Most of the other students were in the studio warming up. Lyna organized them by age. Seven and under, eight to twelve, and thirteen and up were the three age groups. The classes provided to new students and private lessons were given at different times. This was a special class for extra practice more than anything else, and Amaranthe enjoyed working with all the students. They were dedicated to learning their craft.
Once their target is comfortable with them, they begin to pressure them for photographs or videos. Usually, the child won’t comply at first, but photos are sent to them. Naturally, they aren’t of the real person talking to them. That person is an adult, not a teenager. The adult keeps working them, insisting on the photographs and videos until the teen caves. Once that happens, the child is trapped.
Nicoletta made a small sound of protest.They would feel so hopeless.
Yes, Amaranthe agreed.Most of them won’t tell their parents or any other adult. Many end up suiciding; they’re so distraught when they’re threatened with extortion. In this case, these people seem to be forcing the teens to steal from local businesses as well as spread gossip.
Geno had been observing Lyna Marchel from the shadows.I can’t imagine that she would send naked pictures to anyone.
No, she’s always held a grudge against me, although she was never rude to me. We got along. She didn’t want me hired, Amaranthe confirmed.I don’t think it was difficult to recruit her.
She has no idea you’re engaged to me, does she?Geno asked.
It doesn’t seem so.Amaranthe led Selena over to the group of eight- to twelve-year-old girls. Carlotta was back, and Amara kept a sharp eye on her. She was having a very difficult time. Normally, the ten-year-old was very good, but now she couldn’t transition from one position into the next, not even with the aid of the bar. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying so much, and no amount of cold water was going to alleviate the symptoms.
Lyna Marchel didn’t help, scowling at the child and stomping over to put the little girl’s feet or hands into the correct position. Twice she snapped at Carlotta, telling her to pay attention. That brought a fresh flood of tears to Carlotta, and Lyna rolled her eyes in disgust.
“Do you need to go home, Carlotta?” she demanded. “Stop this nonsense right now.”
Jenny snickered. The moment she did, two of Carlotta’s closest friends, Selena and a young girl of nine named Debbie Atwater, laughed. Amaranthe instantly stopped the music playing in the studio.
“That will be enough of that. Jenny, you can call your parents to come and get you. I won’t have you bullyingother students in this class. You’re far too old to pick on younger students. Ms. Marchel, you and I can discuss how best to help the students when they’re having difficulties after this class. I want all of you to sit on the mat in your groups and start stretching.”
Jenny tossed her head, sending her hair flying. “I can’t possibly call my parents. They won’t like it. They pay good money for me to take this class.” She looked to Lyna Marchel for confirmation. “It isn’t happening.”
“I’m afraid it is, Jenny. If you don’t call them yourself, I’ll be forced to call them and have you removed from the program altogether.”
“You don’t have that kind of authority,” Lyna snapped, raising her chin in a challenge to Amaranthe. “No worries, Jenny. She’s just trying to act as though she owns the studio. Once the board hears what she’s doing, they’ll fire her. You don’t have to call your parents.”
Amaranthe shrugged. “Keep stretching, girls,” she said to the others.
The door to the studio opened, and first, Fiero came inside. Then Geno’s wide shoulders filled the frame. She glanced up and sent him a brief smile. Behind him, Salvatore and Lucca shadowed him. All three were dressed in three-piece suits. Behind them, Donte followed. The two bodyguards broke off and stood against the wall.
The girls gaped at the men, the teenagers whispering, giggling and covering their mouths.
Geno went straight to Amaranthe. “Danzatrice Ombra, Stefano would like to have lunch with us. Will you be able to have the time off?” He lifted her hand with the ring on her finger to his mouth and kissed it before turning to Lyna Marchel. “Good morning, Ms. Marchel. I trust all is well this morning?” He looked around the studio. “Girls.”
The giggles grew louder.
“Sadly, Geno, we’re in the middle of an incident,” Amaranthe said. “I was just about to call the parents of one of the students. She’s no longer welcome here. She wasbullying a younger student, and when I told her to call her parents to take her home, she refused. That is grounds for her dismissal. Unfortunately, Ms. Marchel backed her and is insisting Jenny can stay and that the board will dismiss me.”
The air in the room seemed to be difficult to breathe. Tension built. Geno turned slowly to face Lyna Marchel. “You didn’t back the headmistress of the studio? In fact, you incited a student to go against her instructions?”
For a moment, Lyna’s lips trembled, but then she firmed them. “She overstepped her authority. She can’t throw out one of our highest-paying clients without board approval.”
“Actually, Ms. Marchel, that isn’t so. Had you read any of the many regulations the board sent you when we were trying to get you to take the job of head instructor for the studio, you would have known that.”
Lyna gave a little sniff of disdain. “What I do know is the board made a huge mistake choosing this woman as the head instructor. She may be brilliant at dance, but she has no business sense. You don’t cater to the poor students and simply dismiss the wealthy because they have a sense of entitlement. You learn to work with them.”
“You don’t believe in treating all students the same?” Geno asked, his voice pitched very low. That should have been a warning.
“No, of course not. They aren’t the same. She’s far too young to understand what it takes to run a successful dance studio and theater. Girls like Jordan”—she poured contempt into her voice—“may have some talent, but she’s handicapped and has no money. What’s the use of giving time and energy to her? Someone like Jenny, who is difficult and entitled, has talent and money and will go a long way given the right instructor. She would bring prestige to our school.”
Geno shook his head. “That isn’t what our mission statement is, Ms. Marchel.”
“Mission statements sound good for publicity and fund-raising, Mr. Ferraro,” Lyna said defiantly.
“It’s too bad that you feel that way, Ms. Marchel, after all the years you have worked for us. We’ve valued your time with us, so much so that we encouraged you to take the position as head instructor, but you adamantly refused. You’ve left me with no choice but to terminate your position.”
