“I’m glad your father is having this party tonight. It gives us a chance to get more acquainted. I don’t think we spent nearly enough time together the other night at my nightclub. Maybe we should take a walk in the garden, have some time alone so we can talk.”
The way he says the word ‘talk’ sounds more like a threat than a seduction. The idea of spending time alone with him doesn’t appeal to me. I glance around for an escape and notice movement coming toward me out of the corner of my eye. I turn to find Vladimir bearing down on us. He jolts to a stop when he sees me. His eyes take in my dress. His gaze travels from my feet to my eyes, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. My body instantly relaxes in his presence. I want to lean into him, but I stop myself.
“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost, Mr. Zoloth,” I whisper.
“Not a ghost,” Vladimir says. “But a vision.”
I smile at his compliment.
Pavel makes a sound, reminding me of his presence. I turn my attention to him. “Have you two met?” I ask. “Pavel Nazarov, this is Vladimir Zoloth.”
The two men shake hands. The set of Pavel’s jaw tells me he’s squeezing harder than necessary, but the smirk Vladimir offers broadcasts how little Vladimir thinks of the attempt. I hide my smile behind the champagne glass as I take a sip.
“Neither of you has champagne,” I notice, beckoning for the server to bring over her tray. I take a glass off the tray and hand it to Vladimir before reaching for a second glass.
“I prefer vodka to champagne,” Pavel says with a sneer. “Champagne is a woman’s drink.”
Vladimir chuckles as he sips his champagne. “On the contrary. Nothing else pairs with caviar so perfectly.” He plucks a cracker holding a tiny dollop of caviar from a passing server before popping it in his mouth. He follows it with another sip of champagne as he turns his full attention to me. “Exquisite.”
I blush at the hungry look in his eyes and wonder if I can follow through with my plan. Vladimir has the power to turn my mind to mush. But I need to see this through. Vladimir is my last hope. If I can convince him to marry me and take me to America, we can get divorced, and I can live the life that I’ve always dreamed of.
“Tomorrow night is Opening Night?” Vladimir asks.
I jolt at the question, but nod quickly. “Yes. I’m very nervous, but also very excited.”
“I can imagine. You’ve worked hard for this opportunity,” Vladimir says. “I’m looking forward to the performance.”
“You’re going to be there?” I ask, surprised. He nods.
“I’ll be there, too,” Pavel says. “I’m not much of a fan of ballet, but I’m sure you’ll look cute in your costume. You’re playing the part of a fairy, right? The blue fairy?”
“The Lilac Fairy,” I correct him.
“Have you not seen The Sleeping Beauty before?” Vladimir asks Pavel. “The Lilac Fairy isn’t a decoration or a bit part. She’s the reason there is a story. Aurora is the heart of the story, but the Lilac Fairy is the will. She’s the spine. From the moment Carabosse curses the child, it’s Lilac who intervenes. She doesn’t erase the curse. She reshapes fate. A hundred years of sleep instead of death. Without her, there is no ballet past the first act.”
My mouth drops open as I stare at Vladimir in complete awe. “You get it.”
He glances at me and nods. “Of course I do. I’ve seen the ballet many times, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to see you perform the role tomorrow night.”
“But she isn’t the star. She’s only a member of the cast,” Pavel complains. “Who got the role of Aurora? She’s the real star, isn’t she?”
“Aurora is the heart, yes—but the Lilac Fairy is the will,” I protest.
“She is,” Vladimir agrees. “She appears at every turning point. She guides the prince. She controls the narrative. While everyone else reacts, she decides. Musically, she dances to control, not for excess. Long balances. Sustained lines. Authority without force. If Aurora is youth and promise, Lilac is inevitability. Calm. Power that doesn’t need to prove itself. The Lilac Fairy has to hold the audience for an entire ballet without ever begging for their attention. That’s why directors cast their most trusted ballerina as Lilac. Not the loudest. Not the youngest. The one who understands timing, restraint, and gravity. People dismiss the role because it isn’t flashy. But the truth is, The Sleeping Beauty is her ballet. Everyone else is dancing inside the world she protects.”
I place my hand on Vladimir’s arm as his words rush over me. He’s the only person outside the ballet I’ve ever met who truly understands the role I’m playing. I feel exposed, but not in a bad way. No. I feel as if Vladimir has seen inside my soul and my mind. For the first time in my life, I feel seen. Pavel says something, but his words are like a gnat in my ear. They’re indistinguishable and intrusive.
“Would you like to go for a walk outside?” I ask Vladimir. “I could use some air.”
“Me, too,” Vladimir says, taking my champagne glass and placing it on a nearby table along with his. He gently threads my arm through his and guides us outside.
“Thank you for standing up for me,” I say once we’re alone.
“Of course. The man’s an idiot. He knows very little about his culture.”
I chuckle. “Not many of the younger generation do. But isn’t that the way everywhere?”
“It can be. Some embrace their heritage. Take me, for example. My father was Russian. He made sure I knew everything there was to know about the country and the culture. My mother, on the other hand, is Cajun and descended from former slaves. She has magic in her blood.”
