Chapter Three

The music hit first.

A slow swell of brass and piano rolled through the theater while the curtain stayed drawn, teasing the audience with anticipation.  Behind it, under the heat of backstage lights and the smell of hairspray, I stood frozen in position like a loaded weapon waiting to fire.

Then the spotlight snapped on.

The crowd erupted.

I stepped onto the stage in six-inch heels and enough rhinestones to blind someone under direct lighting.  Feathers brushed against my bare shoulders as I moved in formation beside the other dancers.  Our smiles were polished bright enough to hide every bruise, blister, and bad decision that had brought us to Las Vegas.

People think showgirls are just beautiful women in glitter. 

They don't understand the performance.

The discipline.

The way your body has to become music before the audience even notices you.

Every movement needed precision.  Every turn had to look effortless.  The audience wasn't supposed to see the hours of rehearsals that left our feet bleeding or the exhaustion hidden behind false lashes and red lipstick.  They were supposed to see a fantasy.

And under those lights, fantasy was easy to become. 

The orchestra swelled louder as I kicked my leg high beside the line of dancers, the crowd clapping in rhythm while gold confetti cannons exploded near the stage.  Heat rolled across my skin beneath the sequins of my costume.  My pulse synced with the music.

This feeling was bliss, but it wasn't enough.

I spun across the stage with a dazzling smile painted on my lips while men in tailored suits watched from the tables below.  Women tilted champagne glasses toward the stage while camera flashes sparkled through the dark theater like tiny lightning strikes. 

Vegas worshipped beauty.  And tonight, beauty wore feathers and diamonds.

But no matter how hard I focused on the choreography, my eyes kept drifting toward the private owner's box above the theater floor.

Toward him.

Luca Moretti sat alone in the shadows of the balcony like a king watching over his empire.  One arm rested lazily against the chair while the stage lights occasionally caught the sharp line of his jaw, or the expensive watch glinting against his wrist.

He looked calm.

Elegant.

Untouchable.

Like he hadn't murdered a man less than twenty-four hours ago.

My stomach tightened as our eyes locked across the theater.

And then he smiled.

Not a polite smile.

Not a casual one.

A slow, devastating smile that made heat climb straight up my throat.

The kind of smile that said I see you, Sienna.

Good.  Look at me.  I will be your downfall, your majesty.

Every kick suddenly felt higher.  Every spin became sharper.  My entire body became painfully aware of itself beneath his attention.  I danced harder, brighter, faster - like some desperate part of me wanted to impress him.

I needed him to notice me.

I needed him to want me.

I needed this plan to work.

Luca Moretti was dangerous, but under the lights of the theater and with music roaring through my veins, danger started feeling a lot like desire.

Our performance concluded, and I made my way back down to the dressing room.  The other dancers quickly changed and filtered out of the dressing room while I stayed behind.  I peeled away my showgirl persona piece by piece.

Each earring was stored safely in a jewelry box.

My shoes were placed neatly on a shelf.

My large feathered headdress was set back on the mannequin. 

Finally, I slipped out of my heavy jewel-encrusted costume and placed it on a hanger.

I pulled my white satin robe up over my shoulders just as a criminally smooth voice spoke from the darkness across the room. 

"You look just as lovely inside that costume as you do out of it."

He was here.  

Good.

I quickly went through my character checklist in my head.

1. I don't know who he is.

2. I need to make him feel safe and secure with me.

3. I need him to think I am just a helpless showgirl.

4. Then I need to make it impossible for him to tell me no.

I spun around on my heels, pulling my robe closed to create a sense of modesty.

"My mysterious man from last night.  I wasn't expecting you down here.  Audience isn't allowed in the dressing room."

He took a few steps towards me, shadows catching the sculpted lines beneath his suit

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly a regular audience member."

I tilted my head to the side and gave him my best innocent smile.

"Was that you sitting in the balcony then?  I have never seen anyone sit in that section before."

I took a few steps back to my mirror and sat down.  I reach behind my neck for the clasp of my necklace.  Luca quickly stepped behind me and took over that job.  Electricity shot through me when our hands touched together.

"I wish I had seen the show before tonight, it was spectacular.  A perfect blend of old Vegas and modern luxury."

He removed my necklace and leaned in to place it in my hand.  Then his hands found their way to my shoulders.

"I think you should have a more featured role." He whispered into my ear.

"I am just happy to be in the show." 

I acted like his attention didn't affect me, even though it absolutely did.  He ran his hands down from my shoulders to the tops of my arms, and I could feel a heat grow inside of me.

"Maybe I could speak with the director."

I moved from the chair and perched myself on the edge of the vanity.  I bit my bottom lip while I smiled.

"And what could a mystery man like you do for me?"

Luca moved the chair aside and filled in the space between the two of us, boxing me in with his arms.  He moved his face closer to mine, but I pulled away.

"Maybe it's time I ruined the mystery." He said playfully.  His lips brushed against the skin of my cheek as he moved in closer to my ear.

"My name is Luca Moretti.  I own this whole place."

Jackpot.

I rolled my head back, and Luca lowered his mouth to my neck.  His lips were ready to plant kisses up and down my body.

"Luca.  My mystery man from last night." I whispered to the sky.

"But let's not talk about me." He said, his breath warm against my neck.

"No, let's talk about what happened in the Velvet Suite instead."