LOGINWhile a glum Andrei sat with his lieutenants in one of the highly sought-after boxes at the Mirage, pondering his father's offer, on stage, under the dazzling spotlight, Holly Marie Anderson had none of his ninety-nine problems.
In fact, life was going swimmingly for her. And why wouldn't it? After all, she was the star of the show, and the only reason the theatre was packed to capacity for the second night in a row. Drunk on the awe and adoration of her fans, Holly had one job and one job only: to deliver yet another jaw-dropping, heart-thumping performance. And that's precisely what she did. To say she was on fire was an understatement. Hell, she'd spent a tough three months preparing for the show and survived countless hours of gruelling practice sessions and dress fittings before embarking on a whirlwind press tour. In the twelve weeks leading up to this moment, Holly had lived and breathed Juliet, so much so that sometimes she was terrified she'd have a hard time letting go of her when the season wrapped up. For the audience, though, not a sliver of her anxiety showed. From the iconic balcony kiss scene in Act I, set to one of the most intensely romantic scores in ballet history, to the violence erupting in the streets of Verona in Act II, and finally to the lovers' tragic misunderstanding in Act III, the crowd was utterly spellbound by her magic, captivated by her graceful movements. Every leap she took, every twirl she made, brought them to the brink of euphoric tears. Everything was coming up roses for Holly. Until it wasn't. Until the scene just before the final intermission, when a popping sound, as deafening as a gunshot, echoed through the theatre just as she took off on her feet and soared in the air in what would have been a flawless grand jeté if Lola Thornton hadn't stepped on the hem of her dress. Convinced the floorboards beneath her had given way, Holly felt her soul separate from her body. For a frightening moment she could only describe as an out-of-body experience, she could see herself, pure horror and confusion contorting her face as she flailed her arms, trying to grasp at anything just to break her fall. But the pain...the sharp, blinding pain shooting straight from her knee to every part of her battered body was all she could focus on as the force of gravity sucked her down, and she landed on the floor in a lacklustre move amidst the stunned gasps from the audience. Holly didn't have to be a surgeon to know she was screwed and couldn't possibly continue with the show. Not when her knee was a mangled mess. But she'd never been in the habit of quitting before curtain call. So, despite the mind-numbing pain, she danced on, praying she wasn't dragging Cooper down with her sluggishness. But, her dance partner—and occasional lover—covered up for her beautifully with his magnetic movements as he followed her lead in an improvised routine. It was chaos the minute the curtains slid in place for the intermission, obscuring the cast from the audience. Russel, the choreographer, lost his shit all over Lola as soon as they were in one of the dressing rooms backstage, screaming at her for her rookie mistake, while Cooper and a few members of the corps de ballet tended to Holly's injury. "It was an honest mistake. Do you think I wanted to step on her gown?" Lola screamed right back at Russel. "I don't know? Did you?" Russel fired back. "Are you suggesting I did this shit on purpose?" Lola demanded, getting up in Russel's face. "Guys," Holly quickly stepped in before things could get ugly. "It's okay, I'm fine. I'm sure it was an honest mistake, Russ." Russel glared at Lola for the longest time before spinning on his heel and exiting the room. Just then, Naomi Saunders, the show's technical director, rushed in, her narrow face taut with worry as she fired fifty million questions at Holly. Holly calmly answered them all, assuring her she'd finish the show, and her pain level was a three when, in actual fact, it was an eight. "Are you sure you can do this?" Naomi asked over and over. "I think we should get Dr Baker to check you out." "I'm fine, really. Stop stressing; you're making me anxious!" Holly insisted, breathing a sigh of relief when the costume and makeup guys stepped into the room to help her prepare for the final act. While everyone hovered around her, touching up her makeup and smoothing down her gown, her mind drifted back to the mishap on stage. Mistakes were not unheard of during performances. But Lola was a seasoned soloist, and there was absolutely no reason why she should have been in such close proximity to her...Unless...Unless... "No," Holly shook the notion out of her head, refusing to even entertain such a thought. "She wouldn't do it," she told herself over and over as Russel rounded everyone up for the final act. A short while later, Holly was back under the dazzling lights, moving the audience to tears with her final pas de deux with Cooper. The closing scene was the most gruelling mentally and physically for her. But fuelled by her crippling fear of failure, she powered through, and the moment the curtains slid in place for the last time, amidst the thunderous applause from the audience, she finally crumpled to the floor, wailing like a wounded animal as she clutched her knee while Cooper and the rest of the cast and crew fussed over her. "You are such an idiot," said Cooper, rocking her in his arms. "Why didn't you say you were in so much pain?" "So I can miss the chance to finish the show and let you hog the spotlight?" Holly teased, clenching her teeth when another wave of pain shot up her knee. "You know very well that I hate leaving stuff unfinished." "Well, you are still an idiot," he replied, brushing her hair away from her face. "Hang in there, okay? The paramedics are on the way. You'll be alright." "You are such a shitty liar, Coop," she smiled shakily. She wasn't going to be okay. And everyone knew it. Before Cooper could pacify her with more comforting words she didn't want or need, the paramedics rushed in through the back exit door, and everything after that was a blur for Holly as they loaded her on the stretcher and rushed her to the Mediclinic in Glen Eagles.Holly listened to the gentle hum of the car as Andrei drove away, only allowing herself to collapse against the kitchen island when she could no longer hear the roaring sound of the engine. She glanced at the almost-full bin, at all the food she'd just thrown out, and immediately regretted her decision to move out of the townhouse today. There was so much to do, and she reckoned clearing out the kitchen alone would take at least an hour. She didn't even want to think about her bedroom upstairs, or all the clothes in the guest room she'd turned into a walk-in closet. "Best get on with it," she muttered under her breath as she peeled herself away from the counter. She looked through the bottom cupboards, pulling out boxes of unopened appliances—from the pop-up toaster from her parents, to an air-fryer from Liam when she first moved in, to a Keurig from Willow, whose client had been generous enough to give her not one, but two coffee machines. She'd found the gifts totally unnecessary
“Milaya,” Andrei said softly a little over an hour later as he pulled up to the Sandown Mews boom gate, stopping at the security booth. “We’re here,” he continued, gently shaking her awake.“Goodness, did I fall asleep?” Holly asked, blinking at him.“You did,” he replied. She’d fallen asleep halfway into their trip, and as much as driving in silence was no fun—especially when he had so much on his mind—he hadn’t had the heart to wake her.“Why didn’t you wake me up?” she asked, rubbing her eyes before rummaging through her handbag.“You were tired,” Andrei replied as she handed him her access card. He tapped it on the reader, and a moment later, the gate yawned open.They sped up the quiet, tree-lined street, passing rows and rows of cookie-cutter townhouses. The last time Andrei was here, he’d been on a mission, so he’d barely had time to look around. But now he had plenty, and he found the whole set-up a tad disturbing. On the surface, everything in Sandown Mews looked almost utopi
Raymond had no sooner left than Bastian arrived. He rushed into the room, holding a serious-looking envelope in his hand, with three housekeepers hot on his trail. "Boss, there's an update on De Jager," he said, taking the seat the butler had just vacated. "Take a look at this," he added, handing over the envelope. Andrei peeked inside and waited until the housekeepers had cleared the table and neatened up the room before pulling out a handful of photographs. "What am I looking at?" he asked, scanning the CCTV images of his wife leaving her townhouse the day before. One of the images was the exact copy of the photograph Jaco had sent him. "De Jager didn't get close to Matushka," Bastian explained. "He paid the security guys at her place—" "I'm assuming the same way you did to get these photos?" Bastian nodded. "They couldn't let him through the complex without a valid reason, but he sweet-talked them into giving him the footage." "That bastard!" Andrei violently cursed, utter d
Since there was nothing Andrei could do about Clarke at this very moment, he decided to focus on the family business. "Where are we with Juan's missing men?" he asked, absently scanning the markets on the Business Insider app on his iPad. "Still no sign of them. They're bound to turn up soon, though," Igor replied. "I've got several crews working in shifts. They won't stop until we find the Mexicans." "Assuming they are still in Rock Castle," Andrei said, finally allowing himself to entertain a niggling thought that had been bothering him since their call with Juan. "They could be anywhere right now. They could be victims of a kidnapping scam. Maybe we should reach out to the Mozambicans—" "And say what?" Igor firmly shut him down. "Hand us the Mexicans, and we all go on our merry way? As if they would ever do that! Besides, we don't even know if they're involved." "They run the kidnapping trade," Andrei argued. "But so far, we don't have anything solid that points to a kidnappi
They lingered in the dining room for a while, with Holly attempting to reach her father several more times. Each time her calls went unanswered, something in Andrei died, and a terrifying darkness took residence in his heart. But no matter how many times Clarke rejected Holly's attempts to make things right with him, she refused to give up. Coming clean with him had quickly become her single most important purpose in life, for the foreseeable future at least. So all Andrei could do was sit helplessly and watch her desperately cling to the hope that her father would return her calls, both their hearts breaking a little more the longer the hands on the clock ticked on, and her phone remained dead silent.After twenty minutes of tense silence—twenty minutes of waiting for the phone to ring—Andrei finally had to call it."Milaya, he's not going to call back," he said, turning in his seat slightly to face her."No, he will." Holly shook her head stubbornly, her voice firm, her bottom lip j
"Give us the room," Andrei said, his voice low and commanding. Within seconds, the place was empty. His men and Marta scrambled out of the dining room, giving them all the privacy in the world. "Miss Anderson, are you okay?" Eric rushed to her side the moment they were left alone, turning her by the shoulders to look her over. "Did they hurt you?" Andrei stepped between them, getting directly in Eric's face. "Why the hell wouldn't she be okay? Are you suggesting I would hurt my own wife?" "Wife?" Miles was in total disbelief, his shock palpable. "What do you mean, your wife?" But it was the betrayed look in Eric's eyes that gutted Holly. "That's why you didn't want me at Sandown Mews last night," Eric said. "Because you were here the whole time? When did this happen, Miss Anderson? What did you do? Jesus, what do I tell your parents?" "You don't tell them anything, Eric," Holly said firmly. "I'll talk to them myself." "I'm afraid we can't do that. We have to call it in," Miles
"What do you mean Veronika is a diplomat?" Andrei asked once the shock had worn off. "She's a fucking Bratva princess. How the hell did she get a diplomat passport?" "You, more than anyone, should be able to answer that. You're marrying her in three weeks, aren't you?" retorted Norman, his tone ju
"Look," Andrei said after what seemed like an eternity of silence but could only have been a few moments. "This whole thing with Holly took me by surprise. At first, all I wanted was her help. But the more time I spent with her, the more I realised she's the one, and she was right in front of me al
"First time?" asked Thabo, Lev's mortuary technician friend. His brilliantly white teeth, as he smiled at Andrei, were a stark contrast to his smooth mahogany skin. "Hardly," Andrei replied and quickly shut his mouth, afraid if he didn't, the unbearably warm stench would creep into him and taint ev
Still reeling from all the shit he'd been through tonight alone, a dumbfounded Andrei could only stare at the container in his hand as he cycled through every emotion under the sun, from shock to disbelief to guilt. Weeks earlier, when Holly showed up here, high as a fucking kite, he suspected she







