Page 19 of Obsessed with Her

Indifferent to my thoughts, she spins around the stage, beautiful, with perfect and precise movements. Is she aware that she is hypnotizing everyone, men and women? Yes, because there is not even a whisper in the air and the theater is relatively large.

Serenity has the audience on its delicate toes, and I don't like being part of that group.

I force myself to look away from the stage and reach for my phone inside my blazer. I quickly scroll through my contact list, knowing that somewhere in it is a woman or women from New Orleans that I've dated in the past.

I find three names with the local area code. I try to remember who they are, but I can't.

Randomly, my finger hovers over someone called “Sebia”. The name is familiar to me.

Is she a model I dated?

I wrack my memory, but I can't remember anything. I'm thirty-four years old. I've had countless partners, so it's not unusual that I don't even remember their faces, but how is it possible that I don't rememberanything? A conversation, a laugh, or at least how I felt when I had her?

No, I don't remember anything at all. I have a huge list of contacts that represents a huge void, and I like it that way.

Today, however, I know that one random woman won't be enough.

The moment this certainty hits me, the performance comes to an end.

I keep my finger suspended over the phone's display, but I focus back on the stage, and at this exact moment, Serenity looks in my direction.

It's not a blind head turn. She looks atme.

I can't see much of her face, just that she's smiling.

I'm not so stupid as to think she’s smiling at me. Serenity has the confident expression of a winner. From what I’ve found out, today was her first solo performance, and she knows she did it perfectly.

Her head spins, refocusing on the audience.

I look at her, a little irritated. I want to snap my fingers and tell the lights to come on. No, I want to order her to be brought to me, to give me her undivided attention, like a spoiled fucking king who has his every wish met.

My arrogance wants to prohibit her from looking away from me.

I look at the phone in my hand again, knowing that I must quickly head to the dressing room, introduce myself to Serenity, and be on my way. Maybe enjoy the night with Hades a little, like the old days, since I definitely know I won't be calling that Sebia, or the other local names in my diary.

My hand tightens around the device, my mind reacting to what I know I'm going to do.

With a hand gesture to the head of my bodyguards standing at the entrance of the box, I summon him. In a second, he is at my side. I quickly order him to reserve a restaurant that I'vebeen to here in New Orleans and that I know is very good. Then I look for her name in the address book.

Serenity Clementine Blanchet.

I type a message.

Ares Kostanidis, your guardian, speaking. How long do you need to get ready? I’m taking you to dinner.

I decide to give her fifteen minutes to answer me. A concession to the fact that she must be being harassed by her team. After that, if there is no response, I will go and get her.

A dinner, just to make sure she's okay, and then I'll get her home safely. After that, we won't need to see each other anymore.

Serenity

CHAPTER TWELVE

"You were magnificent,"Madam Villatoro says, entering the dressing room with me.

I absorb the compliment like someone receiving a jewel directly from the hands of a queen. On the outside, I'm the picture of calm, but on the inside, I'm vibrating like a little girl in a ball pit.

I know it went well tonight, but having her validation is important to me. Mainly because Debra Villatoro is brutally honest. I've seen some dancers leave in tears because of the “truths” she tells them. Most of the time because she thinks they are not trying hard enough.

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