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her at the party. Her poorly disguised relief got her a chuckle and an eye roll.

Inside the shower, I planned everything all out. From the way my heart fluttered, you’d

think I was about to confess my undying love. In some cases, it seemed that way. I had no

idea where my decision would take me or how much of my life would be spent with Vicious.

All I knew was I needed to take more pictures of Luka. I felt it in my gut. I had to peel away the thousand and one layers covering him until I met the real Luka Visraya.

In my plan, I would bring Luka out on one of the terraces—as private as the party would

allow. Then, right as the fireworks light up the sky, I would tell him I accept his proposal for extending my contract. Of course, I needed to graduate first. From what I understood from

Luka’s offer of an extension, I could finish up all my requirements, graduate then meet up

with the band while they were on tour.

I spent the whole time applying my makeup giddy and excited. As I dabbed blush on my

cheeks—contouring the way Calixta had taught me during the video shoot—I barely quelled

the urge to run up to the top floor of the manor and shout my decision for the world to hear.

Well, those who’d arrived at the party early, anyway.

Never had a choice felt so right. Every little detail fell into place. I already imagined the

shoots around the world I would put together with the band. Exotic locations, beautiful

backdrops, and Vicious in all of them. Glorious. I sighed as I glided lip gloss over my rouged mouth. I smacked my lips together, batted my eyelashes enhanced by three layers of mascara,

and pushed away from the vanity. I dropped my robe, leaving it to pool on the floor, and

removed the dress from its garment bag.

When it came time to zip the heavy monster up, I met the same problem. The zipper

stopped at the center of my back, refusing to go any further. Needing help, I walked out onto

the terrace and marched toward Luka’s quarters. The chill of the night air bit into my exposed shoulders. I pressed the semi-open dress to my chest so the girls wouldn’t fall out. The skirt molted behind me, leaving a trail of black feathers in my wake. I silently prayed I wouldn’t

look like a bald ostrich by midnight.

At Luka’s terrace doors, I spotted him walking out of his room attaching a cufflink to his

left cuff. My stomach did a triple axel. If it were an ice skater even the French judge would

take notice. Excitement zinged under my skin. I inhaled the brisk air and prepared myself to

enter the living room where he currently stood in a tux sans the jacket. The mask I’d used for the shoot on the coffee table. I had to push aside what
that
made me feel or I wouldn’t last through the night.

Luka hadn’t noticed me yet, so I opened my mouth to say his name. The door to his room

burst open. Demitri rushed in like an enraged bull in a perfectly tailored tux of his own. He

grabbed Luka’s shirt front and growled at him.

“How dare you put her through that,” he said in measured words, baring his teeth. His

nostrils flared. “You know she can’t handle that kind of stress.”

I covered my mouth and took a step back. My hummingbird heartbeats quickly shifted

gears into panicked double beats. The darkness outside shielded me from them.

“This is not the time and place, cousin,” Luka replied in an equally measured tone.

“Oh yeah?” Demitri shook his cousin. “You really think you can dictate the terms when the

woman I love is involved?”

“Yes…yes, I can.” Luka tilted his head and grinned. “You really want to start a fight on the

night Yana spends most of the year preparing for?”

With a disgusted grimace, Demitri let Luka go with a push. Luka—with an uncanny sense

of balance—maintained his stance with just a small step back. He smoothed out the wrinkles

caused by Demitri’s beefy fists as if the other guy hadn’t threatened bodily violence against

him.

I couldn’t understand where the tension between them came from. Definitely Demitri

meant Phoenix when he mentioned the woman he loved. Could this have anything to do with

the argument I’d inadvertently witnessed between Luka and Phoenix? It did explain how

weird they were both acting afterward.

“I have way too much self-respect to punch you out right now. But don’t get me wrong,

your face has a date with my fist.” Demitri pulled at his tux jacket to settle it back in place on his shoulders then he pointed at Luka. “If you ever make her uncomfortable again, I swear to

you, cousin, this relationship we have is over.”

Without waiting for Luka to respond, Demitri turned on his heel and strode out of the

living room in ground eating strides. Breathing to calm my erratic heartbeats, I entered

Luka’s quarters in careful steps. As Demitri left, Luka had bowed his head and ran frustrated

fingers through his curls, messing up the gelled order.

“What was that about?” I asked, still holding my dress to my chest.

Luka’s gaze whipped up and for a second I caught a glimmer of panic there before he

blinked it away. “It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me. Demitri was about to hit you.”

The Luka shutdown commenced with a maddening shrug. “Did you want something from

me?”

I flicked a glance at the door Demitri had left open. Just because I decided to extend my

contract didn’t mean I had exclusive rights to the business between the cousins. If Luka

didn’t trust me enough to avoid changing the subject then it was no skin off my back.

Although, a part of me did make a promise that I would one day earn that trust. If I wanted to get through to the real Luka, I had to earn his trust.

So, seeing that I wouldn’t be getting answers to what I’d almost walked into tonight, I gave

Luka my back. “Can you zip me up?”

On silent feet, Luka reached me in two breaths. He ran his fingers up my arms and

deposited a kiss on my bare shoulder. “Can I just say that you look beautiful in that dress?”

“Nice distraction, mister.” I grinned at him over my shoulder. “Don’t think I’d let go of

knowing what you and Demitri were fighting about because of a couple goose bump raising

kisses.”

He smiled against my skin. “Just goose bumps?”

“Well…” I reached behind us so I could squeeze the back of his neck. He pulled me closer

so my back was flush against his front. “The rest of it involves getting out of this dress.”

“That could be arranged.”

I felt the zipper go down instead of up. Not wishing to be late to the party, I stepped out of his reach and wagged a finger at him. “Bad, Luka!”

He snorted. “No fair.”

“We don’t always get what we want, now do we?”

Instead of the smirk I expected to come with my joke, Luka’s expression fell. I turned in a

small circle to face him and cradled his cheeks in my hands. We stayed that way until he met

my gaze. He circled my waist with his hands and rested his forehead against mine. We shared

the same air for several breaths.

“Sometimes I forget just how beautiful you are.”

The corners of my red lips pulled up. “I must not be all that beautiful if you forget.”

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” He pressed a quick kiss on my lips. “Anyone who says

otherwise I will shoot and bury in the woods.”

“Despite the creepy connotation, I will accept that compliment. Now,” I looked into his

blue eyes again, “zip me up and let’s enjoy this party.”

In one flick of his wrist, Luka cocooned me in my dress. My breath hitched at the pinch of

the leather corset. How could I have forgotten the torture this dress brought? Only the

hunger in Luka’s gaze made wearing the thing worth it.

Before he could make good on physically undressing me the way his eyes promised, I

backed away. “Thanks for the zip up. I just need to grab my mask from my room and reapply

my lipstick. I’ll see you at the party.”

Luka nodded, but within the depths of his eyes an unexplainable sadness grew. At the back

of my mind, I knew I should have returned to him and drew him into my arms. Unfortunately

for him, the revelry already underway below us distracted me.

***

attached to a stick. It had feathers that matched my dress. I would have worn the kind of

mask with a ribbon to tie behind the back of my head, but my patch wouldn’t allow it.

Taking a deep breath and preparing for the stares that usually came with strangers seeing

my patch for the first time, I took the grand staircase a step at a time. It would have been cool if my movements were for dramatic effect, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. With

such a heavy skirt, the last thing I needed was to embarrass myself by falling.

Keeping the mask pressed up against my face with one hand, I used the other for support

on the banister. Guests arrived via the massive front doors, greeted by someone in a

harlequin costume of checkered black and white and a golden staff.

When Yana said the theme was carnevale, the guests dressed for the occasion. Flowing

gowns for the ladies and elegant suits for the men. All of them sporting elaborate masks. A

riot of color and a mix of cloying perfumes added to the ambiance of celebration. Excitement

crackled in the air. Guys whooped and women giggled. Several waiters dressed as jesters

stood by the door with platters of champagne. Once invitations were checked, guests lifted

flutes off the tray, immediately bringing the bubbly to their lips. The underlying theme of the night? Getting hammered before midnight. A race I had no intension of participating in.

Gift bags bursting with rice paper and ribbons replaced the mini Christmas town on the

central round table. A list of the items inside sat on an easel beside the table. My eye popped when I scanned through. A platinum and diamond tennis bracelet? The latest smart phone? A

spa vacation? I didn’t need alcohol to be buzzed. The cost of the gift bags went straight to my head.

Having had enough of the foyer, I veered left to the main room. The mystery of the

gondolas finally revealed itself. The curved boats resembled cornucopias. I didn’t know how

they did it, but four large gondolas overflowed with food. The fifth and sixth that bookended

the food were used as makeshift bars. Shirtless masked bartenders filled out the drink orders.

I half expected a ten piece band. Instead, a DJ spun wicked beats. Not exactly going with

the carnevale theme, but when Yana threw a party, she threw a damn party. The scene

brought me back to my club covering days. I lifted my camera and captured every interesting

second.

Couples danced on the furniture-lite main room. I had no idea women could grind in full-

length ball gowns before. At first I thought a smoke machine gave the floor its misty effect

until my glance landed on the large buckets of dry ice. Did Yana mean for the smoky floor to

mimic the waters of Venice? At least they didn’t pipe in a sewer-y smell I’d read about.

Jugglers and acrobats performed around the dancers, weaving in and out of the crowd,

drawing applause above the blasting techno. The end of the room opened to the biggest

terrace of the manor where fire breathers and scantily clad fire dancers regaled the stragglers who’d rather spend the night outside.

I spotted Dray standing to one side of the room and made my way to him. A mime

accosted me along the way, but I did my best Russian-accented English and said, “In my

country, we shoot mimes on the spot.” The poor guy blanched beneath his white make up and

backed away.

Feeling good about myself, I sidled close to Dray and treated him to a toothy smile. “My,

how handsome you look today, Dray.”

In a tux similar to the one Demitri and Luka wore, Dray adjusted the black domino mask

on his face—a light flush spread beneath it at my compliment. “Did you know Carnevale in

Italy was traditionally a period when roles were reversed? Men and women, nobility and

commoners.”

I grinned because how could I not? “That’s really cool to know.”

Being with Dray calmed some of my nerves. The longer we discussed all the facts he knew

about Carnevale—which was a hell of a lot—the more I knew I had to stay with Vicious. I

didn’t want to miss Dray and his facts or Phoenix and her bubbly personality or Demitri’s big

brother wisdom. Yana would work me to the bone, I knew this, but I wouldn’t mind if it

meant I could spend more time with the band I now considered family. And Luka…we had

unfinished business.

What a change a month made.

“You are not drinking,” Dray leaned in and said. We’d lapsed into a comfortable silence,

watching people get drunker by the hour.

“Nah.” I shook my head. “I don’t want alcohol to cloud the fun I’m having.”

“But you’ve been standing with me all this time. Surely I’m not that exciting to be with.”

“Are you kidding me? This is the most fun I’ve had at a party in a long time.”

Another blush colored Dray’s precious face. I just wanted to reach up and pinch his

cheeks. He gestured at the dance floor and asked, “Do you want to dance?”

“I’m not really a dancer.” I touched my patch and he nodded.

“Don’t worry. I will lead.” He handed my mask to one of the waiters, took my hand, and led

me to the floor. A hip hop type of waltz played in the background. There may be a DJ but the

music still resembled what might play at a straighter-laced party.

“Waltz remix,” I told Dray above the music and cheering.