Page 26 of The Last Dance

“Is taken care of.”

I tried again. “My friends—”

His eyebrow raised a fraction. “Name one.”

He had me there. My best friend was Carmine, who had once told me he didn’t believe in breakfast as a meal.

I was running out of objections.

He folded his hands on the table. “This is non-negotiable.”

I tried to think of a reason to say no, but all I could come up with was, “I’m not going to be your…kept thing.” The last words hit the table like a pair of dice, and I waited to see if I’d won or lost.

Vadim tilted his head, genuinely curious. “What do you want, then?”

The question took me off guard. I stared at him, then at the bread, then at the window, then back at him. “I want—” My throat went dry, probably from the carbs. “I want to go to school. Like, actual school. I want a degree.”

He waited, as if this was not surprising.

“I have almost enough saved for a year. Tips and—” This was embarrassing, but I powered through. “—a jar under my mattress.”

“What school?” he said.

I told him.

He nodded, as if this was already settled. “Done.”

I was losing track of the conversation. “Wait, what do you mean, done?”

“You will enroll. Lin will submit the paperwork. Tuition will be paid in full, plus books and housing, though you will stay here. You’ll have a driver to campus. And security.”

“Security?” I asked.

“Non-negotiable,” he repeated, softer this time.

I tried to imagine what it would be like, showing up to class with a bodyguard. “People will notice.”

“They won’t,” he said. “Yuri is very discreet.”

The conversation had slipped so far out of my hands I wasn’t sure I’d ever touched it. “You’re just…doing this?”

He looked at me like he was trying to gauge whether I was mocking him, or just dense. “You asked for it.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to say that people didn’t just buy each other educations, or futures, or houses. I wanted to say that this was all insane, and I wasn’t someone who could be bribed.

But the truth was, this was the first time in my life someone had asked me what I wanted, and then just… given it to me. No strings, no threats, no lectures about the value of hard work.

Just…done.

I finished the last of the bread. The butter dish was empty. I was too full, and too jittery, and too aware that everything I’d ever known about power and kindness had just been upended by a man who could have made me disappear with a phone call, but instead made me breakfast.

I stared at him across the table.

He stared back.

I thought: I am in so much trouble.

The world outside was so bright I had to shade my eyes. Or maybe that was just the way it felt to finally be seen.