Page 131 of Dance of Defiance

The Mercury Theater is astunningold theater in midtown, at Madison Avenue and East 49thStreet. I’ve been here dozens of times to see Evie perform or pick her up after rehearsal, but I’m blown away by the beauty of the place every time.

Today, it appears the company has been rehearsing on stage rather than in the practice studio. Some dancers are still going through movements in various clusters around the stage, with others sitting to the side, cooling down.

“Roman! What up, dude?”

I turn, grinning when I see Miguel walking over. I bump his fist with mine.

“What up, man?”

“Not much. You here to pick up Evie?”

I nod.

“Cool.” Miguel turns and points up past the top balcony, to the small window that I know is Madame Kuzmina’s office. “She’s up in the dragon’s lair.”

I chuckle. “How was today?”

He groans. “Brutal, man. Kuzmina was in amood. But we had a visitor.” He grins and winks. “If Angela asks, I never said it, butdamn, the girl isfine. Russian.” He turns and points.

My jaw goes tight.

“Daria, I think her name is?”

“Dasha,” I growl, my eyes narrowing to where she’s standing at the side of the stage, grinning with sparkles in her eyes, utterlycharmedby the hot, shirtless motherfucker with all his tattoos and muscles on display, talking to her like he’s ready to fuck her right there against the curtain.

Val.

“Her name is Dasha,” I say coldly. “Dasha Lukashova.”

Miguel’s brows pinch, and then suddenly his face pales and his eyes go wide.

“Ohfuck…” He looks terrified as he steps away from me. “Shit, dude, I didn’t make the connection. Roman, no disrespect at all, I didn’t mean to say shit like that about your fiancée?—”

“All good.” I force a smile as I turn and clap him on the back. “Seriously.”

He smiles weakly. “Beautiful girl you’ve got, man. You’re a lucky guy.”

“Thanks, bud.”

He heads back to the stage, but I just stay in the aisle, glaring at Val as he shamelessly flirts with Dasha.

Suddenly he turns, and his eyes land on me. My vision tunnels as I watch him deliberately drape a thick arm around Dasha’s shoulders.

Then hegrinsat me.

“Roman!” he calls, beckoning.

Dasha turns, her brows arching in surprise when she sees me. “Hi?” she says, frowning as I stalk toward them.

I climb the stairs at the left of the stage and approach, my eyes firmly onhim.

“Hi,” I mutter, finally turning to Dasha. “I'm here to pick up my sister.”

Dasha beams. “You should have been here ten minutes ago. She isfantastic.”

“Taught her everything she knows,” Val sighs deeply, making Dasha giggle.

“Romance—” He stops and turns to Dasha. “Have you heard that nickname people have for this guy? Romance?”