Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 143870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
Back then, my life felt like it was finally coming together. I had everything a woman in my position could hope for—a fiancé I didn’t hate, a dream come to fruition, and a life that looked brighter than it ever had. But when my illusions shattered and it all went up in smoke, all that remained was the one thing nobody could ever take from me.
When I came to Seattle, I had to start fresh without referencing most of my dance background. It was too risky to get into anything with publicity, so when I found Burlesque at a private club for members only, I knew it was my path forward.
It gave me back my confidence and the opportunity to build a new life. And while some people like to discount what I do, they don’t understand the amount of hard work and dedication it took to get where I am.
Nobody handed me anything. I started out dancing in the chorus, and I dedicated three years perfecting my craft before I was ever given the chance to showcase my skills as a feature act. But the work doesn’t stop when I step off the stage. I have group and solo rehearsals, physical therapy, strength training, barre, yoga, and Pilates. Then there are the fittings and costume prep, hair and makeup tests, prop work, music, choreography, lighting, and persona development.
For the last six years, it’s been my life. I’ve earned a prime time slot and a steady income that’s provided what I need. But every dancer has a shelf life, and deep down, I knew pushing my body would catch up with me.
Still, leaving it all behind now feels like a loss I’m not ready to face.
“How long do you think I have realistically?” I ask Mariella.
“I can’t give you a timeline. But if you don’t make the choice yourself, your body will eventually make it for you.”
I nod, accepting it for what it is. It might not be what I wanted to hear, but it’s reality.
“I’ll start thinking about my options,” I tell her. “How long do you think I need off for right now?”
“At least a few days. In the meantime, keep it iced and elevated. You can bear weight as tolerated. Just try not to overdo it.”
“Okay.” I blow out a breath, already knowing Victor won’t be happy with me taking anything more than that.
Until I have something else lined up, I’m not willing to risk my income. I have money saved, but I don’t want to dip into that. That’s my emergency fund, and there may come a day when I’ll need every penny of it to escape.
“Looks like you’re off the hook.” I glance up at Cristian. “Doctor’s orders, I can walk on my own.”
He gives me a dry look, and I rush to say something else before we have another staring contest. “I’ll take your jacket off too, once you take Antonella.”
“You can give it to me later.”
His eyes roam over me, observing the way it swallows me whole. And for one fleeting moment, he’s not looking at me like he’s perpetually unimpressed by my very existence.
I’m not inclined to believe he’s let go of his dislike for me completely, but it seems like we’ve bridged some of the gap at least.
After a beat, he leans down and extracts Antonella from my arms. As he rises, she settles her head against his chest and lets out a soft exhalation when he rubs her back. I have to tell my hormones to calm down, because right now they’re volunteering my uterus to carry his heirs.
Jesus, I think I just lost my last brain cell.
I should not be having these thoughts about Cristian. Not only are they highly inconvenient, he’s off-limits and most definitely a bad idea.
But, honestly, it can’t be helped. Seeing any of the Vitale brothers with Nella is biological warfare. There’s something so primal about watching men who are natural-born protectors interact with a child. Cristian may have a reputation for being cold and calculating, but he’s gentle and attentive to Nella in a way I never would have expected if I hadn’t witnessed it myself.
I have no doubt he’ll be a good father if he does end up marrying. Though, when I try to imagine him with that woman from the party, my mind rejects the idea.
I’m grateful when Cristian carries Antonella from the room, so I can stop thinking about it entirely. But when I glance over, I find Mariella watching me.
“You’re good with her,” she says. “Do you ever think about having any of your own?”
“All the time.” The words spill out before I can stop them.
I’ve never admitted that out loud before. Maybe it’s the exhaustion of the day, or maybe it’s just that Mariella gets me in a way others don’t.