The Faceless Ballerina

Anna froze.

"So what are you saying?" she asked, unease sharpening her voice. "We send a maid in your place?"

I shook my head. "If we send just anyone, Lorenzo will know immediately. It has to be the person he truly loves."

Anna sagged back, frustration flashing across her face. "Only God knows who that is. Besides us and the maids, who else could he possibly love in this house?"

My mother spoke at once. "Could it be…"

Her voice faltered. The color drained from her face.

In the same instant, the answer settled in my mind.

I met her gaze. "Mom, I think I know who Lorenzo loves."

At first, I had no idea. Lorenzo had acted so devoted that part of me still questioned whether any of it had been real.

But he slipped in the gallery.

It was the red velvet cake. I despised red velvet cake. Only one person in this house loved it obsessively. Only one person here bore a cross-shaped scar on her ankle.

Once I noticed it, everything fell into place. Rather than prolong a bloody standoff with Lorenzo, I chose a different approach. I would give him the love he claimed to want, even if that love could never withstand public scrutiny.

I leaned close to our mother and whispered my plan into her ear. Her eyes widened in horror.

She clenched her jaw and nodded. Without another word, she hurried off to make arrangements.

Anna slumped over the table and let out a hollow laugh.

"We fought for years," she said. "If we lose to someone like that, can you live with it?"

I smiled, steady and composed.

"No," I said. "I cannot. But more than pride, I want revenge."

Anna leaned in until her lashes nearly brushed my cheek.

"Then we stop fighting each other," she said. "This time, we work together and punish the Don."

She spoke without heat.

Sending that person in our place was a statement in itself.

Lorenzo claimed he loved her, desired her, longed for her. Fine. I would see how he responded when she arrived at the theater in person.

Our mother returned soon after, breathless and flushed.

"We are fortunate," she said. "The Capone family agreed to help us. They have enough power to stand against Lorenzo."

With the Capone family's backing, relief eased the tightness in my chest for the first time since the invitation arrived.

No matter how powerful the Don was, he had limits.

…

On the third night, long after dark, Anna and our mother dressed the masked figure and guided her into a black sedan.

I turned and stepped into another car waiting at the curb.

"Lorenzo, this time you are going to get exactly what you want."