“Really. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“Have a beer,” Andrius says.
She shakes her head. “No thanks, but I’ll have a juice, and sit with you both a while. You’re a dick, Bohdan.”
I nod because what can I say?
By the time K gets back, Andrius and I have had a couple of beers, and Cassie is back to being more of her usual sunny self. K doesn’t knock either; no one here seems to. He marches right into the kitchen. I tense. Is he going to go in for round two? I wouldn’t blame him if he did.
Instead, he looks to me and shakes his head. “Bohdan, I’m sorry, okay?”
“Pretty sure I should be the one apologizing,” I mumble.
“No, if you’d have tried to take Cassie away from me, I’d have done the same,” K says. “But she wanted to go, and this way, she’s going to be where we can keep track of her, where Ilya and Amber can make sure she’s okay.”
“What did you do?” Cassie asks.
“Nothing, but Damen can track her via her phone. Because I helped her leave, she’s accepted letting a friend of mine pick her up at the airport and sort a hotel out for her and her mother for a few weeks. That friend is Ilya. Your ballerina is in good hands, Bohdan. You can breathe, okay?”
“I kind of can’t,” I joke. “Think you cracked a rib or two.”
He winces. “Sorry.”
“You’re all crazy,” Cassie grouches.
Yes, we are. Now though, I have hope again that if I take Andrius’ advice, Dasha still might be mine.
Chapter Twenty-five
Dasha
Amber, or Amanda as she told me she was really called, is the most glamorous woman I’ve ever seen. She looks like an old-school movie star. Ilya, well, he’s plain scary. Konstantin levels of scary.
I’m having lunch with Amanda, and Ilya has popped into the room twice. His house is incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it.
The opulence is wonderful, and the décor is a heady mix of old and new, with the most stunning colors and fabrics. Their pool is to die for. I saw it for the first time last week, and my first thought was that Bohdan would probably hate it, and then I felt sad because he wasn’t here to see it.
So many things here remind me of him, but so much is new. I don’t live in a cheap flat in a concrete block now. I’m staying in a luxury hotel amid the old town. I dine with mob bosses and their movie star lookalike, ex-stripper girlfriends.
The city is wonderful, and I have something to focus on. I’m going to do a show, a finale to my career if you will. Lilliana organized it for me. It will be a series of solo performances, culminating in The Dying Swan. One night in St. Petersburg, one in London, New York, Milan, Berlin, and then finally, five nights in Paris. After the show, I need to figure out where to settle down so I can send for the rest of my babies. I miss my cats so badly.
I’m getting paid a ridiculous amount of money to do the tour, so finances won’t be an issue. Lilliana has become a friend, and I talk to her often on FaceTime. Last night we were chatting when she said to me that she hoped I could work it out with Bohdan. She said she watched us the night we all had dinner, in Paris, which seems like forever ago now. He loves me, she said.
I told her that Jasper thought she liked Bohdan. She laughed and said of course she noticed his looks, who wouldn’t, but that she loved her husband. She said that he might be older than her, and not handsome, but he was kind, loving, and interesting. Finding someone who interests you is so important, she told me.
As Amanda and I finish up our meal, Ilya comes into the room. “Amanda, may I have a few moments with Dasha?” he asks in his deep baritone.
She glances at me, and I nod.
Amanda leaves us, and Ilya takes a seat opposite me. He drums his fingers on the table for a moment. “You know that your mother told Igor about Bohdan and his uncle skimming from the top?”
I nod.
“Do you know why she did it?”
I nod again. “She thought she was saving me from Bohdan. Her actions were reprehensible, but she was scared for me.”
He smiles at me gently. “No, Dasha, that’s not why she did it. She did it for