Nightfall ✓

En pointe

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E n   p o i n t e

[FRN]: balancing on the tip of your toes.

THE FIRST TIME she met Alec Daichi, she was furious. He had been the first person to make her miss her ballet practice.

Just because he was the latest pet of Amara Marie Monterio.

She was the queen of Varjot, an underworld organisation that ran the entire country. They controlled the government, military – heck, they even had influence over policy in other countries. Varjot was a web that kept growing and suffocating anyone who dared to oppose.  Ergo, when the queen of Varjot called you, there was no choice but to do as you were told.

Hell, even if they wanted to, her parents could not get Clo out of this predicament. Not that they would. They were the type of puppets who liked – no, worshipped – Varjot.

Amara had... peculiar tastes. Instead of men, she preferred boys. Beautiful, unique boys. And with the power she had, she could get anything and anyone she wanted.

Before Alec, there was Emile. The most beautiful boy anyone had ever seen. Amara spotted him at the airport. After years of watching over him, she finally made her claim. Except... this one was not charmed like the others.

No.

He almost took his life to get away from Amara.

The aftermath was a mess. For the first time, Varjot was furious with their queen. Thus, Emile got away and the queen was back.

And now, after years of mourning after Emile, she had Alec fucking Daichi. Another sixteen year old.

Clo wondered what the woman wanted as security led her to one of the penthouses Amara stayed at when she was in the city. To play with the dude? She was fourteen. She doubted she'd be any fun to a teenager who probably thought he was holier than thou and wondering where the fuck he was. Every boy Amara ever had were prettier than Clo – not that she cared. Well, maybe a little bit. Emile made her so jealous she refused to even see him during the initial days. By the time she was ready, he was already gone.

She had wept countless nights for the boy. The world she lived in, that was all one could do if you were a nobody. There was no one to go for help. Every law enforcement had Varjot members in them. Those who tried to break free... well, those became horror stories Clo's parents told her.

"Clo!" A woman in her late thirties exclaimed, putting a hand on her heart. "My darling, Clo!"

Amara was tall, taller than most of her bodyguards. She had thick brunette hair that barely reached her shoulders and an air of class and poise that not even ten years of ballet and four years of finishing school could be achieved by Clo. As much as Clo disliked the woman, she couldn't help but envy her. She reeked of confidence and rightly so. Taste in boys aside, she was a force to be reckoned with.

"You need to meet my boy – come on, you must! He's just wonderful – just lovely–" she paused abruptly, turning around to make sure Clo was following her. "I adore him more than anyone in this world."

Clo stopped abruptly before masking the shock on her face as the guard behind her gently gave her a nudge to move forward. There was a slight warning in her tone which piqued Clo's curiosity. While Amara was cruel to others, she loved Clo. She was, after all, her godmother. Amara was the one who enrolled Clo into ballet. She was the one who looked after Clo when her parents went on assignments given by Varjot. She had been a role model until Clo realised how evil she was to others. And slowly that bond had diminished. Now the only time Clo saw her godmother was when she needed her yearly fee for ballet.