Chapter 42
SERAFINA
Anastasia takes me on the backstage tour and even introduces me to some of the stagehands, explaining what everyone does.
It’s an entire system to ensure her shows run smoothly, though commenting that gains a few chuckles from both her and the stagehands, who explain issues always come up last-minute.
She takes me on stage and shows me where she’ll enter from, pointing out her mental markers and various lights and ropes hanging above us, hidden from the audience by the curtains, and explaining how they control the curtain mechanisms.
Standing in the centre of the wide stage, I gaze out at the massive auditorium. Besides the odd staff walking around, it’s empty. Even so, shivers course down my back, and I couldn’t imagine being her—the star of the show.
“To think, you’ll be alone up here while it’s packed down there.”
“Sold out,” she chimes a few feet away, spreading her arm over the invisible audience. “It used to be nerve-wracking, but now, it’s second nature. Helps that I’m basically blind up here.” She points to the edge of the stage, where lights point towards her. “Those ensure I hardly see anything.”
She leads me back to where Lev waits by the stage’s side entrance, and then through the halls to her dressing room. Inside, she displays her various outfits: everything from traditional white tutus to coloured bodysuits draped with chiffon and jewels.
“Which one are you wearing tonight?”
“You’ll have to wait and see with everyone else. Speaking of”—she glances at the clock on the wall—“people will be arriving soon. You guys can slip through one of the side doors and get to your seats that way.” She glances at Lev. “Remember the route?”
“It may have been a while, but my memory is good. You should know that by now,” he drawls, hands in his pockets.
“Sure, but messing with you is fun.”
Lev offers me his arm and leads me away with a final wave towards Anastasia.
“There’s so much that goes on back here,” I comment as he walks me back the way we came, passing the stage entrance to stop by a different door up ahead marked Exit.
He tugs me to a stop, glances around to ensure we’re alone, and then backs me into the wall. When he kisses me, it feels different than usual. His tongue sweeps my mouth, and his fingers link with mine, but it’s not that at all. It’s…more.
It’s a forbidden emotion I’m unsure if I can or should admit aloud, even to myself. It’ll drive him away, I’m almost sure of it, in his honour to do what’s right.
So, while I remain silent, I show him in my touch, silently pleading for him to never let me go. To keep me. My mouth opens beneath his—as does the rest of me. He can have it all: heart, mind, body, soul.
He pulls back, dropping his forehead to mine, breathing ragged. “We should get to our seats before I’m tempted to keep you back here and we miss the entire thing.”
His hand remains low on my bare back as he leads me through the door into the auditorium, faced with the thousands of seats I recently saw from the stage. To our right are stairs leading up to the stage, others towards the upper balconies.
“This way.” His low voice rolls over my bare shoulder as he leads me to the front row, to the seats closest to the aisle. He takes the outermost one, me the other. “We have about a half-hour until the show starts.”
For twenty of those thirty minutes, I’m enthralled by observing other guests claim their seats. No one’s arrived in our row yet, but there are a few on the opposite side of the aisle. Idle chatter fills in a quiet hum, though I wonder how quiet it is for him.
“It’s amazing how many people are here for Ana.”
“She sells out almost immediately.”
“Does she perform often?”
“Often enough, but not as much as in the past.”
“Any reason?”
“Our father. As you know, he wasn’t kind to us, and he took Ana’s passion for dancing and nearly destroyed her. Would have, had she not been so resilient.”
Pride fills his voice. It’s the first compliment I’ve heard him give her. “It’s good she found reasons to dance without him around.”
As more people settle around us, Lev is growing stiffer. His hand has the armrest in a tight grip, and his shoulders are nearly up to his ears. His jaw is all hard lines and deadly anger that makes me want to touch him, to soothe him. His gaze burns into the curtain hiding the stage.
While Anastasia is still backstage, I take the risk and rest my hand over his. “Breathe. You’re okay.”
He obeys, inhaling deeply until his shoulders lower. “There are so many people around.”
“If I didn’t know you as well as I do, the annoying voice in my head would remind me my interests are bringing you down.
Knowing you’re not thinking like that, I’ll simply say thank you.
Thank you for bringing me tonight, even when it’s not easy.
Most of what you’ve done for me hasn’t been easy, and I appreciate every instance. ”
In a quick flash, Lev moves his hand out from beneath mine, flips it, and slips it back into my palm, our fingers winding together. “Don’t thank me, because I’m here for selfish reasons.”
“Which are?”
His stare off with the curtain finally ends as he faces me.
“Because it makes you smile, and when you smile, everything feels better. I’ll do anything to ensure you do it over and over.
My reasons are for me, simply to see this.
” As if we’re not surrounded by hundreds, he strokes his thumb along the corner of my mouth—my smile.
While my brain scrambles with something intelligent to say, lights dim, and the curtain lifts. A soft tune begins, and, immediately swept away, I nearly miss Lev untangling his hand from mine with a regretful grimace.
Anastasia appears, her attention going straight for us in the front row. She claimed she can’t see us due to the lights, but I understand Lev wanting to be cautious.
She begins with a bow at centre stage, taking in the packed stadium.
Lights catch on glitter sprinkled over her skin, complimenting her ivory dress.
The bodice is tight, dipping between her breasts, and a sheer covering tells me the cut-out is for appearance alone without taking away from practicality.
The skirt, adorned with gems to match the glitter on her chest, flares into a full tulle skirt that falls midway down her shins.
Her feet are encased in curved pink ballet slippers, the ribbon wrapped halfway up her calf, while her hair is pulled out of her face in a tight bun.
Her first movements are a series of spins, taking her from one side of the stage to the other in time with the music, then the opposite, before returning to the centre.
Her body tells a story of heartache and pain, the music both tormenting and uplifting, reminding me of a romantic tragedy. She twirls and jumps, and, eventually, back-up dancers spin around her, but she still manages to capture so much of the room’s attention.
It’s a while later—so long, I wonder how she’s not dead yet—before she stops in the centre of the stage and bows deeply to a chorus of claps to conclude the first act of the performance.
Her pants become more obvious from this short distance when she straightens, remaining that way until the curtain falls to signal the start of intermission.
Lev helps me to my feet, ushering me up the aisle with everyone else. He tucks my arm into his, keeping me close until we arrive in the main foyer. People break off into little groups, some heading out for smoke breaks.
“I need the bathroom,” I whisper, eyeing the female’s washroom across the space.
He walks me there, gesturing to a nearby wall. “I’ll wait here.”
The washroom is fancier than any I’ve ever been in. A large, cushioned bench consumes the centre, and each sink is accompanied by a counter, another chair attached. A few women occupy those, touching up their makeup.
Once finished, I spot Lev exactly where he said he’d be. His head is bent low, focused on his phone while ignoring the hum of conversation. He doesn’t seem tense, but he’s probably hiding it, so the sooner we can return to our seats, the better for him.
My next step is blocked by a hand cuffing my arm, yanking me backwards against a person’s chest. Another hand snakes my front to rest against my stomach, and my mouth parts to scream, gaze lasered on Lev, begging him to look up.
Before any sound leaves my throat, a deep voice, one from my nightmares, interrupts.
It’s an unwelcome slither against my neck, making my blood spike with the instinct to fight.
“Stay silent unless you want a lot of people to die.”
Alessio.
“See the man lingering beside your boyfriend?”
On one side of Lev, there’s a group of five guests talking, but to his other, a man in a suit waits, his back against the wall, eyes on us. One hand is in his pocket, the other loose by his side.
“Mhm,” I murmur, my throat tight. Sweat drips from my forehead with the realization such a wonderful night is about to take a nasty turn.
“If you don’t want Lev Petrov’s death on your conscience, stay silent and follow me. Do not cause a scene.”
Keeping one hand on my hip, he angles us the opposite way, passing a handful of people who don’t look twice. Which, of course they wouldn’t. With me in my dress and Alessio in a tux, we blend.
Right before he yanks me out of Lev’s line of sight, I glance behind me, willing every cell of my brain to reach his.
Look up, see me! If only I could shout it, but Alessio’s here for a reason.
If he meant to kill me, I’d be dead already, which means he wants something. It’s up to me to learn what that is.
We reach a door marked Storage, and he shoves me inside. My shoe catches on my dress, and I trip, landing against a stack of boxes labelled Floor Cleaner. Metal shelves reminding me of Lev’s server racks line both walls, organized with cleaning supplies. The strong scent of bleach tickles my nose.