Page 11 of Dark Muse


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Does she think I am not watching?

She has control of her emotions now.

I will let her maintain her defiance for now.

Chapter sixteen

Christianna

My hands tremble slightly as I lift the violin. I bite my lip, then my future maestro signals me in.

I play.

I let the fact that this is an audition, that I am being judged, fall away. There is only the music. I lose myself in it.

When the final note fades, he gives a small, approving nod.

Working under James Earl would be a dream.

Now I wait.

As I gather my things and start to head out I am stopped by my name being called.

“Christianna, wait.”

I turn to see Meg hurrying after me.

I smile tentatively and turn to face her. She wraps me in a warm hug and the familiarity and warmth wash over me.

“How have you been? Why are you so bad at responding to texts? I swear you need to get your introverted ass out more.”

I laugh as we fall into our old rhythm effortlessly.

“Want to get lunch and catch up?” she gushes. “I have so much to tell you.”

I’m about to answer when a deep male voice cuts in. “Miss Balleton, when you have a moment.”

I turn.

Tall. Dark. Handsome in a way that feels unintentional. Rich dark eyes, shaggy hair, and a presence that settles the space around him.

My breath hitches. What if he recognizes me? I deliberately turn away and give Meg a soft smile. “Text me. I’ll meet you.”

She grabs my arm lightly. “Remy, this is my friend Christianna. We were just heading out to lunch.”

Remy gives a brief nod, a small smile. Bright white teeth flash against olive skin.

There’s nothing overt in his expression, yet something about him commands attention. Quiet. Grounded. I find it harder than it should be to look away.

We earn a few suspicious looks as people pass us. I catch the furtive glances and low whispers that follow Remy. He doesn’t seem to notice. Or doesn’t care.

A sharp, demanding voice cuts through everything.

“There you are. What good is an assistant if I can’t find you?”

Meg exhales and rolls her eyes at me, then turns with a carefully blank expression.

“Mr. Leroux.”