“Don’t worry, Grandmother. I have no intention of letting her go.”
“Shush,” Emmeline hissed while my mother laughed. It was good to see her laughing, happy for once. It had been a long road since the death of our father, her husband that she’d adored with all her heart. “The ballet is about to start.”
In the weeks since our return to New Orleans, business had been incredible. We’d also had no issues in handling Carmine. I’d heard he and his family had left the city, which meant he was lucky to be alive. While my beautiful ballerina didn’t need to know, Marco had been handled.
Permanently.
I’d seen such strength in her when she’d confronted the woman she’d believed to be her mother and the man her father had trusted the most. Through use of our computer experts, we’d discovered that Luciano had tried to steal from the family fortune, developing a nest egg to share a new life with Francesco’s grieving wife. They’d been arrested, the money returned to the rightful owner. Anastasia.
She was a very rich and very powerful woman, but all she wanted to do was dance. Who was I to deny her?
I’d seen my lovely ballerina practice, including in the makeshift studio in my house that would soon be turned into a full-fledged rehearsal studio. She was magnificent.
But nothing like she was tonight. The contemporary performance was incredible, so much so I was on the edge of my seat watching her.
When a full two hours had gone by and the final piece shifted into a crescendo, I was breathless. The moment she dropped to her knees, I was on my feet.
So was the rest of the audience, including every family member. The cheering was wild, so amazing for the entire team of dancers.
But Anastasia would always be the star.
I grabbed the flowers even before she was off the stage, rushing from the box with Zorro following me.
We made it to the dressing room before any of the dancers made it off stage. I was panting by the time I was inside, Zorro harrumphing beside me.
“Don’t laugh at me, buddy. This is a special night, so I don’t want to hear it.” I placed the flowers on the dressing table and of course they filled the entire space.
Now we waited.
Five minutes passed.
Then another five.
Where the hell was she?
I glanced down at Zorro. As soon as I did, his ears perked up in the same question. What if something happened to her? I was ready to bolt out the door when it was pitched open, a laughing girl rushing inside.
Not just any laughing girl. My girl.
As soon as she saw me, she stopped cold, the two other dancers behind her giving her a shove for a sendoff because walking away.
“You’re here,” Anastasia said. “I guess I wasn’t certain you would come.”
“Where else would I be? The entire family is here.”
“They are?”
I nodded, taking another step closer. “You’re family now. Whether you like it or not.”
“So possessive.”
“Yes, I am.”
Zorro interrupted us, rushing forward, his entire backside wiggling.
“Oh, baby boy. My sweet boy,” she cooed, bending over and lavishing him with attention.
He was all over her, adoring the attention. Meanwhile, I was waiting as patiently as possible, which wasn’t an attribute I had around her.
