Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 143870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
“How’d you make progress?”
I consider it for a moment, thinking back to that time in my life and the event that started it all.
“Believe it or not, it was a support group that motivated me, but probably not in the way you’d expect.”
“What do you mean?” Kenzie asks.
“We were discussing the expectations society has for women who have been through this kind of trauma,” I explain. “One woman said it felt like she was always being judged based on what other people considered normal or acceptable. That really resonated, and I admitted that power dynamics appealed to me. But I felt a lot of shame over that, like maybe there was something wrong with me. And ironically enough, it was the judgment that came from another woman in that group that shifted my perspective.”
“What did she say to you?” Kenzie frowns.
“She told me she couldn’t understand why I’d let a man treat me that way after what had happened. So essentially, she proved my point.”
“Wow,” Kenzie mutters under her breath. “I wish I’d been there. I definitely would have had something to say.”
I smile at her protectiveness. “I think people either get it or they don’t. But I’m actually grateful that she said it.”
“Why?”
“Because I couldn’t accept it.” I shrug. “When you come from a background like mine, education is an act of rebellion. Her words lit a fire in me, and I rebelled hard—learning everything I could on the subject. And not only did it make me realize there wasn’t anything wrong with what I wanted, it helped me embrace who I am. I decided that I’m the only person who gets to choose what’s right for me, and fuck what anyone else thinks.”
“And that’s why you’re one of my favorite people,” Kenzie says. “I need to remember that motto.”
“I’ll remind you if anyone ever tries to bring you down,” I promise her. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, and it’s okay to move on with your life and start a new chapter. From everything you’ve told me about Andreas, it sounds like he makes you feel safe and loved, and you deserve that.”
“Thanks,” she says softly. “I hope you feel the same about yourself someday.”
I offer her a weak smile just as Mariella pokes her head in the door, quietly letting me know the class is about to start. I nod at her, then turn back to Kenzie to wrap things up.
“You’ll have to let me know how things go,” I tell her. “I’ll be here if you need me.”
“Thank you. I feel better just talking it through. But before you run off, I have something else.” She rifles around in her purse and pulls out an envelope. “This was on your dressing table.”
My stomach sinks as I study the familiar scrawl on the letters that have been arriving with alarming frequency. Whoever it is just left me one two days ago, and they used to be a week apart.
“I have to say this is freaking me out.” Kenzie glares at the envelope. “I know you thought it was just a patron, but this is a lot. Do you think we should tell Viktor?”
“No.” I shake my head quickly. The last thing I want to do is bring this to the manager’s attention. He’ll just find a way to blame me. “Can you open it?”
She bites her lip and nods, shoulders stiffening as she unfolds the paper and stares at it.
“What does it say?” I prompt her, my stomach churning as the color drains from her face.
She holds it up with a shaky hand so I can read it for myself.
Does my loyalty mean nothing to you?
These past three months have been perfect with just the two of us, but you had to go to that party and ruin everything all over again.
Why would you want to see Marco? I thought we finally understood each other.
Then you let that fucking Italian touch you?
Don’t make me get ugly, K. You won’t like it when I do.
I study those hastily scrawled lines as my blood runs cold. Whoever this is, he’s never admitted to watching me outside the club before, though I’ve suspected it. He knows far too much about me, and that singular letter at the end reads like nothing less than a threat.
It triggers a familiar fear that my past is catching up with me. That he’s found me, and this is his way of tormenting me before he makes me disappear forever. But the longer I stare at it, the more I convince myself that it must be a coincidence.
Logically, it doesn’t make sense that it could be him. Ares keeps tabs on the entire Seattle area, and I trust that he would tell me if I was in danger. But I still can’t seem to shake this feeling. I’ve received a lot of weird gifts and notes in my years as a performer, but these are different. And I’m not the only one who thinks so.