The Heirs: Fated Heirs

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Ariana

I walk down the hall of the fine arts building with my hands shaking. It's the first day of my contemporary studio and I feel beyond nervous. It doesn't help when I spot Madame Aubuert standing outside one of the practice rooms, her eyes roving over me in judgment.

"Ariana Donnelly – what a disappointment," she huffs.

I swallow and focus all my power on ignoring her.

I know she's wrong. And it's like Sophie always says, confidence is key – fake it till you make it. I straighten my shoulders and don't satisfy Madame by responding. Instead, I push open the studio door where I'm greeted by over a dozen blatant stares.

Someone whispers something and I hear, "Chicago Mafia."

I clear my throat and find a spot for my dance bag.

"Ariana, welcome!" a somewhat friendly voice with a thick Irish accent greets me. "We were so pleased to hear you'd be joining us this semester. Hafsa Byrn, nice to meet you." The woman, who appears to be in her mid-thirties holds out her hand to me, her eyes crinkling with a smile.

"Nice to meet you," I smile as I shake her hand.

Hafsa has a sleeve of tattoos and doesn't look at all bothered by the fact that a ballerina is joining her ranks.

She claps her hands together and takes us through warm-ups.

I've been dancing contemporary casually for years, but this will still be an adjustment. I focus as hard as I can on keeping up with the group, and after class, I feel good about it. No one really talked to me much, but that's okay. They'll take some warming up. I'm no stranger to dance politics.

I head back to the dorm and quickly get ready for the gambling club tonight. Sophie, Tate, and Imogen have planned a big event. One of our biggest yet. I know that tonight is important for our group to get information.

I get to the Reeve Club, the chess club where we host the gambling club, early. Fiadh Malone, a Callahan loyalist, and George St. Clair – a Sophie Donnelly loyalist – are setting up the event when I get there. They're laughing about something and their laughter turns to quiet giggles as I approach.

It's no secret that sweet George St. Clair has a thing for chess grand master, Fiadh Malone. I smirk at them.

"What can I help with?"

"Bar needs organized," Fiadh nods over towards the old mahogany bar that's probably as old as the island itself. I don't know much about setting up a bar, but I roll up the sleeves of my sweater and get started.

I only get momentarily distracted when I get a text from Josh wishing me luck tonight. I can't help but smile to myself at his incoming message. We're taking things slow. Figuring this whole thing out. As we agreed, we haven't really told anyone yet. All in due time.

"Knock, knock! Anyone in there?" Sophie pops up, as if out of nowhere, a big grin on her face.

"Jesus!" I breathe. "You scared me."

Sophie cocks her head at me, "You alright?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"Never better," she smirks, inspecting her fresh manicure. "How was your first class with the new program?"