Ironically, ballet is the main reason I’m on the Knightsblood campus today. A few months ago, Madame Kuzimina, the enigmatic and at times terrifying Artistic Director of the Zakharova, was contacted by the performing arts department here at Knightsblood. They wanted to elevate their dance program, and did Madame K have any dancers who might be interested in coming bi-weekly to teach professional level ballet to a few select students?
Why yes, yes she did.
Enter Evelina, stage left.
Part of it was that I’d always had these lingering thoughts about “what might have been” if I’d come here. I definitely wouldn’tbe a dancer, so it’s honestly not a decision I agonize over. But I also leapt at the opportunity when Madame Kuzmina asked me about it because lately, I’ve needed some space at home.
From Roman.
Don’t get me wrong: I love my brother more than anything in the world. But things…changedbetween us after what happened with our dad.
For one, a few months ago, Roman moved back to the main house. I’d never left home when I stayed in New York to dance for the Zakharova. Why would I? It’s a gorgeous, enormous mansion, and besides, it’s not like I needed privacy to party or bring boys home.
I mean,come on.
Dad also traveled a lot for both business and pleasure, so I frequently had the house to myself, too.
But then Dad was sent to Russia, and Roman moved back in.
With Val.
Now, again, donotget me wrong. I love them both dearly. And on paper, living in a huge, glamorous house with my big brother and his incredible boyfriend who also happens to be one of my besties is a dream scenario.
And it is. On paper.
Most of the time.
But sometimes, I just need a break. And the gorgeous Knightsblood campus an hour away is the perfect escape.
So that’s the main reason I’m here. Today in particular, though, there’s a second reason.
“Evelina!”
I turn at the sound of Andrés’ voice and grin when I see him waving at me as he steps out of the main admin building. His tailored gray suit complements his tanned, mediterranean features perfectly and fits his athletic frame like a glove as he jogs over to me across the quad.
“Just the beautiful lady I was looking for!”
I feel a flush creep up my neck and cheeks as his gorgeous dark eyes sparkle, and that lyrical Spanish accent washes over me.
“Andrés! Hi!”
A heated shiver whisks up my spine as he smiles and takes my hand, then brings the back of it to his lips.
Oh my. Remember the part where I said I could feel desire?
Aside from being model-level attractive and dizzyingly charming, Andrés Torvallés is also the crown prince of the Torvallés family, anold-school mafia family based in Barcelona that goes back literally centuries. He’s probably in his early thirties, maybe late twenties—older than me enough that it feels mysterious and maybe a little sexy without being creepy.
He also sits on the board of directors here at Knightsblood, which is how we started chatting a couple of weeks ago.
Okay, full disclosure, Imighthave purposefully sought him out, and not because he looks like a Gucci model.
It’s been three weeks since my disastrous attempt to sneak into the private party at Club Venom and pitch my request for help to Vaughn.
Three weeks since he told me to run away and never look back.
And I haven’t, for the most part. In my day-to-day life, I haven’t remotelyconsideredtrying to get close to him again.
My dreams, however, are a different story.
