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Something about how he says it rings like a warning bell in my head. Unless it’s someone who doesn’t belong here.

“Try me.”

His lips brush my ear and my body cringes at his nearness. He’s cute, but all I can think about is the ballerina in these halls, and she needs me.

“A Bruno.”

Oh, cool, so he’ll be the first person I kill for Valentina.

Clearing my throat, I look to the other performers. No one is paying attention, lost in their own worlds. Some are high, others are coming out of the headspace needed to perform. No one cares about two guys conversing on a couch.

Good.

“No way,” I drawl, tapping his knee. “That’s a big deal. Must be an excellent partner.”

His chest puffs up. “I am. And get this, it’s for her virginity.”

A flash of red haunts my vision, and I hang on tight to the rage. Her virginity—my girl’s virginity?

I think about Gabe’s cryptic bullshit message—Valentina’s stipulations for marriage. I pored over the contract, reading every line twice. She had to remain pure before marriage—no alcohol, tobacco, or sex.

I helped her break the alcohol rule, and I watched her on screen actively smoke when things became too hard to handle. She was here to put the final nail in the coffin. If she loses her virginity, she can no longer marry. Anyone.

Swallowing my fury, I crack a strained smile. “You’re getting that? Fucking lucky.”

“Right?” He slaps my chest fondly. “Listen, it’s going to happen in a few minutes. If you’re not busy, you could come watch.”

My jaw clenches, and my stomach flips. “Watch?”

“Oh yeah,” he says, oblivious to my wrath. I’m going to break every bone in his body. “She needed to do it in a big way. Audience and all that. It had to be a show.” He shrugs, holding out his hand. “It’ll be hot as fuck. She’s a tiny thing with a set of killer legs. With you watching, shit, I might not last.”

He certainly won’t.

I let the smile grow, throwing as much charm into it. I want to skin every piece of skin off his body and then throw him into the harbor, but I can’t. Not yet.

He’s taking me to Valentina. And then, I’m taking his spot.

“I’d love that.”

Tommaso grins and waves me forward. Out into the hall, he leads me down a long corridor; the place is basically deserted. No one walks by; the music is almost silent, except for a few chords caught over the shuffling of our feet. We turn right, finding an opaque glass box in front of us.

Folding chairs are in front of it, with a handful of men facing the window. A knee bounces, another shifts, someone clears a throat. All eyes are on the cloudy walls.

“This is it,” he whispers. He drags a finger over the lining of my corset. “We have a few minutes if you want…”

He trails off, and I crack my neck.

“Exactly what I was thinking.” A few paces further into the maze is a side door. It’s blended into the wall, but with his card, it pops open. It’s a storage closet with cleaning supplies, bags, and mops.

At least it’s hygienic.

Tommaso enters before me, clutching his zipper.

“I can’t be late, but if you⁠—”

Grabbing the back of his neck, I slam him forward, kicking the door closed behind me. The sheer force of his body collapses a rack, chemicals raining down on him. The pungent odor tickles my nose.

Groaning, he pushes himself up, but he slips. “What the fuck⁠—”