Chapter 39
Mila
“Girl, your wig isn’t straight,” Rachel walks over to me and helps me with my faux hair. “And your eyelash is falling off. Jesus, honey, you’re a hot mess today.”
“Falsies are the worst,” Amanda says as she attempts to apply hers in the locker room mirror.
It’s a fight day. A big fight day. Apparently, something is going down between Rafe and Dominic, and they’ve decided to duke it out in the ring. That means there’s a full house tonight, and we are dancing between their rounds.
Normally, I’d be excited. Dominic up there, testosterone surging through his veins, sweat glistening on his brow and chest. All his adrenaline fuels the fight against his nemesis.
Unfortunately, right now I just feel like I am going to puke.
It’s been two days since I tried to get him to open up about whatever is bothering him.
He hasn’t said a word about it. In fact, he hasn’t even given me a small hint as to why he’s in such a shitty mood.
I’m pretty sure it has something to do with me; even if he is pretending it’s about Rafe Shaeffer.
“Rachel is right,” Brynn says as she adds another layer of lipstick. “You seem a bit off tonight. Need me to take over the lead?”
“You don’t know ballet,” Amanda says. The look Brynn shoots her could incinerate her on the spot, sequins, fake hair and all. Fake hair is flammable.
“I’m fine,” I insist, checking myself in the mirror again. But even after fixing my hair and my lashes, my face screams distress. It’s obvious I’m unwell.
“Are you sure you’re feeling all right?” Amanda asks. “You know you can talk to us.”
Amanda is a funny one. She’s a sheep in wolf’s clothing. Her undying loyalty to Brynn is blatant. Although it’s probably because she’s afraid of her and scared to cross her. I wish she were genuine, but I don’t think she is.
I let out a sigh. Whether or not these girls are actually my friends, I am having a hard time holding things in anymore. “Can you girls keep a secret?” I ask, and they swarm around me.
“Of course.”
“Absolutely.”
“Our lips are sealed.”
Trustworthy or not, I’m about to pop.
“It’s just…Dom and I have been fighting,” I start in.
“Oh no,” Amanda says.
“I was wondering,” Rachel adds.
“About what?” Brynn asks.
“That’s the wild part. I don’t even know. Things have been so good. Romantic and hot and fun, and real. We’ve been talking about the wedding and opening Pointe. It’s been so good,” I go on.
“I still can’t believe you’re opening a studio. I’d love to be an instructor. I used to teach jazz to little girls, you know,” Amanda says, but Brynn snaps at her.
“Hush, Mandy. This isn’t about you.”
“So what changed?” Brynn asks me.
“I don’t even know. He’s being cold. Closed off. Like he knows something and doesn’t want to talk about it,” I answer.
“Is there anything you’ve been hiding from him?” Rachel asks. The tone of her question makes me wonder if she’s been talking to Brynn. Brynn seems to know everything. More than Lainey even. God, I miss Lainey.
I bite my lip. “Nothing that I don’t plan on telling him soon,” I say. It’s not an answer, but it’s not a lie either.
“So he still doesn’t know you’re pregnant?” Brynn asks flat out, and all the girls gasp.
“You’re pregnant?” Rachel says, her eyes wild with the thrill of gossip.
“Oh, my god!” Amanda says with a gaping smile.
I look at Brynn, who just kind of half-smirks. “Yes,” I admit. “But no one else knows.”
“When were you planning on telling him?” Rachel asks.
“Why are you hiding it?” Amanda asks. “Oh my god, were you going to surprise him?!”
I sit down on the locker room bench, suddenly not feeling so well. “I was planning on it. I just…couldn’t figure out the right time.”
“I would say the right time is before he finds out on his own,” Rachel says. I nod.
She’s right. They all are. Dom deserves to know. Even if it means adding gasoline to an already out-of-control fire.
Before the fight starts, the girls and I open the evening with an intro dance to get the room amped up. We don’t usually dance at the beginning, but the entire evening is hinged on Rafe and Dom’s fight. The more heated the room is, the more intense the fight will be.
I put all of my energy into the dance. Luckily, it’s always been something that grounds me; it’s an outlet for stress. But I still felt like I was going to throw up the entire time.
After we walk off the stage, I head towards the men’s locker room. Rafe is at the bar, so I don’t have to worry about running into him. I know Dom is in the locker room, so I walk inside, finding him alone in front of the mirror.
“Mila, what the hell are you–”
“Dominic,” I cut him off. “I need to talk to you.”
“Not now,” he says. “I have to get ready for the match.”
“It’s important,” I insist. I stand in front of him; he attempts to go around me, but I grab him by the wrist in a desperate plea. “Dominic. Please.”
“Are you pregnant?” he demands, and it’s like a punch to the face.
“What?” I ask.
“Are you fucking pregnant?” he booms.
“I…I was going to tell you,” I say.
“How far along are you?” he snaps, hovering over me like a brick wall.
“It would have happened that night in your car.”
“Jesus,” he rasps, raking his hand through his hair as he turns away for a moment. Then he comes back to me.
“I was going to tell you,” I repeat.
“Yeah?” he snaps. “When? When we got married? When you got your money and were far away enough that you could demand child support with no visitation?”
“I would never do that,” I tell him.
“But you would keep my child from me,” he says. Despite the anger flooding over me, I can hear the hurt in his voice.
“Dominic, I was going to tell you,” I say for the third time. “I just didn’t know when or how.”
The announcer’s voice booms over the speakers, followed by a roar from the room of men all ready to bet on Rafe and Dominic. Dom’s eyes rise over me and his shoulders square. Then he looks back down at me.
“Well if this was your idea of the right time, you were gravely mistaken,” he says before stalking out of the locker room.
My chin quivers as I try to hold it together.
It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. None of it was.
I press myself against the wall, needing a minute, and cover my face with my hands gently.
I don’t want to mess up my makeup or my hair.
I’m tempted to just tell the girls I can’t finish the routines tonight.
I’m sure Brynn would love to take the lead back anyways.
I take a deep breath and shake out my hands in an attempt to gather myself. But just before I head to leave, the door swings open. I dart into one of the stalls and close the door. I hear Rafe and his friend talking. I step up on the toilet so they don’t know I am here.
“So let me get this straight,” his friend says. “Mila told Brynn she’s pregnant and the entire relationship with Dom is a sham all so he can get his inheritance and outbid you?”
“Yep,” he says, and my heart drops to the floor.
“And you told Enzo Wolfe…” he muses.
“I mean, I figured the man oughta know,” Rafe answers. “His son is lying to him after all.”
His friend chuckles. “So you’ve really turned things upside down. And now, as long as you kick his ass in the ring today, the deal with Golden Rule is yours too.”
“Oh believe me, I've got that in the bag,” Rafe says.
“You sure? I mean, I don’t doubt you can beat him. But that man is running on rage right now. His life is falling apart thanks to you.”
“Trust me…he doesn’t stand a chance,” he says, and I narrow my eyes in curiosity.
Rafe may be cocky, but to just assume Dom can’t win is a stretch.
I quietly step off the toilet and peek out of the crack in the stall door.
I can see Rafe slipping something onto his hand and his friend nodding, both of them grinning.
At first, I can’t make out what it is. But then the light catches it, and I realize exactly what it is.
Brass knuckles.
I clap my hand over my mouth and take a step back again. They continue to talk, something about how he is going to end Dom once and for all. Then there is the sound of tape covering his hand and the weapon.
A moment later, they make their way out, and the room fell silent. And suddenly nothing else matters. Not the fight, not his anger, not the dance. Nothing but warning Dominic not to go in that ring.