Page 50 of Claim Me (Dmitriyev Bratva #2)

Once inside, I headed to a private box, my hefty donation to the charity who’d benefit from the concert the reason. While I felt too far away from the stage and from her, at least I had a decent vantage point of the entire auditorium.

The three soldiers filtered in behind us. They’d watch the door, preventing any sneak attacks.

We settled in and within two minutes, the lights dimmed to barely a glow crossing the stage. While I usually enjoyed the darkness, shadows providing comfort after a long day or a difficult week, not tonight.

Tonight they wreaked havoc on my imagination.

I remained on the edge of my seat, my hand positioned on my leg only inches from my weapon. After checking my phone for the fourth time to make certain there weren’t any issues, Mikhail nudged my arm.

“Relax.”

“Not possible,” I admitted. At this point, I wasn’t certain when I’d be able to relax around her. She had a way of creating a world that didn’t exist, a beautiful fantasy that could easily be destroyed by the poison of reality.

For tonight, I’d do my best to provide her with what she needed and not what the protector should demand.

This would be a long performance, her solo midway through. After two rousing performances, I finally sat back, my concentration still shit.

Another four and the collar of my tuxedo shirt was way too fucking tight. I yanked at the tie, coming close to ripping it off entirely.

Activity near the stage drew my attention and I stood, immediately heading to the railing with my hands gripping the metal bar as if prepared to launch myself off the balcony.

“Relax, brother. Everything is under control,” Alexsey said as he moved beside me.

“I don’t know about that.” The disturbance was an unruly patron who was quickly escorted out.

The brief interlude was quickly reversed, the entire symphony taking the stage with Marissa as the pianist. I remained where I was, allowing myself to enjoy the moment.

It was another Rachmaninoff piece, which she played beautifully.

The rousing applause was followed by people rising to their feet.

“Come sit down. Her solo performance is next.” My brother was insistent, but I remained hesitant. “You both need this, Kaz. You know why.”

Yeah, I knew why. Because ghosts continued to linger in the shadows.

Reluctantly, I sat, remaining on the edge of my seat as the stage went dark.

As the lights rose, a shimmer of blue highlighting the grand piano, I allowed myself to be mesmerized by the moment.

“For someone I care about deeply.” Her voice was unexpected, cutting through the silence in a way that penetrated every dark void.

Including in my heart.

She was even more stunning from afar, majestic as she slowly placed her fingers on the keys. There was no other sound, no musicians accompanying her and within three seconds, I recognized the piece. The one she’d written two days before.

Yes, she’d tinkered on the piano in the suite we’d rented, but for maybe thirty minutes. To hear the powerful notes, the deep bass, and the way her fingers flew across the keyboard kept me in awe. She was more than just a virtuoso. She was a powerhouse of music.

Remaining stunned, I could tell I was holding my breath.

Not realizing I’d already risen to my feet once again, I somehow found my way to the railing.

There wasn’t a single sound in the auditorium.

Not a cough. Not the chirp of a phone some asshole hadn’t silenced.

Just the most beautiful music I’d ever heard.

A song she’d written for me.

Her body swayed, the woman pouring her heart into every note. I stopped being prone to any emotion the night tragedy had struck ten years before. Since then, I’d been a shell of myself, going about the motions with a smile on my face and laughter replacing anger.

Now, every fucking raw emotion hit me hard, a sledgehammer smashing against the thick slab of concrete. With every movement, she brought the piece to life, to the point my heart thudded to the same beat.

Almost as soon as it began, it was over. There was stunned silence for a full twenty seconds before the crowd jumped to their feet, cheering and clapping, their astonishment as significant as mine.

When she finally rose from the piano stool, she lifted her head toward the private boxes, even shielding her eyes. How long had it been since anyone had touched me so intensely?

“Wow,” Alexsey said as both he and Mikhail joined me at the railing. “You were right. She is… magnificent.”

“Yes, she is.”

As the crowd continued to cheer, roses were brought to her from the side of the stage. Instantly, my pulse increased.

“I thought you said you didn’t get her flowers,” Mikhail commented, his edge as sharp as mine.

“I didn’t.” I turned toward him and we both stood taller than before.

“Well, fuck,” he growled.

I rushed toward the door of the balcony, pushing my way through a few patrons who were lingering just outside.

A text came in, the sound penetrating my echoing eardrums.

As I raced toward the stairwell to the lobby and hallway leading backstage, I yanked it free.

The few words would be ones I’d never forget.

Bombs were found.