harder and faster as Cillian’s expression turns to dismissal.
I finish once more and the men clap again.
“I think that’s enough,” Mikhail says.
“One more,” Cillian says. “And stand on your tip toes. Isn’t that what you ballerinas do?”
“I don’t have my pointe shoes on,” I say. “But I can go get them.”
“No. Stand on your tip toes now. I want to see it.”
“Uh… it’s not really possible without my pointe shoes. I have padding in them to help my feet. It’s incredibly hard to stand on pointe in bare feet.”
Cillian leans forward in his seat, an eager expression in his eye that I don’t like. “I know. That’s why I want to see you do it.”
“I don’t want my wife to get hurt,” Mikhail says.
“She won’t get hurt. She’s a ballerina for goodness sakes.
She can do it.” Cillian tilts his head. “And don’t you want to make a good impression on me, Mikhail?
You were the one who reached out to me to make a deal.
You’re the one who wants this more. If you want to cement our alliance, then your wife will do this for me. ”
“My wife will not do anything for you,” Mikhail warns. “I will not put her in danger. And I’m not some pathetic, desperate boy in need of your help Cillian. I thought working together benefited both of us but if you don’t want to respect my wife, then you can leave.”
Oh no. This isn’t going well. I have to do something.
“I can do it,” I blurt out. “I can stand on my toes.”
“Natalya, no,” Mikhail says.
“It’s fine. I can do it. But then I need a break from dancing. All right?”
Cillian considers it for a moment before he shrugs. “All right.”
“He doesn’t have a say over you,” Mikhail tells me.
“I know. But I want to do right by you. Impressing your guests is the way to do it. I’m fine with doing this. Trust me.”
Mikhail hesitates before he sighs and sits back in his seat. “All right.”
I try to make it as fast as possible. I stand up on the very tip of my toes. It’s torture without my pointe shoes on and the padding within them.
I feel my feet give up and I stumble right to the floor, landing hard on my knees. The room falls quiet.
Then everything is in motion.
Mikhail rushes to my side. “Natalya?”
“I’m fine,” I grit out, even though there’s so much pain running up my legs and ankles and toes.
“You’re not fine. I can see the pain on your face.” He whirls around to face Cillian. “You demanded she do this. Leave.”
“Your wife is fine.” Cillian stands up, smoothing his tie down. “I look forward to working with you more in the future, Mikhail. I had a lovely evening.”
“What makes you think I want to work with you after this?”
I grip Mikhail’s arm, drawing his attention to me. He needs to stop talking before he says something he’ll regret. “Help me up. I need help.”
“Of course.” Mikhail scoops me into his arms like I weigh nothing.
“We’ll still work together,” Cillian says as if Mikhail never spoke at all. “Your wife is a beautiful dancer. I must say.”
“Get out,” Mikhail growls.
“Mikhail, it’s fine,” I say to him. “Cillian, it was nice to meet you. And I know my husband will appreciate your support.”
“Listen to your wife, Mikhail. She knows what she’s talking about.”
Mikhail grits his teeth. I can tell from the way his jaw completely clenches.
Cillian smirks. “We’ll meet up again soon.” He motions for his men to leave and they all follow him out the door.
“Leave,” Mikhail snaps at his own men.
“But Mikhail,” one of them says. “Are you sure you want to work with Cillian after… everything?” He nods at me.
“Aaron, just go. The rest of you, go.”
They listen to their boss and leave me and Mikhail alone. He sets me down on the sofa.
“Let me look at you.” He kneels before me and inspects my legs. It’s a surreal sight, watching my strong husband kneel in front of me. “Are you hurt?”
“I banged my legs onto the floor. They’ll be bruised but I’ve had a lot of bruises in my life. Dance is not gentle on the body. I can handle it. It’s not the first time I’ve fallen.”
“You weren’t supposed to fall. Cillian pushed you until you got hurt. That fucker.”
“Hey.” I cup his cheek and he looks up at me with so much intensity, I almost lose my breath.
“I’m all right. I survived it. I didn’t break any bones.
My feet and ankles and legs are strong. I’m fine.
Don’t let this ruin your working relationship with him.
I want my sisters safe and any way you can do that, do that.
If working with Cillian gets you closer to helping my sisters, then I’ll let him boss me around until the end of time. ”
“No. I won’t allow it. I won’t allow him to come into our home and tell you what to do. You’re not his wife. He doesn’t have any claim to you. He had no right to do that.”
“I agree. But you need him, Mikhail. You need the help right now. You have to worry about Nico on one side and my uncle on the other. You need help.”
“There are other men I can turn to. I don’t need Cillian.”
“Isn’t he the head of the Irish mob? He’s a good ally to have. Don’t give up on him just because of what happened tonight.”
“He made a fool out of you. He purposely made you dance over and over so you were tired. He made you fall.”
“Then he’s no different from the dance instructors I’ve had all my life.
A lot of them were hard on me. I had one teacher who made me dance until my toes bled.
I hated her for it but she strengthened me.
The way Cillian acted is nothing I’m not used to.
The dance world is a brutal place. It’s strict.
You think I grew up in some sheltered castle all my life but I know what it’s like to be pushed.
I think it’s why I can handle what you throw at me. ”
His lips quirk up a little. “You are a lot stronger than I give you credit for. And for that, I’m sorry. I just hated the way Cillian spoke to you. Like he thought he had the right.”
“He was just getting under your skin. Maybe he was trying to test you. See how far you’d go.”
“Then I either impressed him by not killing him right then and there in our living room or I disappointed him because I didn’t try to kill him.”
“You’re a man who takes what he wants. If you want Cillian to respect you, then take it.”
“You’re right.”
“You sound surprised,” I say. “Is it completely unbelievable that I could offer you advice? I have knowledge to, you know.”
“I’m starting to see that. I thought you would be a more docile woman. I like that you’re naturally submissive to me but… I also like that you have your own mind.”
Before I can stop myself, I lean down and press my lips to his. We haven’t kissed all that often despite how much Mikhail has pushed my body. He doesn’t kiss much. Maybe it’s too intimate for him. Maybe it’s too tame. Either way, kissing him now makes me realize just how much more of it I need.
Mikhail grabs the back of my head and pulls me deeper into the kiss. I could sink into his touch forever if I let it happen. I know Mikhail wouldn’t complain.
I still haven’t given him my virginity yet and I’m not sure when. I’m not holding onto it for any special reason. Mikhail and I are already married. I stuck to the promise I made my father: that I would wait for marriage to have sex.
So what’s stopping me?
I pull back, catching my breath.
Mikhail’s smirk makes me blush. “What was that for?”
“For listening to me. I’m not a fragile flower, Mikhail. Not when I’ve trained so hard at ballet.”
“I get that. So, you’ll be all right?” He nods towards my legs.
I cross my feet together at the ankles. “I will be. I promise.”
For some reason, my promise feels deeper than just a promise about my legs. It feels like a promise about our future.
A promise that will bind us together forever.