I called her mother. She’s on her way. We’ll see what happens when she shows up, Amaranthe said.
Amaranthe led the little girls back to their mats and called the next age group up. Carlotta and Selena were in the group. Jenny kept trying to get Selena’s attention, but Amaranthe inserted her body between the teen and her intended target to prevent Selena from seeing Jenny giving her signals. It was clear she wanted Selena to ridicule Carlotta in some way. Carlotta was quite good already, one of the best in her age group. It was clear she practiced, stretched and worked on her core. Her two friends Selena and Debbie weren’t quite as good, but they had the potential to be if they worked the way Carlotta did. Carlotta had single-minded purpose, even at ten. She had the dream of being a ballerina and was determined to succeed.
Carlotta was very sensitive and emotional. She also was on scholarship. Her family had very little money, a fact that Jenny knew and frequently told the other children. She made fun of Jordan for the same reason. Jordan was targeted because she was hearing impaired and had little money. As a rule, Jenny had kept her bullying to a minimum, but as she was Ms. Marchel’s favorite student, more and more she had begun to act a little bolder.
At first, Jenny had tried to curry favor with Amaranthe, but Amara didn’t play favorites in class. She was a strict but fair instructor. She took dance seriously, just as she tookriding shadows seriously. The only dancers who could play around in class were the little ones. She wanted them to have fun and learn to love ballet.
Geno and his brothers leaned against the bank of windows, arms folded, seemingly watching the girls go through the classic ballet positions. They were really studying the position of the shadows in the studio. Amaranthe was just as careful as they were to avoid being close to a shadow just in case one of the assassins burst out of an opening to attack with a poison blade.
Jenny’s up to something again, Nicoletta warned.She’s whispering to the girl next to her.
That’s Priscilla.Priscilla Clake was older than Jenny by a year but an introvert. She rarely talked. She kept shaking her head, refusing to look at the younger teen. Abruptly, she laid her head flat on her legs in a long stretch, attempting to ignore Jenny altogether.
Jenny muttered something under her breath. It appeared as if she didn’t like that the atmosphere in the studio had calmed, and no one was paying the slightest bit of attention to her. She used her foot to shove at Reba. Reba was on the mat beside Jordan. Jordan stretched, her head turned toward the girls working, a smile on her face. Jenny indicated for Reba to kick Jordan. Reba frowned and shook her head. She tried to look away from Jenny, but Jenny shoved her foot at Reba again and indicated Jordan.
Amaranthe sighed, stood up and walked over to the group of teenagers. “Jenny, you really are the most immature, childish girl I’ve ever had in one of my classes, and I’ve taught all over Europe in the most prestigious schools. You wouldn’t have lasted five minutes. You have no discipline at all.”
Deliberately, Amaranthe was as cutting as possible, setting herself up for the girl’s retaliation. The hope was that Jenny would run straight to her handlers and demand justice for the humiliation in front of her friends.
Her face bright red, Jenny leapt up, taller than Amaranthe, her fist shooting out toward her face. Amara blocked the punch.
“I do believe that is considered assault, Jenny,” she said. “And in front of witnesses, too.”
The other girls gasped. Three of the younger girls began to cry.
“You’ll have to press charges, Amara,” Geno said, on his feet. “She can’t keep getting away with her bullying tactics.”
The door to the studio opened and London Porthman hurried in. She stopped abruptly when she caught sight of Geno, Salvatore and Lucca. Immediately, she broke into a huge smile. She was a woman of about forty with blond hair and blue eyes. She had a very trim figure and was tall like her daughter. She wore slim wool trousers and a blue silk blouse with a dark brown topper over it. She looked extremely chic.
“How lovely to run into the three of you,” she said. “I can’t remember the last time that happened.” Her gaze swept past them to take in her daughter, who stood with both fists clenched, her face red and a scowl twisting what could have been a pretty face into something nearly ugly.
London looked around the room at the crying children. “What’s going on, Geno?”
“Your daughter just tried to assault the instructor. Fortunately, she was able to block the punch before she was struck in the face. As you can see, Jenny being physically violent toward Amaranthe upset the younger children. I’ve advised Amara to press charges. It won’t hurt Jenny to spend the night in a facility. As it is, she’s banned from this school, and I’m going to see to it that she won’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of getting in any other school I oversee or have any influence with.”
Jenny paled. “He can’t do that. She’s sleeping with him, Mom. That’s why he’s taking her side. They’re making thisentire thing up. Reba and Priscilla will tell you the truth. He’s only saying that because she’s sleeping with him. She even made him get rid of Ms. Marchel.”
London turned to Geno with a shocked look on her face.
Ignoring her, Geno centered his attention on Jenny. “Why would you give your mother partial information? Are you hoping she says something to anger me? Or upset Amaranthe? Do you have any concept of the difference in our social status? If your mother were to lose her social status, you would no longer be welcome at any of those events you love to go to. None of the privileges you have right now would be yours any longer. You’re dependent on your parents’ status. They own certain companies. Do you know what I can do to those companies, Jenny? Do you have any idea what would happen if they angered me because they insulted my fiancée the way you have?”
“Your fiancée?” London whispered.
The girls in the studio murmured to one another in a wave of approval.
Geno took Amaranthe’s hand and turned her wrist over to bring up her fingers, showing off the ring. She understood that he wasn’t just warning Jenny he would retaliate against the teen, but that he would take down the entire family if anything else were done to his fiancée. She was beginning to understand just how ruthless the Ferraro family could be under the right circumstances—when they were protecting the ones they loved.
The idea that Geno Ferraro could love her astonished her. Her gaze jumped to Salvatore and then Lucca. They were there to defend her as well. Even though she found Geno’s voice and demeanor chilling, she still felt wrapped up in a warmth she’d never known before.
“Jenny knows Amaranthe is my fiancée, London. She knew when she defied her, refusing to stop bullying the other girls. She knew it when she refused to call you after having been given a direct order. She knew it when shetried to punch Amara. And she knew it when she tried to get you to say something derogatory to her,” Geno accused, never once raising his voice.
“Jenny.” London barely breathed her daughter’s name. “How could you?”
“Mom, just pay him off. Pay whatever they want. Ihaveto dance. I don’t care who she is or if they’re sleeping together. Just pay them whatever they want.” Jenny’s eyes filled with tears, and her voice hit a whiny pitch.
Amaranthe could see the teenager was very used to manipulating her mother. London hesitated and looked imploringly, first at Geno, who gave her his expressionless mask, and then to Amara.
“I’m sorry,” Amaranthe said as gently as possible. “She can’t come back. She went way over the line.”
