Part of Your World

Plots and Ploys

I checked my cuff links, rounding the corner back into the restaurant, the tones of the violin now replaced by a cello. It was still calming, still beautiful, but I could somehow tell whoever was playing the instrument was not the same. Not paying attention, I collided with a soft force, a flash of brilliant red hair catching my eye.

"Shit, sorry," I said, hands jutting out to steady the poor girl. Her wide, blue-green eyes flashed up to mine, a thrill of fear clear in her gaze. It was a look I was accustom to seeing in moments such as this, where I caught someone unaware. I knew I was sinister and intimidating. I glowered down at her as she gaped, her round, pink lips open, sending a jolt through me. How I wished those were the lips that had been circled around my length instead.

I released her, stepping back to get a better look. She was rather petite, a bit on the short side, with small breasts. Her face was a perfect oval, chin narrow, nose slim and pointed, a smattering of freckles across her high cheekbones. I knew the flame of her red hair was natural, for it was the same shade on her eyebrows, which were tilted up to give her porcelain face a look of utter innocence. She wore a black, long sleeve dress that shimmered, ending mid thigh, and a pair of nude flats. I narrowed my gaze at her. She was simple, conservative—drop dead gorgeous. I wished her dress was shorter as my eyes raked over her again, pressing my thumb to my lip to keep from drooling.

I quirked my brow at her, waiting for some form of a response. She clamped her mouth shut, eyes widening further as she tilted her head back and took me in.

"Do I get a name?" I said, a menacing edge to my voice. I got whatever I wanted, and she would learn that. Her small hand jutted up to the thin silver necklace that adorned her pale, slender neck, fiddling with it nervously. Two small hearts clanked together.

I glared, impatient.

"I asked you a question," I hissed, and she shook her head, motioning with her hands so quickly they were a blur, shaking in trepidation. Just then, a tall, athletic, onyx haired beauty with long, thick locks approached from behind, a kind smile on her olive face.

"We're back on in five, Aria, so hurry up," she said, gripping her friend's elbow.

Aria. My lip curled back in pleasure at her equally as beautiful name.

She jumped, a deep blush tinging her cheeks as she turned to her friend, motioning with her hands again.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir," the young woman said, also wearing black. She stepped forward, an air of easy confidence about her.

"This is Aria, she...uhh...well..."

I glanced at the tiny red head, my glare deepening as she avoided my gaze, chewing her lip as she knit her hands together. Waitresses bustled by like phantoms with trays of fragrant dishes.

"She can't speak. She can hear just fine, but she can't talk," the woman said, and my eyes flashed to her, widening. I felt an utter jackass.

"Oh, my apologies," I said, glancing at the woman anew. Her friend smiled gently.

"If you're good at reading lips, she'll give you conversation. Don't count on it, though," her friend said, leaning in and hushing her voice.

"Thank you, for explaining," I said, chest tightening.

"Maks?" came Natalia's grating voice. My eyes slipped closed in annoyance as I felt her at my elbow. Aria's eyes widened again as she stared at the embodiment of interruption, seeming to shrink in on herself, surrounded by these tall women.

"Go sit down," I hissed in Russian, giving her a look of death. Her eyes sparked in fear, and she clacked off, clearly pissed.

"I'm really sorry, sir, but we were just trying to get to the restroom before our next performance," the woman said, voice kind as she reached for her friend.