CREATURE

・chapter 15・

He had hell to pay.

He had fucking hell to pay.

Nobody, as in nobody, treated her like that. She belonged to herself, even when she played by someone else's rules, she belonged to herself. She ruled and regulated her entire life, and god knows that was probably what kept her sane through it all, but shit, he wasn't about to mistake her for some obedient lapdog.

Oh, hell no.

With her temper still running dangerously high from the little incident with Ivan she wound through the dinner tables and made her way to the lounge on the other side of the room. She picked up a glass of champagne on her way, smiling to herself as she noticed all the appreciative stares she attracted.

After dinner Bastian had deployed her and Katherine to do some networking, with Katherine making rounds at the main tables and Asya heading to the lounge area. With any luck the two ballerinas would bring in a few donors before the night was over, and if they managed to strike gold in the process, they might even find a personal sponsor or two.

It was part of the reason why the company's smaller tours were so sought after. They presented the chance to rub shoulders with the societal elite and triple her paycheck, if she played your cards right.

On that particular night Asya intended to do far more than just bat her eyelashes, her agenda was extensive, and she was out for blood. When she was angry she was absolutely lethal, and thanks to his timing, she was going to put that anger to good use. If she managed to find herself a well-connected sponsor she'd be less reliant on staying in Ivan's good graces to land roles, even if it would still take years to be completely independent of him.

And finally, she had every intention of making him really, really sorry for what he'd done.

She was dressed to kill in a room full of men who hadn't stopped looking at her since she arrived, and her final order of business would be reminding Ivan of what he wasn't getting that night. So help her if she went upstairs with Zharnov himself just to prove a point, but she was teaching Ivan a lesson he wouldn't forget anytime soon.

She came to a halt next to one of the tall windows, tucking her clutch under her arm to take a sip of her champagne. It was a beautiful late-autumn night, windless and totally serene other than the distant rumble of waves against the beach. She wondered if-

'Nastasia?' a voice asked from behind her.

Still sipping on her champagne she turned around to see who it was, and nearly choked on her drink.

It took her memory less than a split second to recall where she knew the young man from, even if they hadn't technically met in person. She was almost certain that it was the guy from the front row, the one she'd chosen to make eye-contact with during her solo and toyed with for her own amusement. To be fair it was rather dark at the time and she hadn't really had the chance to study him, but she knew his face, she was sure of it.

She must have looked totally shell-shocked, because before she could compose herself he was trying to put her at ease.

'I apologize for startling you.' he said sheepishly. 'I found your name in the programme.'

He held up the gala's folded programme and extended his hand to her. 'I'm Bradley.'

'Nastasia.' she introduced, shaking his hand. She briefly considered using her nickname, but decided against it given that she was still technically attending a work event.

'I just wanted to say you were absolutely incredible this afternoon.' Bradley continued. 'I'm not much of a ballet fan, but you were... Really something.'