Dad:I’ll be back at the office in half an hour. Let me know when you have arrived safely.
And the last message was the cherry on top—Grandma had truly outdone herself. I regretted teaching her how to use a phone.
Grandma:Don’t tell your father, but I put three packs of condoms in your luggage as protection just in case. Don’t forget women’s pleasure is as important as men’s. If he orgasms, so should you!
She paired that with the eggplant and pepper emoji.
“Congratulations, you’ve just made yourself your first and possibly worst enemy at Pantheon,” Yasmine said. “How do you know each other anyway?”
“I don’t know him anymore,” I said, quickly texting back to my family that I was alive—making sure not to mention Levi Delombre.
Over the years, I’d daydreamed about meeting him again, but it had never crossed my mind that he’d heartlessly trample over my already battered heart, draining himself of any remaining shreds of humanity.
“Well, I don’t know how he was back then, but my sister warned me to stay away from the Tacticians. And you’ll never guess what he is…that’s right, a Tactician.” She shrugged, leading the way inside the opera house. “I heard he’s a bully with the right allies, and yes, I eavesdrop a lot. My life is boring, so I live vicariously through others—and books. How do you know him?”
“He was the son of my old music teacher.”
This story didn’t have a happy ending. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that I was part of his villain origin story.
“Small world.”
I swallowed. “It is.”
Levi seemed to have it all now—apparently ruling over Pantheon after leaving our hometown. But I knew appearances were deceiving. There had to be a vulnerability, a weakness beneath his facade. I couldn’t bring back the Cigno Nero, but I would find a way to redeem myself. And that meant facing him sooner rather than later.
I clenched my fists. No, Levi wasn’t a monster. I wouldn’t let him convince me otherwise. There had to be remnants of the boy I once knew buried within him.
We ascended the stairwell filled with students heading toward the ceremony, but when we reached the top, I divergedfrom the crowd. I walked to one of the doors leading to the defunct opera house that was still closed for renovation. A frigid draft seeped from beneath the door’s crack. I pressed my palm against the door’s small window. Peering inside, I found darkness, broken only by the skeletal steel frame of construction and scattered tarpaulins. The velvet curtain lay halfway fallen on the floor. One towering arch remained shattered above, its golden frame stretching out like the arms of a conductor commanding the emptiness.
My heart contracted, my thumb scratching the side of my nail. I close my eyes, resurrecting the magic of this place in my memories. This stage had graced the greatest musicians of many generations, including Pantheon’s best students. Every year, I would beg Mom to attend the Pantheon’s Winter Orchestra for Christmas, and she never failed to take me.
Until they took her away from me.
“Dalia?” Yas’s voice brought me back to reality. “Are you okay?”
“Sorry, I’m here.” I stepped away, pushing aside the heaviness in my heart, and followed her into the makeshift amphitheater for the ceremony. We found empty seats in the burgundy sofas in the first row. I focused on the noise around us, trying to shut down the voices inside my head when my gaze was abruptly arrested by the balcony above.
Levi stood there, staring at me, his gaze hostile and intense. He wasn’t alone, though. His fingers traced the arm of a woman with curly black hair, and an uncomfortable tightness gripped my chest. I watched him lean in, about to whisper something in her ear. I knew I should look away. It wasn’t my business, but his eyes held me captive as if he sought to obliterate me with just the intensity of his gaze.
I involuntarily tightened my knees together and tore my eyes away, forcing a semblance of composure. I received a flow of notifications from my Instagram account.
You have one new follower.
My profile was set to private. I’d never received a follow request, but somehow, I’d already accepted him.
Sixty-one likes.
All of my pictures were liked.
One comment.
All of those notifications from@LeviD_.
“Enjoyed the show, little thief?”
“Chancellor Morgan, did you receive my parents’ generous donation to Pantheon?” Kay crossed his fingers, each one adorned with an excess of rings.
Mr. Morgan readjusted his tie, failing miserably to sneak past our balcony to go on stage to give his usual boring welcome speech. “I did. I’d like to say it’s a delight to have you three back this year, but that would be a lie.”
