Page 7 of Claimed By my Stepbrother
I’ve only seen photos of Emilia, but when I scan the crowd, I recognize her immediately. She’s standing in the center of the front row, looking around for someone, presumably either me or Rowan, as he is nowhere to be seen.
I walk toward her, seeing her bite her lip as she reads something on her phone. Disappointment is clearly written on her face, and I wonder what news she just received. Deciding it’s none of my business, I made my way through the surprisingly large crowd, moving toward her.
She turns as I approach, a kind smile lighting up her face as she peers up at me, recognition quickly dawning.
“Well, hello, there. You must be Knox. I recognize you from the photos your father has shown me. I’m so happy you could make it. It’s nice to finally meet the man responsible for our safety.” Her words come out in a nervous rush, and I have to take a moment to process what she’s said. “Unfortunately, I just heard from you father, and he won’t be able to attend. It seems there was a work emergency,” Emilia explains.
She may be disappointed, but I couldn’t be happier. Rowan’s presence is always stressful. And, maybe having some time alone with Emilia will not only give me a chance to get to know her a little bit but also give me time to convince her to back out of marrying Rowan.If only she knew who he really is.
The lights begin to flicker, and people make their way to their seats.
Emilia gestures to the seat beside hers. “The show is about to start. Sirena is performing third. I can’t wait for you to see how talented she is.” I give her a polite smile as we sit, and I make myself focus on the empty stage.
A middle-aged woman dressed in a crisp tuxedo suit walks up the steps to the stage, making her way toward the podium. “Thank you all for coming this evening! I’m Mrs. Andrews, the dance coach here at Crestshaw High. We have a real treat for you all this evening. There will be five performances. All representing a different dance style. First up we have Connor Thompson tapping toSinging in the Rain.”
As the applause dies down, the music begins, and Connor taps on stage with an open umbrella. He closes it, slings it over his shoulder, and starts twirling it around, tapping across the stage as bubbles come down from the rafters.
Another kid, dressed in a cop costume, comes on stage looking at the dancer suspiciously. The dancer shrugs with a big grin before he sings the final notes, “I’m dancing and singing in the rain.” He spreads his arms out freely, backing away from the cop, making his way off the stage as he starts waving at him, and the lights fade to black.
The audience stands up and claps while the dancer comes back out and takes a bow before heading backstage again. I’m impressed. I’ve never cared for tap dancing before, but Connor did pretty well for a high school dancer.
A spotlight comes back to illuminate Mrs. Andrews standing at the podium again. “Next up, we have Andrea Harris performingBlack Swan.”The lights fade as Mrs. Andrews exits, only to return slowly, shining on a lone figure frozen in the middle of the stage.
As the dramatic music begins, the girl twirls around, clearly well-versed in her dance. I’m not sure how she’s managing to move that way with the large wings she’s wearing. When she finishes, sitting cross legged on the stage, wings around her, her chest heaving from the exertion, the crowd erupts with a standing ovation as she rises and takes a bow.
It takes several moments for the crowd to settle down, finally allowing Mrs. Andrews to make the next announcement.
“Next, Sirena Albright and Clark Reynolds will be performing the daringEl Tango De RoxannefromMoulin Rouge.”
The silent auditorium descends into total darkness, and from somewhere a tapping sound begins, counting time until soft lights, situated low on the stage, illuminate a fog rolling across the floor, curling around feet—the source of the tapping.
Low strains of a violin resound through the space, and the lights grow brighter, showing a pair of long, shapely legs rising from the fog. My eyes wander up her body as the lights continue to grow, and I’m mesmerized, unable to look away.
I watch, transfixed, as she turns with a sharp spin, her back now on the audience, as she wraps her arms around herself. The lights reflect off the sequins covering her short dress. While I appreciate the hint of her perfectly sculpted ass, I’m immediately furious that she’s so clearly on display.
A spotlight finds her as the music swells. I feel an elbow nudge my ribs, and Emilia leans over to whisper in my ear. “That’s my Sirena,” she says proudly. I can only nod, my eyes glued to the fiery redhead on stage.Sirena.Fuck, just thinking of her name makes me hot.
I don’t need to be next to her to tell that Sirena is stunning. I’m captivated, watching her body move to the music. She’s a tiny thing—she can’t be taller than five foot four, but her legs seem to go on for days, demanding my attention. She has curves and breasts that my hands itch to caress. I’ve never had such a visceral reaction to a woman before.
Sirena sways to the music, focused on the floor, seemingly floating above the stage. When she turns to face the audience again, her head snaps up, and her eyes lock with mine.
Her eyes are unbelievable—bottomless pools of shimmering turquoise reflecting the light. I’m frozen, unable to look away. I know it’s impossible for her to see me, with the spotlight shining on her and the auditorium shrouded in darkness, but somehow, I know she’s watching me.
Suddenly, a male dancer whisks across the stage, coming up behind her and resting his hand on her neck. He arches her body backward toward him, severing the soul-stealing connection we were locked in, as he takes a knee before rising to spin her around in his embrace.
“First, there is desire,” a male voice belts out. “Then passion,” he says before a dramatic pause, allowing the tension in the music to seep into the audience. “Then suspicion. Jealousy… Anger… Betrayal. When love is for the highest bidder, there can be no trust. Without trust, there is no love. Jealousy. Yes, jealousy…will drive you mad.”
An unfamiliar tightness forms in my chest, and my hands clench into fists on my thighs, itching to fly into the boy’s face. Thereisan intense desire inside of me for Sirena and a burning jealousy knowing that every man is looking at her, greedily drinking in her beauty, wishing they could be with her.
But, she was made to be mine. Even though she’s a goddess among mortals, and I’m a lowly criminal so far beneath her that it’s comical. She’s the kind of girl who marries a surgeon or a CEO—someone who can give her a stable, comfortable life. But, thinking of her with another man enrages me.
The male dancer’s hand slides down Sirena’s stomach, and I want to cut it off. He’s touched what will soon be mine. My jaw clenches, and in a split second—acting on pure emotion—I find myself jumping up onto the stage.
They both stop mid-turn, shocked, watching my rapid approach. I stand before Sirena, and without hesitation, I pull her body away from the boy and toss her over my shoulder, heading toward the glowing exit sign backstage.
I can hear excited gasps coming from behind me, but my singular focus is to get Sirena away from there.
“What are you doing?” she shrieks, pounding her tiny fists ineffectively on my back. “Are you crazy?” I laugh, feeling alive and well for the first time, enjoying the sensation of her body rubbing against mine.
