"Then let's hear it," the director of planning says. "I won't play hard to get. I'm dying for this."
They all laugh heartedly, but Achilles stays quiet.
"Of course. Nyx will play for you."
The silence this causes is heavy, only cut by me choking on my water, bubbles practically bursting out of my nose. My heart has stopped, and I place a hand on my chest, tapping lightly as if to help restart it. When we walked in, he introduced me as his new protégé. He warned me in the car on the way here that he didn't want to say he was bringing his girlfriend, that he wanted them to see me as another musician. But this? This is pushing it. I don't have the skills to present this piece.
Oscar, the conductor, puts a hand up. "Just to be clear, she presents it, but if this goes ahead, you'll be our soloist, right?"
My boyfriend shrugs, relaxing against the back of the couch. "Sure, if that's what you want. For today, I just believe Nyx has a better…" He pretends to look for his words as his gaze comes to me "…inner understanding of the piece. It touched her to hercore."
My cheeks burn as they all turn to me.
"Is that right?" Oscar asks me.
I gulp, scratch my throat, and put my hair behind my ears. None of it helps. I'm uncontrollably hot from yesterday’s memories.
"Y-Yes," I rasp.
Achilles's mocking smile makes me want to jump him, and not in a fun way. I'll kill him for this later.
"Which orchestra have you played for before, Nyx?" the director of music keeps going.
Achilles waves a hand. "Don't ask stupid questions, Oscar. Talent is talent."
Oscar smiles politely and nods. "Of course. Please, Nyx. I'm all ears."
I freeze. What am I supposed to do?
Achilles leans toward me and whispers, "Now is the moment you take the violin and play for the nice men, Nyx."
I'm going to push my thumbs into his eyes if he ever blinks at me again in the way he just did.
"It'syourviolin, Achilles," I grit out through a fake smile. "I can't play it."
"Don't be silly. That's your case."
His mocking tone jolts me into action. As I grab the case with trembling hands, my narrow eyes tell him that I'm so going to make him regret this situation.
How did I not recognize this case was mine and not his? I need to stop turning my brain off when I'm with him.
There's a seat with a music stand, and I bring the concerto sheets and violin there. I take a minute to set up and make sure that all is in order. But my hands are sweating, and I can feel from the tension in the room that I'm taking too long.
I'm ready to faint when I look up, dry mouth, damp neck, and my eyes cross with Achilles's. He nods. No smirk, no wink, no mockery. He just nods encouragingly and mouths,I love you.
I look down at the concerto I read multiple times yesterday. The one that gave me countless orgasms, the one that ripped through my soul.
And with the silent encouragement of the man I love, I slide my bow against the strings, play the first notes…and everything else disappears.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Achilles
PASSENGER PRINCESS– Nessa Barrett
We're mid-flight back to Maryland, eating the lunch prepared by the attendant and debating who’s the most talented violinist of all time, when my phone rings. I don’t look at it at first, not wanting the talk to end. Nyx has a soft spot for Paganini, and I’ve been supporting the simple perfection of Heiftz.
"Of course you’d fall for the Devil’s Violinist," I say playfully. "You’re attracted to that shit."
