Annette expected Anton to say something to her or ask what they’d talked about, but instead, he took the seat that Katya had been in only moments before and turned his attention back to the stage—that deeply concentrated attention. She may as well not have been there.
She found herself angry all of a sudden. While she hadn’t been able to initially work up much strong emotion about her captivity and all its implications, being outside in the real world, so close to actual help and freedom, brought up a deep well of anger that he would bring her here and ignore her and flirt and touch some other woman right in front of her. Like she was nothing and would be nothing to him. Just an acquisition, a novelty he’d clearly already grown tired of. She was sure he’d be bringing Katya to the ballet if she wasn’t actually in it.
Then the anger turned into tears sliding down her cheeks. She wiped them quickly away, but Anton must have heard her. He turned, a question on his face that turned into words mere moments later.
He leaned close. “Did Katya say something to upset you?”
Annette shook her head. “No.” She felt so stupid—like those silly girls she’d hated back in high school.
Anton’s expression hardened. “No, what?”
“No, Master,” she whispered.
She thought he might ask her something else. He seemed like he would, but then he simply nodded and turned back to the stage.
Annette tried to watch the ballet, but she couldn’t focus on anything but Anton and the way he wasn’t focusing on her. Finally, the lights came up and people began bustling and milling about the theater.
“I need to use the restroom,” Annette said, even though it was a lie. She’d gone on the plane.
“It’s down the hallway to your right.”
He didn’t follow her out.
48
Anton watched her leave the box. He knew it was unwise to trust her this soon—to give her this much free reign. She could go find help. Her sister could be in protective custody well before Brian could act out any threat Anton had made.
The truth was, he didn’t want to control her with threats. And maybe some sick part of him wanted to get caught. They hadn’t brought a single girl to the house to train, and already this was a shit show. Brian would never give the idea up. Lindsay seemed equally committed. It would be so much simpler to just get caught and shut the whole operation down before it got a chance to get off the ground—before they’d committed more crimes and the stakes were even higher.
By this point, it was clear to Anton that Brian was going to kill people. He’d wanted to kill three people already. It had taken a delicate dance to keep that from happening. But at some point, the line would be crossed. Anton wasn’t sure he could live with that, even if he wasn’t the one doing the killing.
While he thought about all this, Katya returned to the box. With Annette gone, she spoke English. “Where did Annette go?”
“Ladies' room,” Anton said. “You know your understudy is shit. Really terrible. She’s practically tripping all over her feet on stage. The whole performance feels… congested. She doesn’t float like you do.”
Color bloomed out over her face at the compliment.
“It was too soon to put her on stage for a part so big,” Katya agreed. “The director is livid. He’s yelling at her backstage. I wish he’d let me dance. I’m fine.”
“No,” Anton said. “You are not fine. You turn your foot wrong just once, and that ankle will go again. You can’t afford it.”
Katya flopped into Annette’s chair in the least graceful movement Anton had seen from her. “The director is putting someone else in for the second act.”
“But not you?” Anton said.
“No, you don’t have to worry.”
“Good.”
“I thought you came to see me dance,” she pouted.
“I did.”
“But you don’t want me to dance now.”
“I don’t want you hurt,” he said as if that should be obvious. “There will be other performances. You will dance for me for a long time.”
“I miss you.”
Anton sighed. He knew this was coming. He hadn’t seen her since the night they’d taken things beyond his voyeuristic love affair with her movements on the stage. There had been a quiet flirtation between them for years, and when it had finally culminated in a physical act, it had been clear almost from the start—at least to Anton—that this was just not meant to be.
There had been a party much like the one happening tonight. It hadn’t taken long for their incompatibilities to become clear.
“It’s not natural with us, Katya, and you know it.”
“I could do better. I could try.”
“No. It’s not in you. You like casual in-the-bedroom play only. You like a game. And I’m not playing.”
“I don’t want to play with you. I made a mistake. I was nervous. Just give me one more chance to please you.”
“You know I have someone now.”
“I know, but… you can only have one? I wouldn’t get in the way of you two, you know I wouldn’t.”
“That’s not the point, and you know it. My relationship with Annette is still new. And you have to tour. I don’t want a part time fling with you after shows. I want someone who is really mine.”
Katya had turned her attention to the light pink gown she wore—what Anton always thought of as ballet pink. She couldn’t seem to ever get away from it even if she wasn’t on stage or in the studio. “And she’s really yours?” she asked, pushing and wheedling, trying to find the loophole that would land her back at his feet.
“Yes, she’s really mine.” It was true, and it wasn’t true. Maybe it was why he’d given her the freedom to go to the bathroom alone—the chance to escape. Because he wanted to know she was in this with him. He wanted both to own her fully and completely with no way out, and also for her to want the same arrangement. Even as he thought it, Anton knew these things were impossible.
He’d only really had her for a day, but how could this possibly work if she wasn’t kinky? And yet, Annette felt like his in a way Katya couldn’t and in a way even his last full-time sub hadn’t. The difference was that he held the power of life and death over Annette. He didn’t like that this was what excited him—knowing he could do whatever he wanted with her with no limits beyond his own conscience.
That kind of power was intoxicating. He’d spent years trying to get to that feeling and place with all the games and even a couple of full time subs at various points, but it was never enough. Nothing had been enough until now.
Katya was a bit in love with him. If he’d given her a chance—despite her travel schedule—they could have made something work. But it was never going to be the absolute power he had with Annette. It would always feel empty and incomplete. It would always leave him hungry for more.
And yet, what had he done? Like a fool, he’d let the one thing he’d wanted go. Annette had to know that was what he was doing. There was no way she was coming back. Why would she? She’d probably called her sister as soon as she’d reached the lobby. She could be in a cab to anywhere by now.