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Serenity

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Two years later

PARIS

“You should tell him, Serenity,” Debra says, as she watches me put the finishing touches on my makeup.

"No," I answer without looking at her, continuing to paint my eyes. From the night of my first solo performance, two years ago, I decided to take the task upon myself. Makeup artists always put on too much, and I feel heavy with so much mascara.

"You're not thinking straight. Take advantage of the fact that you will be spending the next few months in the United States."

"I'm already tense just knowing that he and I will live in the same city. If I tell Ares about my stalker, he won't let me breathe, Debra."

I've been calling Madam Villatoro that for a long time. She went from mentor to dear friend, even making my beloved JeAnne jealous. I love them both, but my nanny doesn't accept sharing me with the little one with the nose up high , as she calls Villatoro.

"He's been much better than we imagined at first," she says, and I know she's right.

After that one dinner with Ares, we never met in person again. He never suggested it, and although I would like to see him again, I am too proud to ask him for such attention.

At every performance, however, no matter where in the world I am, I receive a bouquet of three dozen calla lilies—my favorite flowers—and a piece of jewelry.

I don't know how he found out about my taste in flowers. I probably mentioned it in an interview I gave.

I always thank him by message. I know he is doing it out of obligation and also, in a way, investing my fortune by buying me the jewelry.

I’ve never even opened the boxes. I don't give a damn about gold or diamonds.

Over the last two years, some things have changed in my life. The most drastic of them is that I have become a professional and that I'm about to become the prima ballerina of the New York City Ballet. But even before I reach my dream peak, I’m already acclaimed worldwide as the new global phenomenon of classical ballet. Before I received the invitation to the New York City Ballet, I was asked to join the Bolshoi, but since I intend to take JeAnne with me wherever I go, I wouldn't force her to go that far.

The retirement plans I thought she had have apparently been shelved for now. She never brought it up with me, and I never told her that I found the brochures about properties in Florida. Everyone has a right to their secrets.

I have lots of them. Currently, the only person I can say knows everything about my life is Debra. I hide nothing from her, including the overwhelming attraction I felt for my guardian the only night he came to see me.

It's not that I don't trust JeAnne enough to share that with her. I do. I love her like a mother, but sometimes I have the feeling that she still sees me as a baby.

So Debra has become my confidant, and that's precisely why she's upsetting me now.

"Haven’t you ever watched police documentaries?" she asks.

"What?"

"I'm talking specifically about stalkers, Serenity. Stalkers who pick a target and fixate on them because they think they're destined to be together, or whatever crazy reason they tell themselves."

"It's been two years since that ticket you found, Debra. Nothing serious has happened since then."

"True, but still, that person—and I'm going to assume here that it's a man—wants you to know he's nearby. The recurring tickets, the single rose that appears out of nowhere in your dressing room. These are all clues that he is around you. Aren't you afraid?"

"A little, but honestly, I don't think he means me harm. Maybe he's just a fan. A very rich one, to follow me around the world."

"Or a really crazy one. And careful, right? Because he’s never left DNA on his ‘gifts’ or gotten caught on camera."

I know she had the tickets tested and they didn't find anything. "I appreciate your concern, Debra, and I promise I will think about it, but I won't become a prisoner of fear. Besides, what could Ares do?"

"Are you kidding me? We looked him up together! The Kostanidou are a kind of royalty in the United States."

"I know. Let's do it like this: When I get to New Orleans to organize the move to New York, I'll call Ares."

"Don't think I'll forget that promise, Serenity. I complied with your request not to tell security about the flowers and notes, but something tells me that your stalker is becoming increasingly impatient."

"Impatient for what?"

"To meet you face to face."

A shiver of fear raises the hairs on the back of my neck. "I don't want to talk about it anymore. I'm going on stage in a few minutes. I need to concentrate."

"You’re like a younger sister to me, Serenity Clementine. I won't let you get hurt."