“I don’t have a cook either and I manage.”
“Yeah, by mooching off my dad,” she fires back. “Come on, Pietro. I bet you’ve never cooked yourself a meal involving more than baked beans on toast in your life. Admit it.”
Damn it, she is right.
“You need to eat properly or you’re going to wear yourself into the ground,” I say, diverting the conversation back to her.
“See, I’m right, aren’t I?” she says, her voice smug. “Okay, I’ll look into some more fulfilling alternatives. Will that get you off my back?”
“For now.” I smile, and settle back into my seat. “So, how are you liking it over there? Worth giving up your whole life for?” I tease.
“New York, I could take or leave, but the ballet is amazing.” I can hear in her voice how much this means to her. “God, I can’t describe how it feels to dance across those floors knowing how many amazing ballerinas have done the same before. But…” She pauses. “I’m worried if I fall in love too much it will all be taken away. I’m not in yet, and I don’t want to get my hopes up, just in case.”
“Be confident in your abilities, Luce. Believe that you can do it. I do.”
“I have no idea why you have so much faith in me, but thank you.”
“Anytime. And if you ever need to just talk, call me. Or text. I’m quite enjoying our little text sessions,” I say, grinning to myself.
“Me too,” she admits. “I better go. I’m so boring these days. It’s barely nine and I’m ready for bed.”
“What do you mean these days?” I tease.
“Hey,” she replies, laughing. “I take offense to that.”
“Night, Luce. Sleep well.”
“Night.”
No sooner than I’ve placed my phone down, I’m on my laptop checking my email. A reply from Lucca is waiting for me. Taking a deep breath, I click on it.
I’ll see what I can find out. Please keep this confidential, Pietro. You’re asking me to look into what we both know was a Mafia hit. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that if this got out, things wouldn’t look too good for either of us.
I’ll be in touch, and I’ve also attached my bank details for payment.
Lucca
Pushing aside my computer, I get up and pace the room. Why the fuck didn’t I think of this earlier? Because I was sure nobody would be interested in helping me find out the truth. Excitement surges through me and I shiver. I’m confused, because I don’t know what to feel. On one hand, I’m treading in dangerous waters and one wrong move and everything will be over. I know these people don’t mess around. If they realize I’m sniffing for answers, they won’t hesitate to take me down. But God, I’ve waited all my life for this and I refuse to give up now.
I’m so fucking close I can taste it.
Chapter 10
Lucy
I throw my bag on the floor, strip off my clothes, and walk into the bathroom. My days are so long and strenuous that all I ever want to do when I get home is relax. I turn on the shower and wait until the stream of water is steaming hot before I step in.
Sighing, I close my eyes and tilt my head back as the water runs down over my forehead. This isn’t what I thought it would be like. I don’t know what I expected, but to be told I need to go through this intense training and that only a few of us would get through is disheartening.
“You will get in, Luce. You know you can do this,” I mutter. My little pep talk actually works. I’m already feeling better.
Dancing is my life. I’ve never wanted anything else, and I’m not going to rest until I’m on that stage, dancing my little heart out in front of thousands of people.
I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around myself. Walking into the kitchen I take a frozen meal out of the freezer and throw it in the microwave, trying not to think of what Pietro would say if he could see me now. Tomorrow I’ll look into having some decent food delivered, but for tonight, it’s me and cannelloni for one. While I’m waiting, I pick up my phone and text Bell.
Me: Are you around to talk? X
I get no response from Bell, which is pretty usual these days. I’m glad things are going so well for her and Ryan, but I miss my friend.
I take my piping-hot meal out of the microwave and transfer it into a plate, nearly scalding myself in the process. I pour myself some apple juice, take my dinner over to the living room, and make myself comfortable on the sofa. I turn on the TV, not really watching. I’m more focused on wishing Bell would get back to me. My phone buzzes, making me jump. I mop up the apple juice that spilled down my top with my hand and reach for the phone.
Bell: Sorry lovely, I’m out with Ryan. Can I call you tomorrow? X
Me: Sure. It’s not important. Have a good night. Miss you. X
Maybe I do need to make an effort to make more friends. I can’t deny how lonely I feel. Maybe what I need to do is take out an ad on Craigslist advertising for some friends. No. On second thought, maybe not. I’d probably end up buried in some guy’s backyard.
After dinner, I reluctantly answer a call from my father on my other phone. He’s the last person I feel like talking to. I’ve managed to avoid his calls for the last few days, but if I don’t answer now he’ll probably be on my doorstep tomorrow.
“How’s my little girl settling in?” he asks. I’m surprised by how warm and relaxed he sounds, and it instantly makes me suspicious.
“I’m good,” I say. “You sound happy.”
“I’m speaking to my daughter. How could I not be happy?” he asks with a chuckle. “So tell me, is this school living up to your expectations?”
“It’s not a school, Dad,” I say, rolling my eyes. “It’s one of the best companies in the world.”
“One of, or the best?” he asks.
“Well, second to Paris Opera Ballet, it’s the best,” I retort, confused by his questions. “What does it matter if I’m happy? Or were you hoping I was ready to throw it all in and come crying back?”
“You’re a Spontagio,” he replies, his voice gruff. “If you quit, I’d disown you. No, Lucia, I know you’re happiest when you dance. I just worry about you being so far away. You can understand that, can’t you?”
“Of course I can,” I say quietly, feeling bad for having a go at him. “I’ll come back and see you as soon as I can. I promise. Listen, Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks for trusting me enough to let me do this. It means a lot that I have you behind me.” I force the words out. I don’t let him know often enough how much he means to me. Sure, he can be the world’s biggest pain and constantly smother me with attention, but I know he means well and I love him for it.
“I’m just happy that you’re happy.”
After speaking with my father, I call Pietro. I’m worried about how different my father sounded. I’m not used to him being so supportive. I laugh and shake my head at how stupid that sounds.
“Hey,” Pietro says, answering on the first ring. “I was just going to text you.”
“Well, I saved you the trouble.” I grin. “Dad just called me. He sounded weird.”
“In what way?”
“I don’t know—happy?” It’s the best word I can think to describe it. Pietro chuckles. “I know, I know. But you know what he’s like. Happy and bubbly doesn’t suit him.”
“Maybe he has himself a girlfriend?” he suggests, and I gag.
“What?” He laughs. “He’s a man, probably one with needs.”
“Please for the love of God stop talking about my father’s needs.” I groan, covering my face with my hand. “Forget I said anything. Ugh.”
He laughs again. “You’re so easy to wind up, Luce. I love that about you.”
“Yeah, well, stop it already or you’re going to give me nightmares,” I joke.
We keep talking as I ready myself for bed. He tells me about his days—which he mostly spends writing, and I tell him all about mine. It’s close to midnight when I realize we’ve
been talking for hours.
“I didn’t mean to take up your entire night,” I apologize, suddenly feeling shy.
“Honestly, I didn’t even realize how late it was,” he replies. “You better get some sleep. No doubt you have to be up at some ridiculous hour.”
“Five.” I laugh. “It’s not so bad. I get to see the sunrise.”
“Lucky you,” he grumbles. “Night, Luce. Sleep well.”
“Night.” I grin as I end the call and place the phone on my night table.
Rolling over onto my stomach, a twinge of sadness hits me. I hate being so far away from everything. I thought I’d relish the freedom of being here, but I miss the constant interaction I had back home. Something Pietro said to me earlier floats into my mind. If you’re feeling homesick, focus on the things you love about New York.
Smiling, I close my eyes. The thing I love most about New York right now is my nightly talks with him.
—
I arrive at the studio half an hour early the next morning to get in some extra practice. I stand in front of the mirror and work on my pirouettes until they are perfect.
As class begins, students filter into the room, most huddled together in their little cliques, giggling and whispering as they walk. I look around for Ana, who isn’t here yet. A group of three girls glance over at me and start whispering. I stare straight ahead, ignoring their laughter as I try to focus on myself. I know I’m not here to make friends, but these girls are getting on my nerves. Just at that moment, Ana waltzes in, her long auburn hair rolled perfectly into a bun. She spots me and waves.
“Have you noticed how many bitches are in here?” she whispers to me, and I laugh. It’s like she’s reading my mind. The bitches giggle and whisper again. Ana rolls her eyes.
“Seriously though, I wish they’d get a life.” She groans. “I’m so glad you’re normal.”
“Well, I don’t know about normal.” I laugh, nudging her side.
“Okay guys, listen up.”
Marcus claps his hands, motioning for us to listen. We all gather around him, waiting to hear what hell he is planning to unleash on us today.
“We’re now entering our fourth week of this eight-week intensive training schedule. By the end of this week, we will be letting half of you go.”
His words slam through me. All I can think is my dream could be over by the end of this week.
“The key to succeeding here is to not hold back. Put everything into the next five days, and show us why we would be crazy to let you go.”
The rest of the day drags on as the instructors put us through our paces. I have no idea if I’m in the top or bottom half of the class. I know I’m good, but so is everyone else here. The saving grace of the day is hearing the news that tomorrow we don’t start until midday.
“Come on,” Ana says after our session finishes. She takes my hand and drags me to the door. “I need a caffeine fix.”
Even though I don’t drink coffee, I agree. We walk down the street to a small café. Ana orders while I choose a little table near the front window. It’s a cute little shop with a nice vibe.
“God, I’m exhausted.” Ana moans, falling into the seat opposite me. “Is it just me or are they riding us really fucking hard?”
“It’s not just you. I practically fall into bed every night. Thank God tomorrow is a twelve o’clock start.” I’ve never been so thankful for a board meeting in my life, or that our instructors were on the board.
“We need to do something tonight,” Ana says, her tone decisive. “We’re going out. You and me. I will not be taking no for an answer.”
“I can barely move,” I protest. The waitress arrives with a tray and places a cup in front of Ana, and one in front of me that looks suspiciously like coffee. I raise my eyebrows at Ana. “I told you I didn’t want anything. I don’t do coffee.”
“Which is why you’re always tired. Besides, it’s a decaf mocha,” she says, waving her hand. “What’s it gonna hurt?” Rolling my eyes, I lift the cup to my mouth and take a sip. The sweet hit of chocolate masks the slightly overpowering taste of the coffee blend. I don’t hate it.
“You sure this is decaf?” I ask her, narrowing my eyes. She smiles innocently at me. I’m convinced it’s coffee, but I drink it anyway, because if she’s going to make me go out with her, I’m going to need all the energy I can get.
“Okay, this is my new favorite café. We will be coming back here.” She giggles, nodding toward the counter. I turn around and smile. A hot guy stands at the register. His tight shirt clings to his muscles, showing off his athletic frame. The line to be served by him almost reaches the door and is made up completely of women waiting to get their fill of that sexy smile.
“Uh-huh.” I laugh.
“Come on. He’s gorgeous. Or do you have a boyfriend?”
I blush. “Not really. There’s a guy I like, but it’s complicated.”
“Well, uncomplicate it.” She shrugs. If only it were that simple. “Don’t let stupid little shit hold you back. You’ll regret it. Trust me.”
The conversation moves back to us going out. I groan, realizing there is no way I’m getting out of this. After ten minutes of listening to her whining I finally agree. We arrange to meet outside a bar at eight.
I have enough time to shower and change, but I’m running late because I can’t decide what to wear. I decide on a short black skirt and a blue tank top, finishing off the look with my leather jacket. Despite my reluctance to go, I’m actually looking forward to getting out of the apartment. I feel like all I’ve done since arriving is train, eat, and sleep. I should be embracing my freedom while I have it.
Ana is waiting for me when I round the corner. She spots me and her face breaks into a smile. Running up to me, she hugs me as though we haven’t seen each other in years. I laugh at her enthusiasm. She and Bella would love—or hate—each other so much, they’re so alike.
“Aren’t you excited?” she squeals, taking my hand. “I’ve been dying to go out, but being in a new place and not knowing anyone sucks.”
“Let’s do this.” I grin. I have no idea where we are going. Ana leads me down the sidewalk, chattering nonstop as we walk. With every passing day, I’m feeling more comfortable in my surroundings. New York is a big shock to my system. I wouldn’t call Chicago a small town, but in comparison it has nothing on this place.
“So, this place is supposed to be where all the celebs hang out,” she gushes, pushing me into the line. I giggle and scan the crowd of people waiting to get in, the line continuing for at least a few hundred yards.
“We’re going to be waiting here all night,” I say.
“But it’ll be worth it. I saw a picture on Instagram last week of Orlando Bloom in this place. Can you imagine?” She squeals again.
I laugh, not wanting to admit I’d be more impressed running into Michael Bublé.
After forty-five minutes in line, we’re finally let inside. Walking in, I have to admit, I’m impressed. This place is pure class. Black, silver, and white is everywhere, and you can tell just by looking at the furnishings that they cost an arm and a leg. We make our way over to the bar to order our drinks.
“What are you having?” Ana asks, pulling out a black credit card.
“I’ll have a lime and soda.”
“No fucking way, Lucy. We have tomorrow morning off, we’re going to drink, dammit.”
“Fine. But only one,” I warn, upping my order to a vodka, lime, and soda. She nods, content for the moment, but I can tell I’m going to be fighting her on the next drink too.
We take our drinks over to the edge of the dance floor and find ourselves a table. Even though it’s early, the place is packed. I laugh as Ana’s gaze goes from table to table, her eyes narrowed in concentration. I can just tell she’s celebrity hunting.
“Well, well, look who it is.”
I look up and recognize the owner of the voice as one of the guys in our training group. Jacob, I think his name is. Th
e other guy I haven’t met, but he smiles at me in such a friendly manner that I can’t help but smile back.
“Hey, great minds, huh?” Ana exclaims. She points at the two empty chairs. “Join us if you like.”
“Sure,” Jacob says. They sit down. He introduces his friend as Dallas. Right away, I’m sure his friend is gay, judging by the way he keeps checking out the same guys Ana is. Jacob, I’m not too sure about.
We order more drinks, and Ana convinces me into ordering another vodka, which I know I’m going to regret. After my second, it becomes easier to say yes, and pretty soon I’ve lost count of how many I’ve had.
Kicking back my chair, I sway as I stand. Jacob laughs, and stands to catch me.
“Let’s dance.” I grin, dragging him onto the dance floor while Ana cheers her approval. She and Dallas also get up to join us in the middle of the room.
“I gotta admit, this is fun.” I laugh, twirling my arms around over my head. Jacob’s hands close around my waist as I grind my body against his. The guy has moves.
We dance the next few songs, until the alcohol begins to wear off and I feel sick. I know I’m going to pay for this tomorrow.
“I think I’m done,” I say. I give Ana a hug. “Thanks for making me do this.”
“Oh, we’ll be doing it again.” She laughs, slapping me on the ass.
Chapter 11
Pietro
It’s two a.m. and she just got home. I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m annoyed that she’d stay out so late when she has to be up so damn early. Who am I kidding? I’m annoyed she went out at all. I try to rein in my jealousy, but I can’t focus on anything but her and how I wish it were me she was out with.
I got the shock of my fucking life when she walked into my coffee shop today. Thank God she didn’t see me, or I’d have a lot of explaining to do. I spent nearly an hour hiding out in the bathroom until she was gone. When I finally came back out, Stefanni had thought I’d left and forgotten to pay, so she’d covered my bill for me. I played along and made it sound like I’d come back for that reason.
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