Page 17

Angelique

“ W hat was that about?” Lando’s voice cuts through the silence as he joins me outside the guesthouse. We both watch as Reign climbs into his burgundy Porsche, the engine growling to life before he peels away down the gravel path.

“I honestly do not know,” I mutter, pushing open the guesthouse door.

Lando trails behind me, closing the door with a soft click. “Did you two just get back from a morning rehearsal?”

“Yeah, and he wants you to join us tomorrow.”

He looks at me, dumbfounded. “Me? Reign wants me there?”

I nod, biting back a smirk.

He stares at me, utterly bewildered. “Well damn. I guess I’ve officially been promoted to third wheel.”

I laugh, swatting his arm, and he grins in return.

I cross to the kitchen and reach for my water bottle, twisting off the lid, but as I go to fill it at the sink, I notice that resting on a folded paper towel by the basin are the shattered pieces of the mug I’d filled with coffee earlier.

I stare at it wondering what the hell happened after I left.

“Ready to get to work?” Lando asks, oblivious.

“Yeah,” I say quickly, screwing the lid back on and tossing the bottle into my duffel. “Let’s go.”

“So,” Lando says as he backs out of the driveway, trying—and failing—to look casual. “How was your first night with Reign?”

I groan, burying my face in my hands. “Do you want the shirtless and dripping wet version, or the part where he heard me having a nightmare?”

Lando nearly chokes on his breath . “Wait — what?”

“Yup.” I rub at my temples. “I can’t believe I didn’t wake up from this one. Who knows how long I was screaming for?”

“Uh, no. Absolutely not. You don’t just drop ‘shirtless and dripping wet’ like that and then skip ahead. Back it up, because I need context. Now.”

I let out a tired laugh and lean my head against the window. “I was getting a glass of water and thought the coast was clear. Then—BAM—the bathroom door swings, and out walks Reign, shirtless, dripping wet, steam and everything, and of course his towel was barely hanging on.”

Lando blinks at the road. “Oh my God,” he whispers, scandalized. “Continue.”

I shoot him a look. “That’s basically it. I froze, he stared, I panicked and ran, water went everywhere.”

He chokes on a laugh. “And what, he just let you escape?”

I roll my eyes. “No. He texted me five minutes later saying, and I quote, ‘For the record, I didn’t mind you looking.’ ”

Lando cackles so hard the car swerves to the left. “I knew he’d enjoy the attention. He’s such a menace.”

When we pull up to Imperium, it begins to rain. We grab our bags and make it inside just in time for Techniques, but Reign isn’t here, and neither is Wendy.

I try to focus, but Layla corrects me more than once, and every time she touches my arms or angles my hips, I flinch—not from pain, but from getting caught being distracted. My thoughts won’t stop spiraling.

It’s still pouring when our lunch break rolls around. “Looks like we can’t go out on the steps today,” Willow says somberly as we watch the downpour from one of the hallway windows.

“What about the auditorium?” Alfie offers.

Max shakes his head. “When I walked past there earlier, it looked like they were preparing the space for something.”

Four pairs of wide eyes turn to me.

“What?” I touch my face self-consciously.

“It’s got to be auditions for your understudy,” Willow whispers.

“Come on,” Lando grabs my wrist, his excitement barely contained, “we’re going to spy.”

Several minutes later, I’m hidden away in the shadows of the back rows inside the auditorium, along with the others. Willow was right about auditions for my understudy being today. I spot Reign seated near the front along with Volkov, Layla, and one other person I haven’t met yet.

“Who’s that?” I whisper to Lando, nodding at the stranger.

His eyes light up. “Terry Baker. The hottest choreographer in the country. Probably the world. Total genius but a bit of a sadist.”

He’s tall, with a buzzed head and inked arms. He looks like he could break someone in half and still choreograph a masterpiece while doing it. Attractive, sure—but the kind of attractive that’s almost terrifying. More intimidating than Reign, even.

“Why’s Reign up there but not Angelique?” Max murmurs, unzipping a sandwich.

“Volkov probably wants to see the chemistry between Reign and the candidates," Alfie replies, taking a bite out of a liquorice stick.

Lando frowns. “Reign didn’t tell you about this?” I shake my head, my stomach knotting.

The music starts and we watch dancer after dancer perform pieces from both Odette and Odile. In the end, it comes down to Wendy and another girl I’ve never met. I watch as Volkov leans in and whispers something into Reign’s ear, and moments later, Reign stands up and strides onto the stage.

“Here we go,” Lando mutters.

He begins a pas de deux with the girl I don’t recognize, but he moves fast, so much faster than she’s able to keep up with and I hold my breath as I watch her struggle before crashing onto her ankle at a horrible angle.

She screams out in pain, and it reverberates around the auditorium, sending a shiver down my spine.

“That’s what I meant when I said he breaks his partners,” Lando murmurs, eyes fixed on the girl as she’s helped offstage. “You keep up, or he leaves you behind.”

But Reign hasn’t been like that with me. He’s been gentle. Why is he a different person here?

It’s Wendy’s turn now, and she’s started with Odile. I watch her enter the stage, fierce, her eyes never leaving Reign, and when he joins her, the energy between them crackles.

“Wow,” I whisper as I watch them, something close to envy twisting in my chest.

This feels like I’m intruding on something personal. I can’t help but think this is exactly what Volkov wants from me, and I know for a fact I don’t have it in me to pull this off. Ever.

“They should just split the role. Let her have Odile,” I whisper, more to myself.

“Angelique Denise Sinclair, I never want to hear those words come out of your mouth ever again,” Lando hisses, twisting to look at me.

I wince. “Gross, I haven’t heard my full name said like that in years.”

“I’m serious. Don’t compare yourself to Wendy.”

“How can I not?” I whisper. “She’s literally auditioning for my role.”

He goes quiet, and we watch as Wendy finishes the adage with Reign. She’s brilliant and passionate enough to mask the complete lack of emotion in him. I’m not at all surprised to find not only Volkov standing and clapping at the end, but Layla and Terry as well.

“If only Angelique danced like this,” Volkov says, his voice bouncing around the room.

My stomach drops and humiliation floods through every ounce of my body as I feel the stares of my friends turn to me, but I refuse to look at them as I hold my breath.

“That is the seducing I talk about,” Volkov continues, gesturing to Wendy. “Maybe she should be Swan Queen.”

His words land like a slap and without a second thought, I stand and quietly make my way up the auditorium stairs, toward the back exit doors. I’m too humiliated to sit here and listen to Volkov point out that I’m not the right fit for this role.

“Angelique is my partner,” Reign says, his voice firm. “If she doesn’t dance, then neither do I.”

I freeze, my hands hovering on the door handle as I look over my shoulder. He’s still standing on the stage, but his eyes are on me now.

How the hell did he even see me from that far away?

My heart pounds viscously as I hold his gaze, his words ricocheting in my head.

“What?” Wendy demands. “The whole point of an understudy is so that you can still perform without her.”

Reign drags his eyes from mine and looks down at Wendy, bored. “Like I said, if Angelique doesn’t dance, then neither will I. You can dance with my understudy if that happens.”

Wendy’s jaw drops as she watches him jump off the stage, rage written all over her face.

“Who’s that?” Terry asks from below.

I look down at where he and the instructors are seated and see that he’s facing me now, watching Reign stalk up the stairs toward me.

“That is Angelique Sinclair,” Layla replies, glaring at Volkov. “Our Swan Queen.”

“Is that so?” Terry grins. “I’d like to meet with you both in an hour.”

Reign nods and turns back to me. “Let’s go.” He takes my hand without hesitation, Willow squealing excitedly a few rows down, and walks out of the auditorium, gently tugging me along .

We catch the attention of nearly half the company on our way down the hall and up flights of stairs, each person looking at our joined hands in shock.

“Where are we going?” I ask, trying to pull my hand free, but Reign only tightens his grip and stays quiet.

A few minutes later, we step onto the rooftop and into a glass-domed greenhouse. Of all the things to find on the rooftop of a ballet company, a greenhouse would have been at the bottom of my list.

“Wow,” I breathe, staring at the lush chaos of greenery around me.

Reign finally releases my hand and crosses to the far end, lighting a cigarette in the open doorway. I watch the smoke curl into the rain outside as I stay quiet, waiting for him to speak first.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” he finally says, staring at me over his shoulder before looking back out at the pouring rain, taking another pull.

I take slow steps until I’m leaning on the frame opposite him. “It’s not like what Volkov said isn’t true,” I say, my voice quiet.

Reign growls in frustration, surprising me, and turns to face me fully. “ Everything Volkov said isn’t true.”

“Reign.” I sigh. “I was there. I saw how amazing Wendy is. She’s exactly what this production needs in an Odile.”

“This production wouldn’t exist without you,” he says.

He throws the barely smoked cigarette out into the rain and steps closer, inches from me now, causing my breath to hitch.

“I’m not dancing this without you,” he says, his tone deathly serious.

“Why? ”

He falters, like I’ve caught him off guard. “Does it matter?”

“Yeah, actually. It does,” I reply. “Because surely you know that I can’t keep up with you, Reign. I’ll end up just another broken partner.”

He rears his head back like I’ve offended him. “Believe me when I say if I wanted to break you, I already would have.”

“Exactly! It’s so easy to do because we’re at two completely different levels. So why are you so set on having me as your partner when you can have someone that’s so much better than me?”

Instead of replying, he watches me like I’ve cracked open something he didn’t expect to find, and now he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“Forget it,” I mutter, stepping back, my voice tight. “Just… forget I said anything.”

I turn to go, but his hand wraps around my wrist, gently pulling me back.

“Tell me you won’t quit,” he says, low.

“What?” I turn to look at him.

His eyes lock on mine, clearer than I’ve ever seen them. “Don’t quit,” he says again, softer now. “Promise me you won’t.”

I don’t understand why it matters to him so much to be dancing with me, but I can tell he needs to hear me say it. I can feel it in the space between us, and for once, I don’t want to lie, or run, or hide.

“I promise,” I whisper.

His hand slips from my wrist, fingers lingering a second longer than they should. It’s almost nothing. Almost. But it feels like everything .

“I should go,” I say, clearing my throat and stepping back like I’ve touched something hot. “I’ll, uhm… I’ll see you in an hour. With Terry.”

I turn and walk away, not stopping until I’m back inside, the door shutting behind me, and my pulse still thrumming in my ears.