Page 153 of Captivated

“Then, sit and eat, but I don’t want to hear you while you do it.”

At that statement, he pulled out a newspaper from his lap, and opened it up to read. His gaze didn’t even follow her as she moved to the table, and sat down.

What is happening?

“I have a gift for you,” Rich said.

Liliana had been all too aware that about half way through her plate, Rich had started watching her again. The feeling was unnerving, but she pushed through and finished her meal. She certainly hadn’t forgotten how the man used to point out every extra calorie Liliana shoved inside her mouth.

The world of ballet and dancers was already toxic enough for a young woman struggling with her body image and weight. Although, Liliana had never gone that far, thankfully—she had managed to find a man who was just as bad. Rich had nearly introduced her to the vile relationship that was an eating disorder during their time together, but somehow, it was the one thing Liliana never got trapped in with him.

Or maybe he just hadn’t gotten enough time with her.

Who was to say?

“Do you want your gift?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said.

Her mind screamed, Fuck no.

Rich stood from his chair, and pulled a small pale pink box with a white bow from the seat next to his. Liliana hadn’t even seen it resting there, but then again, she had been far too caught up in shoving food into her mouth.

Who could blame her?

Coming close enough to stand right beside her seat, making it impossible for Liliana to do anything but sit there like an expressionless doll who wouldn’t displease him, Rich set the box in front of her, and moved her plate away.

“Go on,” he urged, “open it.”

Yay.

Liliana tugged the bow from the box, and then flipped open the lid. Resting inside on white tissue paper was a pair of brand new pointe shoes. The soft satin ribbons and firm soles of the shoes felt like heavy weights when she plucked them out of the box.

Heavier than they should have been.

She loved dance.

Ballet was everything good for her. An escape that very little else provided for her in life. An accomplishment that was solely hers. Something she worked so very hard for, and was proud to say she had mastered.

And this man was going to ruin it for her.

He was going to destroy ballet for her.

She knew it.

“I was hoping you would dance for me,” he murmured.

Liliana wet her lips—find a lie. “These are new shoes, Rich. They would kill my feet—they should be broken in, at the very least.”

“Then break them in while you dance for me.”

She closed her eyes.

Searched for an excuse.

Anything; something.

She couldn’t.