Page 53 of Loving the Tormentor

"Fine," he says with a shrug.

He shuts the case, reaches across me to zip it, and takes it as he stands up. His knees brush against mine as he goes past me to exit the row of seats.

"I don't often give advice to newbies, but I'm sure by now you know I've got a soft spot for you." He waves the case. "There’s no place in orchestras for people who play a right-handed violin on the wrong shoulder. The instrument is simply not good enough, not made for it. Even if Miss Rivera is willing to break orchestra etiquette and have you be a stain on her beautiful sitting with your bow held in your left hand, your instrument simply doesn't sound good to a trained ear."

A punch to the gut would have been less painful. The truth hurts, and I hate hearing it.

"I know," I croak. "But it's my dream to?—"

"No one cares what your dream is, Nyx. Only you can make it achievable. And no one will have pity on you because you’re deaf in one ear either. I certainly don't."

My heart drops so heavily in my stomach, I feel sick.

I stand up stiffly, pressing a hand against my belly. God, I think I'm going to vomit on his shoes.

"H-How do you know that?"

"Because I've observed you, and I'm not stupid." He snorts. "I had a hunch when I realized you couldn't hear me coming when I approached from behind you. Then when you played leftie. But there's that thing you do that told me I was right…"

He licks his lips, his predatory gaze eating me alive.

"Your eyes are always on my lips, reading what I'm saying. It takes all of me not to jump you when I see you do that, you know?"

I take a step back, putting myself back between two rows.

"Did you tell anyone? Who else knows?" I panic.

"I haven't told anyone, but I wouldn't be surprised if Miss Rivera figured it out too. She wouldn't have let you play that way in her orchestra otherwise. And I'm sure Mrs. Oakes knows since she let you in the school."

"She's the only one who's supposed to."

I take a trembling breath as he approaches, but I don't move back.

"Listen." He presses a hand on my cheek. "I don't care about your hearing. I'm not giving you this violin because I think your story of coming from the poor side of town and having a disability is touching. I'm doing it because you have the potential of being a damn good soloist, and it’d be a waste to our industry if you couldn't prove that to the right ears. So, take this violin and go prove to everyone what you're capable of. It's really fucking stupid that I'm the only one who sees it just because I'm a musical genius and everyone in this music school is below me."

A laugh bursts out of me, stopping the tears that were about to fall. He rubs his thumb just under my right eye, clearly noticing them.

"There's the asshole I know," I murmur.

He winks at me before pushing my fringe out of my eyes again, and hands me the case.

"You said it yourself," I voice more seriously, even though I take the instrument. "Everyone has a price. And after what happened Friday, I don't want you to think this gift is my price. It doesn't give you access to me."

"Oh, Nyx." He chuckles softly. "I already have access to you, baby. Don't worry about that."

My mouth drops open, and he quickly presses a kiss on my lips.

"Fuck off, Achilles!" I snap, but it holds much less strength than when I really wanted him to leave me alone.

I quickly change the topic when he steps away and exits the row to walk to the stage.

"How much was it? Tell me. I won't give it back to you. I just want to know." I follow him, holding my violin like it's the most precious thing in the world. Because it is.

He steps on stage and turns back to me, now looking down on me, not because of his height but because he's standing so much higher.

"Five-hundred and eighty thousand dollars."

My entire body tenses, trying to keep the shock off my face. Achilles Duval is supposed to be a number one asshole. He takes pleasure in torturing me. A five-hundred-and-eighty-thousand-dollar gift feels a lot like caring.