Page 8 of Violent Pawn

She runs across the stage doing this jump that makes me realize how little I know about ballet. Anastasia makes it seem effortless, but I doubt it is. After her next spin, she pauses to scan the crowd, and I’d like to believe she’s searching for me.

When her performance ends, the crowd gives her a standing ovation. She smiles through it and waves for a couple of moments before running offstage…safe.

Safe, because I don’t follow.

5

ANASTASIA

Typically, I appreciate the stage lights because they hide the crowd, but this time, I hate them. Hate them because I can’t scan the auditorium to look for him. It’d be a fruitless search even if I could, as the hundreds and hundreds of faces would blur, most from the distance. That isn’t even counting that his seat could be up on one of the balconies.

When the lights dim and the curtains lower, I straighten from my bow, wave a few seconds, keeping the same calm smile I’ve plastered on the entire performance, and dart off stage.

Exuding serenity was my goal, but my insides are a damn mess. The farther I ran from those men, only to return to the stage a moment before intermission ended, the more it all hit me.

Strangers were trying to kidnap me, and who knows what would have happened then.

Were they overeager fans or something more nefarious?

The first one—my stranger whose name I never ended up learning—seemed to be working with the others, but he let me go. So I don’t really know how to take him.

Instead of heading into the service hall, I turn for the other one that’ll take me to where many of the VIP ticketed guests pay to visit the performer. My father will be there, and though I despise going to him for help, the reality is men were trying to kidnap me. Some parental instinct should be triggered. At the very least, he’d lose one of his weapons if I were taken, so that should count for something.

With Papa, my hellscape is familiar. With strangers, the unknown is hell.

A small group is gathered around my father, Jakob included. Of course, Papa would be keeping him nearby, expecting me to arrive where he can schmooze me off to him, and then Jakob would invite me back to his room to “discuss my performance.”

Sadly, this isn’t my first rodeo.

This time, there are bigger concerns than a businessman Ursin and Papa want taken out.

Striding up to his side, I lean into his arm and hiss, “We need to talk.”

He barely spares me a glance before ushering me a step forward into the circle of people murmuring about my appearance. “Anastasia, don’t be rude. These lovely people are here to meet you.”

I nod my greeting without looking at any of them, much to the tic of Papa’s jaw. “Nice to meet you all, but if you’ll excuse us, I really need to talk to my papa.” Without giving him an opportunity to ignore me again, I loop my arm around his and, for once, claim control by hauling him backwards. “It’s important.”

He growls, his hard tone reminding me of all the horrible things he could do to me if he doesn’t find my reason worthy enough. “For your sake, it better be.” He shoves me out the door and into the quiet hallway. “This better be fucking good. It is imperative that Jakob not leave without you. Remember your place.”

“Yeah, well, my place is here rather than Italy.”

He blinks, jerking upright. “What did you say?”

“During intermission, I was nearly kidnapped by this duo of Italians who snuck into the back. I bolted back to the stage, and they didn’t follow.” I skip the third stranger’s presence, feeling the need to protect him for some reason.

There’s never ever been an instance of Papa revealing an ounce of fear, but I think what covers his expression is the closest I’ll ever get to witnessing it. His face pales as his gaze flits down the hallway on either side of us before snatching my hand and dragging me away.

“Come. We must return home right away.”

Uh… “But my clothes…” Thankfully, my cell is in our vehicle outside.

“You have a room full at home. You’ll survive. We shouldn’t risk returning to your dressing room.”

“Because they might be there?” I jog to catch up to him even as he drags me, though my pointe shoes are not meant for this. I cling to the hope that Papa will tell me the truth for once, while nearly thankful for the Italians. Without their presence, I’d be forced to seduce Jakob.

“Da. Ursin must be notified.”

“Who are they?”