Page 31 of The Beast of Moscow

She seemed to recognize that look in others, now, even when she wasn’t trying to find it. Like her soul could feel the weight life had left on other people’s shoulders.

It was unfortunate that being someone who was empathetic to others often left her learning the harshest of lessons. She trusted too easily—even the man standing in front of her had once been proof of that.

“You weren’t even the tenth ballerina I had fucked,” he noted.

The crassness of his statement had Vera standing ramrod straight. “Excuse me?”

Yes, she knew that. He was only pouring salt in the wound when he pointed it out, though. Some things were better left unsaid.

“Go to hell, Feliks,” Vera said, spinning on her heels to leave. “I’m done. With you and with this whole place.”

She planned to leave that room—and the building—with the same furious speed she’d entered it. But this time, she wouldn’t be coming back.

Vera didn’t have to take this man’s abuse; in whatever form it came her way. His total disregard for her had started the second she left his ass, and she only put up with it for this long because The Swan House continued to call her home. She wouldn’t stay there and keep doing it, however.

His voice calling after her stopped Vera in the office’s doorway when he said, “You were the only one I respected enough not to chase you out of my sight once I’d had enough of you, though.”

She spun right back around, not giving a single damn how crazy she probably looked when she pointed a finger at him and shouted, “You didn’t throw me away, asshole! I was done with you! And don’t forget it this time, either.”

“You’re right.” The fight didn’t leave Vera at his admission, but Feliks also wasn’t done yet. “Seems like you’re still missing the point, no? Despite not really caring about a piece of ass that continued to taunt me in these halls, I gave you as much as you reasonably wanted because it was beneficial for me to do so.”

Oh, really?

“Not anymore,” she said, turning to leave.

“Not for a long time, Vera, that’s the sad truth,” Feliks hollered after her as she headed into the large hall. “I tried to warn you, didn’t I? To mind your business? Why couldn’t you just do that?”

She didn’t care to ask him what he meant.

Vera kept walking.

“You have a contract, Vera!”

She scoffed. “That expired last month—check the dates!”

In fact, she’d known that they had let her standard contract—that guaranteed the free classes complete funding and control to her in exchange for her time and a certain number of charity events a year—expire. Vera purposely made the choice to say nothing about it or bring it up until she had worked through some of her recent feelings regarding The Swan House and her purpose for being there.

Apparently, that was the right thing to do. Again, her gut never led her wrong.

By the time she reached the end of the hallway where the stairwell was, Feliks had come to stand in front of his office doorway. She took one second to stop at the top of the stairs, glancing over her shoulder to glare at the man who hadn’t even taken the time to explain why he wanted her in his office in the first place.

“You’re really going to do this to those kids?” he asked, his words traveling down the corridor of ballerina portraits.

So cruelly, it stung.

Because she couldn’t even deny it—he was right. Truth be told, she was the only person who could maintain the classes and schedule the way she did given the staff and dancers for the company were down to a fraction of what they had once been. There was nobody else to continue what she had started. It would end all at once for those kids.

She could already see their heartbroken little faces.

“I did try to warn you,” Feliks said again. “I’ll see you in the studio on Monday, Vera! Whether it’s to tell those kids you’re done with this place, or not.”

Then, he stepped back inside his office.

Vera heard the doors slam shut, but she was already racing down the stairs, hating him for calling her on her bluff like that. He’d tried to warn her—but about what?

That question chased her to the ground level of The Swan House, and down another corridor that led to the grand entrance. It was the tears she didn’t bother to hide, though. Every single person she passed watched her cry.

It hurt to leave her world behind, but she was done pretending like this place still felt like home.