chapter one

“Ladies and Gentleman, direct from the Latvian National Ballet, please welcome their Prima Ballerina, Behati Dane!”

 The audience quieted down, their attention turning to the stage, and the lights dimmed as the announcers voice boomed over the speaker system. This was the reason they had come, from far and close, had shelled out hundreds of dollars, to gaze upon her. Some in awe, some in lust, some in jealousy, but they had all come for her.

 She took a gracious curtsey to the applause, and then listened for the music’s opening notes. Behati had been hearing that announcement made since she was 16 years old, when she promoted to principal dancer within the Latvian Ballet. The phone call that came the day after the auditions had made her whole year. But with the high of acceptance came the low of logistics. On a work visa from America, with only foster parents, and terrible ones at that, she was faced with a problem. Her work visa would run out eventually and as a minor on the run, the chances of getting anyone to sign for her to get the Latvian equivalent of a green card were slim to none, especially with the country already in chaos after the recent fall of the Soviet union  . If she could not find a way to get citizenship, she would not be able to stay in Latvia and her dance career that she dedicated her whole life to would fall apart. Behati was frantic, knowing her options were limited. She had been scouted at 11 from her community ballet school, one that was free to kids from low income families. Her foster parents at the time weren’t low income, but they did refuse to pay for anything. Behati learned early on not to rely on anyone but herself. But she also recognized her status as underage in the world, and knew that options available to adult dancers weren’t for her.

 It seemed like fate that placed Adam in front of her. He was not the first older man she had slept with, and he wouldn’t be the last. Adam, with his expensive suits, and exotic tastes, who was a patron of the ballet, of anything to do with the arts. Behati’s red hair and huge eyes, combined with her talent, was too much for him, and it wasn’t long before they tumbled into bed. They were opposites in every way. She had safety pins in her leotards and rips in her tights, preferring thrift stores and vintage shops. Adam wouldn’t have anything to do with a suit that was under a thousand dollars, or a dinner that was under one hundred. A businessman with old money from London, with Latvian citizenship from his mother, he seemed to do everything and yet nothing. To do this day, Behati wasn’t clear as to what he did or how he made his money. She just knew that he had a lot of it.

 The love affair continued for a year, interested in each other’s company, but never interested in anything beyond the bedroom chatter. It wasn’t love, there was no romance or flowers. Behati didn’t believe in love, not in a broken world that left her cold and where her own parents abandoned her. Adam had believed in love once, and never would again. His one true love had perished when he was not much older than Behati, and he had vowed to never again love. To lust, to care for, to even enjoy, but never to love again.

 And so they made the perfect pair, the businessman with the beautiful ballerina on his arm. He was too old for her, 10 years at the time of their meeting separated them, but she had a wisdom in her eyes, and he enjoyed the raw humanity in her. She never asked him for anything, basking in the gifts he gave her, but preferring his company. Until the year was up, and the lady from HR came to her with an ultimatum.

 “If you cannot find a way to stay, Behati, neither can we. Minors in the country, even gainfully employed, aren’t easy. Are you sure you can’t find your parents?”

 And that was how Adam found her, on the bed that night, the papers surrounding her, and tears in her eyes. In a year, he had never seen such emotion in her eyes.

 And so, he gave her the greatest gift of all. He took her to the court house and married her in a small ceremony, putting a ring on her finger, changing her name to his, and giving her citizenship.

 It was a favour to her, and even during the ceremony, there was no love. The words were empty, the promises forgotten.

 “I have no interest in any one else, my dear, and so you may bear my name as long as you need it,” he had said, kissing her lightly as it was over. “But my business here is over, and I must move on.”

 They shared a residence for 3 more days as a married couple, before he packed up. Behati didn’t mind in the slightest. She had known their love affair wouldn’t last forever, love didn’t last forever. Adam was to travel the world, and they likely wouldn’t see each other again, unless they needed to. Unless the marriage had to be dissolved because one of them had fallen in love, an impossible circumstance. At least, that was the plan. Behati continued to rise to fame, travelling the world and gracing stages that her superiors would have been awed by. Adam’s name often appeared in the Financial Times, in the business magazines, as one of the richest and most eligible bachelors in the world. When he had first arrived in Latvia, he was newly CEO of the family company, passed onto him after his father died. It was a burden he probably never expected to bear. His father had been healthy, and strong, and overbearing man who loved his slight wife with all his heart. It had been a shock for everyone, and yet, the show must go on. Adam had to seamlessly step into the role barely out of his funeral clothes and take over the company. He had his brothers to help him, and yet, it was a burden only he could bear.

 The photos continued, each photo showing him more successful, happier, supposedly. And sometimes, when she saw them, she smiled, thinking of the secret she had once worn on her ring figure, of thee name on her passport.

 They had meant to be separate for the rest of their lives, but their path crossed and then crossed again, until they found themselves in regular contact once again. When she came through down, she stayed at his mansion, populated by his younger brothers, who helped run the family business and provided entertainment on several different levels. There was no longing phone calls, no text messages filled with emotion, but they kept in touch.

 But now, 10 years later, Behati felt like the charade had gone on long enough. He said that she should use it as long as she needed it, and that time had long passed. Even if no one knew except the authorities, she was still legally Behati Katz, and she decided it was high time to change that. She had a month after this performance, a month off that she had requested, to return home to Adam in America and wait for the Latvian consulate to dissolve their marriage.

 At 27, she wasn’t quite as fluid as she was 17. Dancers had such a short performance career and she knew that hers wouldn’t last forever. She often wondered that, if she was auditioning now, rather than being cast off her name, what would become of her. Nothing hurt, she wasn’t stiff and wincing, but she went through the motions without thought, without passion. She had never thought when she danced, it was just something that became her. Off stage, she could be seen in short skirts and tube tops, showing off her lean and well toned body, that she got from years and years of dance. On stage, however, without dark eyeliner and bright red lipstick, she became an innocent creature, with wide eyes and flowing limbs that made anybody think about nothing but purity. It was the transformation, for those who knew her, that was the most fascinating.

 Behati finished the solo act to cheers and applause, with red roses being thrown at her feet. She graciously smiled, taking 3 curtain calls before heading back stage, stopping to pick up one particular bouquet of red roses, a large one that had fallen on her slippers.

 As soon as she got off stage, however, it was a different tale. She handed the roses off to a stage hand, rushing to her dressing room.

 Behati was not particularly good with money, although no one would ever know. She always seemed to have endless amount, by her wild life style that often left the tabloids rolling confusion. But the truth was, that wild lifestyle, coupled with more than a few nights of drug induced slumber, often cost her every last penny.

 In order to fly back to America, without the Ballet company paying for it, she had a standby ticket that allowed her to get on one of four late night flights.

 She pushed the door to her dressing room opened, and was startled to find someone in it already. Behati gasped, and flailed for the light switch. And then she smiled.

 “Adam,” she said, trying to regain her cool. “What the hell are you doing here?”

 In the 10 years that they had been together, he had gained a few crow’s feet around the eyes, giving his face a slightly weather beaten look. He stood 5’11” to her 5’9”, dressed impeccably as always in a three piece suit that she knew must have cost him at least 4 figures. His hair, kept short but long enough to style, was dark, and gelled back. He had a giant bouquet of roses in his arms, as he did the first day they had met.

 “I thought I’d surprise you. Is it unwelcome?”

 “No,” she said, shutting the door behind her and taking the roses from him. She kissed him on the cheek. “Come to escort your ex wife home?”

 “Well, my wife, in any case,” he said. “Have you had any news with the consulate?”

 “Nothing, although I’ve tried my hardest. Getting a divorce when the marriage was sketchy to begin with is pretty hard,” she said. “It’s certainly easier if we do it at home, as two American citizens. As for escorting me home, I don’t actually have a flight. I have a standby…”  “You do have a flight,” from his pocket, he produced two tickets. “At midnight, tonight, first class. And I’ve bought the seats behind us too, I know you like your privacy.”

 She grinned as she took down her hair. Adam always knew what to say to make things right. And although she wasn’t in love with him, she was eternally grateful for the things he had done for her.

 They didn’t discuss their lives when they were apart, except in minor details. She didn’t tell him the parties she went to, or the substances she indulged him. And she assumed that he kept his tongue tied about the one night stands he had as well.

 “Great. Let me get packed and I’ll be right out.”

 He nodded, and left her alone, kissing her on top the head. Adam was not like most of the men she had been with, who would have stayed and stared greedily at her naked body, suggesting crude things. Behati might have even gone along with those things as well, but not with him. Adam brought out a better side of her.

 Once he was gone, she hastily changed, and packed a bag. Turning over her shoulder to make sure the door was really closed, she opened her makeup drawer and shoved a pack of syringes and bottles into her bag. If Adam was going to be squeamish about her getting dressed, he certainly wouldn’t approve of a drug habit. And while his upscale parties were fun in their own way, she certainly didn’t call them a wild night to remember. The parties she went to involved drinking until you fell down, and strangers feeling your body, making you feel on top of the world. It was an aspect of herself she knew he was not impressed with, and yet he was drawn to her all the same. She enjoyed wearing a new ball gown just as much as a mini skirt. Playing characters was a part of Behati’s life, as much as breathing or sleeping. And when you were a performer, playing a character never stopped.

 Adam was waiting for her outside, saying hello to some of the ballerinas he used to know well. On his first trip to Latvia, he had been a patron of the company, and his name still appeared in the program now and again.

 “Ah, lovely,” he said, as she came out. “All packed? Or do we need to stop somewhere first?”

 “Let’s blow this joint,” she replied, happy to have some time off work, even if it was for annoying circumstances. Spending a month going through paper work with Adam was going to be an annoying legal battle and a boring time. Despite the fact that she had made it clear she didn’t want any of his money, or any of his things, they would still have to battle it in court, seeing as neither of them had signed a prenup. His retirement fund would be automatically split up, unless they submitted a specific court order to not do it. It was stupid, in her eyes, but that was part of divorcing without a prenuptial, apparently. And spending a month in a mansion of well to do Londoners who preferred whiskey to beer was not her idea of a good time either. She didn’t think she could ever live with Adam, even if their marriage was real. And he probably felt the same way, embarrassed even now as her sweat shirt was belly bearing and her skinny jeans were tight enough to be leggings. But still, he took her arm, heading for the front door, as her colleagues waved goodbye.

 “I have a car waiting,” he said. “Straight to the airport, unless you prefer to stop?”

 “No. I’ve got everything. You didn’t really come across the ocean to escort me home, you sneak,” she said, once they were in the back seat of the limo. “What were you doing in Latvia?”

 “Ah,” he smiled tightly, as the limo driver started. “Taking care of some of my mother’s affairs. She’s decided it’s time to see her sons again, and so she’ll be staying in America in the family home.”

 “Your mother?” she raised an eyebrow. The boys did not particularly get along with their mother. When their father died, Adam had taken over as head of the family, and CEO of the company. Although he respected his mother, he often saw her as an interference. “Well, that should be fun. And what am I to be?”

 “A friend,” he said, as the car drove onto the highway, the driver silent behind the screen. “For are you not that, always, if nothing else?”

 She smiled at him, brushing a lock of red hair out of her face. They were such different people, but they could always find common ground.

 “Yes, I am that,” she said, crossing her long legs. “That should be fun. Shall we share a room too?”

 He snorted at that.

 “We may be grown, my brothers and I, but my mother is quite the traditionalist. I trust the guest bed room will suit you quite well.”  “Sure,” she said, leaning against the window. “It’s not like we’re married.”

 He was silent on that, and she watched the snow fall in the night sky. In a few weeks, for the first time in her adult life, she wouldn’t be married. Would it make a difference at all?

 Adam watched his wife as they drove through the downtown core, on their way to the airport. She looked so young and innocent tonight, and so very tired. Her insistence to clear up this mess had made him hesitant, it was not the best time for him or his family. And she always thought him so good, so above her. Would she think the same when she found out what they did?

chapter two

 Behati had never met Adam’s family before, although she had heard him speak often of them. There was Rick, his Irish twin brother, 11 months younger, who he was the closest to. Rick helped Adam the most with the company, up until recently. A history of depression had left Adam alone to do even the smallest tasks, and she could see it was weighing on him. Tall and thin, with hair in his eyes, Rick actually looked older than his brother, and regarded her silently when he was introduced.

 Liam, the middle child, seemed to look nothing like this, aside from the lanky hips. This, Adam explained, was because he was the child of a different man, an affair that had caused several fights between his parents, for obvious reasons. He was pale, with red hair, and a twinkle about his eyes. Liam was known for his temper, and Adam had warned her to stay out of his way. But Behati had her own way with people, and blurted out the first thing that came to her mind when she met him.

 “Holy crap, you’re stunning, aren’t you?”

 Liam grinned.

 “You’re not so bad yourself, darling,” he said, and Behati tossed her hair.

 “So they say.”

 The youngest of the bunch, a surprise baby, was Keith, a spunky 16 year old who seemed to be delighted by everything.

 “You’re famous, aren’t you? Do you know Brad Pitt?” he asked, and Behati laughed.

 “I don’t, because he’s not a dancer. I do know Natalie Portman, does that interest you?”

 “Greatly,” Keith wiggled his eyebrows. “Especially if you have her phone number.”

 “Such a warm reception, and the lady has yet to take off her coat,” Adam said, shoving through the door with bags.

 She had been in the mansion before, although at the time, she had been alone with Adam, and most of their clothes had ended up on the floor before she reached this point in the hallway. Her body tingled thinking about re-enacting that scene. She wouldn’t have minded an audience, either, but Adam seemed to have other plans.

 “Where is mother?” he asked, and Rick shrugged.

 “She left on Tuesday to deal with the Colorado sector. She said she’d be back ‘when she’s back.”

 “Always informative. Colorado has not said a word to me,” Adam grumbled. “So I suspect she’s not there at all. And how are you?” he asked his brother. “Alright?”

 “Surviving,” Rick grunted, as the boys moved aside to let Behati hang up her coat.

 “Are you a super whiz at DDR, then?” Keith asked her. “Since you’re a dancer?”

 “I’ve never played,” she replied, with a shrug. “I imagine I’ll probably suck at it though.”

 “Can we let Behati upstairs?” Adam asked. “We’ve just had a long plane ride. Too long, thanks to delays.”

 “Did you expect us to control the airports too, Adam?” Liam asked, leaning against the counter. Adam grinned.

 “Eventually. I’m sure that was a dream of Father’s as well.”

 “I wouldn’t mind a video game,” Behati said, to answer Keith, who was waiting like a puppy dog. “I just need a shower first.”

 “Coffee, love?” Adam asked, and she shook her head.

 “Nah, I’ll be fine. The water will wake me up,” she said, thumping up the stairs, remembering a grand shower just to the left of the staircase. Once upstairs, the interest in the new person disappeared, and Liam and Keith melted into other parts of the house. Only then, that they were alone, did Rick speak again to Adam.

 “10 years, hmm?”

 “10 years,” Adam said, watching Behati disappear up the stairs. “I can’t say it has been a nightmare. It certainly won’t be a traditional divorce.”

 “Well, it wasn’t a traditional marriage, either,” Rick replied, and Adam glanced up sharply.  “Please, don’t tell the others. If Behati and I have our way, we can dissolve this as quietly as it was made. She is no longer in need of my citizenship nor my name. And I would like her name cleared o the family before we venture into…other things,” he glanced at Rick knowingly. “For her own protection.”

 “Another man would think you love this girl, Adam,” Rick said and his brother glared at him.

 “Don’t be ridiculous. It was convenient, at the time,” he said. “Marrying Behati made her very grateful, if you know what I mean.”

 “I see,” Rick replied, glancing at the clock on the wall. “We’re do on a conference call in 5 minutes.”

 “Right,” Adam followed his brother to the office. He was tired and jet lagged, but for the Katz’s, business never stopped, especially as they took on a new venture.

 Once upstairs, in the privacy of the bathroom, Behati took out her overnight kit, and unzipped the pocket. She filled the syringe half way and smacked the vein in her arm a few times. The plane ride was long and she wasn’t sure she would make it into the house without twitching. And as much as Adam tolerated her life style, she was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to tolerate a drug addiction. It was even something she wasn’t proud of herself. But what was wrong with feeling good once in awhile?

 Her shower felt blissful after her fix, the water running over her body, relaxing her tight muscles.

 She stepped out when she felt like her skin would burn, and dressed in a thigh skimming cotton dress, that left little to the imagination. She left her hair down, in waves around her face, and he did her makeup. Even off stage, there was a mask to wear, a character to embody, someone she needed to be. Performing since she was a child, Behati didn’t know who she was without character.

 A month without performing would be the longest she had ever spent off a stage since she was 12 years old. It was going to be blissful, and yet, strange, that no one would be staring at her every moment, that no rehearsals would start at done, and the hair and makeup would all be her own.

 Downstairs, the voices of the Katz brothers were coming from different parts of the house. She could hear Rick and Adam on a call in the office, and Keith laughing at the video game in the living room. Liam was nowhere to be heard, and she wondered where the most beautiful of the brothers had gone off to.

 Her skin still tingling, she decided to explore the house, remember the rooms, before she tried to maintain a normal conversation.

 The downstairs still had the wood paneling she remembered, shiny as if it were brand new. The house was old, and was once a boarding school, so there were many rooms that the boys used for various things. If things ever went sour, they could probably run their whole business from here and move all their employees in as well.

 Upstairs was the bedrooms, enough to house an army of guests, she felt. It was the ballroom that she was looking for however, straight out of a movie. The grand staircase twisted around it, bringing everyone’s eye to whoever swept up and down it in a long gown. They had rented it out a few times to movie crew, and it had even doubled as Buckingham Palace once or twice. Behati enjoyed watching the films with another smirk, knowing the secrets that she and Adam had on that grand dance floor.

 On a whim, almost on instinct, Behati stretched out a long leg, bending down to the ground, and then the other. She closed her eyes, imagining a full orchestra playing in the room, surrounded by hundreds of swirling dancers. This was a dance floor of old, where Kings and Queens would come, and bring their eligible daughters to meet Princes, and have great marriages. Marriages of convenience, for mutual gain, much like her own.

 She stood straight, taking first position, and then pulled her leg up straight, at a 90-degree angle. It was a move that she could do since her very first day in class, with naturally flexible limbs. Dancers had to have a very particular body type, and she knew she was lucky to be born with it.

 She didn’t know how long she danced for, fueled by chemical energy, but she did know it was awhile. When she finally ran out of breath and opened her eyes, she was startled to see she had an audience.

 “Cool,” Keith said, his eyes wide. “How do you do that?”

 “Instinct,” she replied, trying to catch her breath. “And the fact that I’ve been doing it since I was a child.”

 “Don’t you get nervous? Up in front of thousands of people?”

 She shrugged.

 “You can’t even see them, with the stage lights in the way. And you don’t even think, most of the time. You just dance.” 

“I want a job where I don’t have to think,” Keith said and she rolled her eyes.

 “I’m quite sure your brothers will enjoy that,” she replied, and behind her, Adam cleared his throat.

 “I’m already under the impression that you don’t think, Keith,” he said, with a slight smile. “In honour of Behati’s arrival, shall we order in?”

 “PIZZA!” Keith went tearing from the room, making Behati laugh.

 “He’s adorable.”

 “He’s also a trouble maker, so watch out. If Keith tells you to do something, it’s probably not a good idea to do it.”

 “I think I’ve handled much worse,” she smiled, going to hug him. “Aren’t you tired?”

 “Exhausted,” he revealed. “But business doesn’t stop.”

 “Now that I’m actually here, are you going to tell me what you do?”

 “Everything and nothing,” he smiled tightly, shifting to wrap an arm around her waist. “And the moment, we have large shares in transport trucks, and we are working on new clients to use the trucks.”

 “Call the zoo, I would love to see an elephant transported,” she replied, and he laughed.

 “Now that would be interesting,” he said. “I have also called the Latvian consulate. What they need first is proof of your papers from the state, saying that you were a ward of the state placed in foster care. Do you have any of that?”

 She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.

 “I lived out of a suitcase in a hotel room for 2 years. If anyone has it, it’s them.”

 “Perhaps the last set of foster parents you had?” he suggested, as they strolled towards the kitchen. She felt alive with energy, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling. When there was no audience, and no one to please, it was such a natural high to dance just for herself. Of course, there was the chemical high that she enjoyed as well.

 “Humph,” she replied, thinking. “Maybe. How long before food gets here? Do we have time for a tryst?” She snuggled, remembering his firm body, and how it used to make her feel in the dark. If they were to divorce and never meet again, especially at night, she would feel a sense of loss, at the very least.

 His hand slipped lower, down her back and came to rest on the top of her butt, small but firm. He groaned, low in his throat, as he bent to kiss her.

 “Perhaps tonight, my dear, if you would allow a visit to your rooms.”

 “It’s like you’re the king and I’m your hooker,” she replied.

 “You’re the queen,” he answered after a moment, nipping at her ear. “That the king visits for pleasure, among other things.”

 “mmm,” if she wanted to, she knew she could push him over the edge, then and there. But she pulled back, enjoying the lingering pleasure that continued after his touch was removed. Delayed gratification was a good reward as well. “Pizza for dinner it is. I’m starving.”

 “You’ve lost a bit of weight,” he said, as they headed towards the kitchen. “Forgive me if it’s a sore topic. Are you well?”

 “Sure,” she didn’t look at him. “Just working hard lately. Everyone knew I was taking time off, so it felt like there was a last minute rush. And I’m a prima, yes, but I’m also one of the ones they loan out all the time.”

 “So you can work for other companies?” he asked. “Your contract is not exclusive?”

 “No?” she replied, confused. “I thought you knew that. Did you have something in mind?”

 “Maybe nothing yet,” he said, with a twinkle. “But I’ll keep you posted.”

 She paused at a large piece of artwork on the wall, depicting the two famous comedy and drama masks. It was beautiful, done in oil, and flawless. From up close or far away, it caught the eye. Behati had always loved those masks, feeling like they stood for everything in her life. Theatre, sadness, happiness, how things could easily change.

 “That’s stunning,” she said and Adam nodded.

 “Liam painted it.”

 “Really?” she turned her head to him in shock. “Man, you got a whole family full of artists, don’t you?”

 “He’s always painted,” Adam said. “It’s what he used to do when Father was around. Obviously, Father was not…pleasant to him.”

 “I know what it’s like to be an unwanted child,” Behati said, fiddling with her hair. “My records state that both my parents were present when I was given up. They just decided to ditch me, throw me out and get on with their lives.”  Adam’s face softened.

 “I didn’t know.”

 She shrugged.

 “Clearly, didn’t make much of a difference. I’m where I want to be, doing what I want to be. Maybe, if they had kept me, they wouldn’t have approved of dance or something and I’d be working at McDonalds.”

 “We often end up where we are meant to,” he said, after a moment, and continued to lead her to the kitchen. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

 “Right,” she tried to put it out of her head. “Well, let’s enjoy tonight, because tomorrow is going to start off like a nightmare. Boring paperwork. Do you have any wine?”

 “In the fridge,” he replied, enjoying the sight of her behind going to get the glasses. He could have made a worse choice, for a wife, he supposed. For her sake, though, he hoped it would be over soon and she would be free and clear, what she wanted, and what he needed, to protect her.

chapter three

 “What do you mean it’s not the right papers?” Behati practically slammed her head against the table. This was their second visit to the caseworker at the consulate today, and the second time they were being sent away.

 “I need the papers from your caseworker at the agency,” she said, and Behati blew out a breath.

 “Listen, I went off the rails somewhere around 13 and booked it to Latvia. You guys should have evidence of me working.”

 “And listen to me,” the case worker said, looking between the two of them. “Somehow, you two got a loophole in the system. Behati, you didn’t exist and if you did, you were a minor, with no one to sign for you. You got married, but the divorce is going to require an even bigger loophole. Are you sure you two don’t want to consider counselling?”

 Behati wanted to scream in her face that it was a sham marriage, but that would probably lead to arrest. She knew that Adam and herself didn’t exactly portray a typical divorcing couple, but they didn’t protray a typical married couple either, so what did it matter?

 “I’ll make some calls,” the lady said, at last. “Stand by tomorrow, and I’ll see if I can get anything done.”

 “Great,” Behati stood, sighing. She was particularly on edge because they had been out longer than expected, without any of her things. Particularly, the syringes that were hiding in her bathroom cabinet. She was good at hiding it, but they had been out for 10 hours, running back and forth, and she was getting twitchy. “Fine, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

 “Thank you for your time,” Adam said, gracious and polite as always. It was one of the things she admired about him. He was never unkind, even if people were rude to him, or things weren’t going his way. “Hopefully, we’ll hear from you tomorrow.”

 “Why didn’t you just scream that she was being an incompetent idiot?” Behati asked, as they made their way to the car.

 “What would that have accomplished, love?” he asked. “I had a feeling that this was going to be difficult. Thank you for enduring it so far.”

 “No problem,” she replied, buckling her seat belt. “We’re going straight home, right?”

 “If you wish,” he said, pulling out onto the road. “Behati, there’s something I wish to speak to you about.”

 “Hmm?” she was fiddling with dirt under her nails, a nervous habit, and watching the clock. She calculated that now, in traffic, they would be home in 18 minutes, and she could be upstairs in 20 minutes, as long as no one stopped her. She dug her nails into her thigh to stop the trembling, and turned to Adam with a fake smile.

 “I’ve noticed that you’ve been on edge lately,” he said, turning a corner. Her eyes widened as she turned her head to him.

 “What do you mean?”

 “Just simply that it’s clear that you miss dance. I’m sorry you had to take time out of your career to be here to sort this out, I wish that there was another way.”

 “Oh, that,” she let out a breath, glad that she hadn’t been caught. “Sure, I guess. I thought I would like having a break, but I feel kind of …bored. Not that you guys aren’t fun.”

 He smiled.

 “No offense taken. The owner of Kulanu theatre has recently become a client of ours, and I understand they are having closed auditions next week. If you’d like, I could arrange that you could attend. I know auditioning is something you haven’t done in awhile…”

 “No, auditioning would be great,” she said, closing her eyes. The Kaluna theatre wasn’t anything spectacular, but she had always liked it. During the first world war, it had been a hiding place for many, and she always felt like there were great shows that came out of it, experimental works that weren’t tried anywhere else. It was the Kaluna theatre that had the ballerina dancing enpointe on top of steak knives. Behati always had a fascination with experimental and new theatre, all things she wasn’t allowed to do in the traditionalist Latvian National Ballet. “Can’t you go any faster?”

 “I’m going as fast as I can, love,” he replied, eyeing her. “Is there some reason you need to be at home.”

 “Skype call, with the theatre,” she lied. “In Latvia. Just to say hi to the girls.”

 “Right,” he glanced at the time. “It’s 2am in Latvia.”

 She shrugged, with a devilish smile.

 “And I’m quite sure they are up to no good. Can’t wait.”

 “Mm,” Adam replied, his mind already on other things. The Bluetooth rang in the car, interrupting them and Adam clicked the button on the steering wheel. Behati raised an eyebrow.

 “Fancy, old man,” she said, and he smirked as the call clicked on.

 “Got to stay with the times,” he replied. “Hello?”

 “Adam,” it was Rick’s voice that came through the stereo system, flat and monotone as always. On first impression, Behati hadn’t much liked Rick. She didn’t see why he had any reason to be depressed, with a successful life and a family that clearly cared about him. But the more she was around him, the more she realized that depression wasn’t always as it seemed. And it unexpectedly warmed her heart that to see the way Adam and Rick got along; the older always referring to the younger, including him and taking care of him. “Maurice is here.”

 “Maurice is at the house?” Adam said, clearly surprised. “Now?”

 “Yes. He wants to speak with you and only you.”

 “I’ll be there in 5. Please keep him busy,” Adam clicked off, his face furrowed.

 “Who’s Maurice?” Behati asked, momentarily distracted from counting down the metres until they were home on the GPS. It didn’t used to be like this. When it started, it was a leisure activity, something for fun, a social thing. She enjoyed the energy it gave her, the high and the lift.. but it took more and more to satisfy her cravings lately, and more frequently. She was running out of the supply she brought over, smuggled partly in her bag, partly on her body, and she wondered where she would find another dealer in such an uptight area.

 “He’s one of our new clients,” Adam said, tightly. “Behati, when we get home, I don’t want you hanging around, alright? Is there somewhere you can be?”

 “You’re embarrassed by me?” She glanced at her reflection in the mirror. The large hoop earrings and mess of red hair made her look like a gypsy today, but she didn’t think she looked particularly trashy.

 “Not at all,” he replied. “Maurice is not a good person to meet.”

 “Then why are you doing business with him?” she asked and Adam sighed.

 “That, my dear, is something I asked myself. Is that alright?”

 “Fine,” she replied, as they pulled into the driveway. They used the side door, which was normally reserved for the servants, and Adam gave her a kiss on the cheek, a gesture she was coming to appreciate it, before pointing her up the stairs.

 Her mind was too preoccupied on what was waiting for her on the top to think about what he was hiding from her. She took the stairs two at a time, smacking on her gum, and practically skidded into the room, locking the door behind her. She paused a moment, listening for anyone outside the hall, before heading to her drawer and opening it. There, beneath her leotard, was her stash, waiting for her and gleaming in the dying light.

 At first, she had hated the needles, waiting to pierce her skin and always leaving a trail of blood behind. She bruised easily, and it was hard to cover them up in the morning. But now, she was an expert, tying a stocking around her arm and finding the vein in under a minute flat.

 The second the drugs hit her system, she sighed a great sigh and fell back onto the bed, closing her eyes and letting them do their work. This was a different kind of floating, of falling through bliss and landing in heaven. The trembling stopped, her stomach paused in turning over and her head felt like a million stars had exploded inside. She could see the sounds from downstairs, each mummer a colour. The sensation of her bed sheets felt like silk and she rolled over, enjoying the simplicity of breathing in and out, feeling her breath hit her arm. She was in bliss, and she never wanted to move. After a moment, she loosened her makeshift tourniquet, and opened her eyes. Thank God traffic hadn’t been that bad, she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to last another moment. And thank God Adam hadn’t followed her upstairs. No doubt he’d disapprove, or worry, as always.

 Downstairs, Adam’s mind was not on what Behati was or wasn’t doing. He straightened his tie in the mirror, and headed into the kitchen, where Rick was sitting with Maurice, a tumbler of whiskey in both their hands.

 He gave Rick a pat on the back as he passed, reaching to shake Maurice’s hand. He tried to understand how hard Rick was trying to act normal, when, as the doctor’s explained, his mind was like a poisonous fog rolling in every afternoon. The effort he made was appreciated, although his brother was a shadow of his former self.

 “Maurice,” he said, cautiously. “I didn’t expect you.”

 Maurice was a big man, probably weighing more than both the brother’s combined. And unlike the brothers, he did not have an aura of attractiveness about him. His face was pock marked, with huge cheeks hanging off his face, and a nose that had been broken more than once. His eyes were a non descript brown, and squinty, almost pig like. And he had a leer about him, even if he was being friendly that made other’s uncomfortable. His teeth were yellow, and some were missing, and his clothes, while expensive, seemed unkempt. Adam did not like him on sight, but if they were to be in this business, he was the one that they needed to do business with.

 “I just wanted to come to make sure our deal was done,” Maurice said, smiling with his broken smile. “The product will be shipped out tomorrow.”

 “Starting tomorrow, yes,” Adam said, as he poured himself a drink. He wasn’t a big drinker, he enjoyed having a clear head, especially when dealing with clients. But Maurice was the kind of client who you dealt with, shot by shot, no matter how much of a lightweight you were. “16 of the shipping containers will have varying amounts of cocaine in them, due to cross the border in America on Wednesday. If they happen to choose those ones to ship, they will never find the false walls inside. I can guarantee your supply will be safe or I will take the hit myself.”

 “You will indeed, Mr. Katz,” Maurice said. “Because I’m always leery about bringing someone new on board. This is a small payout, a million or so, but you do a good job, and they’ll be many more like this.”

 ‘Our trucks have a reputation and they are backed by the Katz name. And this is not the first time we have dealt in the black market,” Adam replied. “Do not worry about a thing.”

 “I’m glad you said that to my face, Adam, because I hear you are a man of your word. It would kill you to break your word, wouldn’t it?” There was something evil in Maurice’s sneer, and Rick shifted uncomfortably. He had a feeling that it wouldn’t be Adam killing himself if his word was broken. This wasn’t the first time the Katz’s had dipped into the black market, it was true. But it was certainly the biggest. Their business had always bordered on illegal, crossing over to grey areas, and getting out before anyone noticed. For Adam, the acquisition of a transport truck company and smuggling went hand in hand. It was quick, simple and mostly anonymous. No one was hurt, according to him. Rick trusted his older brother’s advice, even if he didn’t trust the client.

 “Glad to be of service,” Adam replied. “Is there anything else?”

 Maurice lumbered up with quite an effort, shaking his head.

 “No, that will be all. I’m headed down to Victory, find myself a little piece of trash. I’m partial to redheads, do you know any?” He looked Adam right in the eye. The oldest Katz held his gaze steadily, without blinking. For the briefest second, he wondered if Maurice knew who and what he harbored upstairs. There was no way he could, he and Behati were rarely seen together.

 He wondered why it bothered him so much, to know another man would consider her. Behati certainly hadn’t been faithful to her vows, she was always up front about that, and he never cared before. And he had been a monk of late simply because no one else interested him. But when this drug lord looked him right in the eye, it made him uncomfortable, thinking of Behati on his arm.

 “Not at my disposable, no, “Adam answered, with a slight smile. “It’s a pleasure to see you as always, Maurice.”

 “And you,” Maurice said, heading towards the door.

 Only once he was in his car and his car was down the street did Rick speak. 

“What the hell was that about?”

 “Who knows?” Adam replied, shaking his head. “One more thing on a pile of disasters.”

 “How did the visit to the consulate go?” Rick asked, as they went back into the kitchen.

 “Awful. Apparently, we shouldn’t have been allowed to be married in the first place. But since we did, somehow, they are making it impossible to undo. It’s ignorance really. Just because it shouldn’t have happened doesn’t mean it didn’t. It’s like there’s no policy to undo a loop hole like this,” Adam poured himself another tumbler of whiskey. “How was your day?”

 Rick shrugged.

 “Fine, until Maurice showed up. Mother called and said that she is planning a ball for her grand return, and we should expect the invitations to arrive to be mailed out. “

 “Grand return,” Adam snorted. “She thinks she’s some sort of Duchess. A ball. Well, that will be fun.”

 “Hardly,” Rick replied. “A bunch of people pretending to be happy when they are really just showing off.”

 “Well hopefully we can have this all wrapped up by then. I sent Behati upstairs, I have no intention of her finding out about Maurice and the business there. If he already knows about her, she’s in danger, and the sooner we get her untangled, the better. Make sure to tell the others.”

 “Aye,” Rick replied, thinking his brother sounded more and more like the caring husband he denied being every day.

chapter four

 “Ooo,” Behati was sitting on the counter, wrapped a cardigan and leggings, and texting on her blackberry when she let out a noise of excitement. In the past 2 weeks, the Katz home had become a comfortable place, where she could do away with the makeup and public personality, to be comfortable. The leggings were skintight and the sweater was dangerously low cut, but she still looked warmer than she did when she had walked in the door. Adam looked up from where he was stirring pasta over the stove, the boys taking a break for dinner. “Etalk wants to do a story on me. Can they film it here?”

 Adam glanced around as if she had just asked him what the time was. Keith, sitting in the kitchen working on college courses, looked up with a snap.

 “What, really?” He knocked his textbook off the counter in excitement. Adam smirked.

 “Keith, you were well aware Behati had some celebrity, there’s no reason to behave that way.”

 “But to have a big new channel here, filming in our home? Of course you can! Can I be in it?”

 Behati grinned.

 “Sure you can.”

 “Behati,” Adam said. “This house is well known for being our residence. Are you sure you want to film an interview here?”

 “It won’t air for a month,” she said, scrolling down the email. “By then, all of this crap will be over.”

 “What crap?” Keith asked and Adam gave her a look, to silence her. While they were farther ahead in the divorce proceedings than before, they still had a long way to go. And if they had their way, no one would know that they were married at all.

 “A month? Perhaps that would be alright,” Adam replied. “Rick is the one who handles all of our media relations. If you need some help, he could assist you.”

 “I think I just have to reply to this email,” she replied. “And my agent will set it up. But cool, thanks.”

 “And then we can say we knew you!” Keith said and she laughed.

 “You can say that anyways,” she replied, leaning her head against the counter and closing her eyes. This moment felt perfect. She was warm, and happy and having fun. There was good food cooking and she was going out that night to a party that promised to end with sunrise. There was only one more thing that would make it more perfect; the floating feeling of bliss that came with a chemical high. Then she could really enjoy herself. Everything would be unparallel and wonderful if she could feel like she was walking on air.

 She hopped off the counter and was about to head to the stairs when Adam called to her.

 “Everything is almost ready.”

 “I’ll be right back,” she said, in a sing song voice, heading up the winding stair case. It was taking more and more to achieve the high she wanted, and she was almost out. But tonight, at the party, she was promised a new supply, with a better cut too.

 The second she injected herself, pushing the syringe half way, she knew something was wrong. She felt like her heart was going to pound out of her chest, and her stomach flipped over. She took a deep breath, and then another, but nothing was working.  

In a clatter, crashing into a wall, she barely made it to the bathroom before she threw up, hurling up every chip that she had eaten in the afternoon and even the scrambled eggs at breakfast.

 The world was going hazy, and she clutched the counter, slamming her knee into the counter and knowing it would leave a bruise. In her haste to grab a hold of something, she took the tension rod shower curtain down with her, in a giant crash. There were spots, large black spots, and she felt like her vision was tripled.

 Her head was millimeters away from smashing into the toilet bowl when strong arms caught her, in a jolt.

 “Woah, woah. I got you, love.”

 It was Liam, the middle brother, who caught her, his wiry arms proving stronger than they looked. He lowered her to the ground carefully, keen eyes going over her to make sure there was no immediate danger.

 “Liam, I…I…” she was panting and couldn’t get the words properly out. He put a cool hand to her forehead, brushing away sweaty hair.

 “Sssh, it’s ok,” he said, his voice remaining calm. “Adam!” he called, although it wasn’t in a panic. “Adam, can you come up here please?”

 Behati appreciated the level of calm in his voice, because if he started to panic, she was pretty sure that she would as well. She didn’t know what was happening to her, and she was terrified she was going to expire, then and there, in an ugly sweater and black eyeliner. But underneath the fear, her mouth still salivated for the high she would have gotten, had something not gone wrong. Her nails twitch, scratching at her skin to try and distract herself, even as Adam came thundering into the bathroom.

 Her head was clearing, and she figured that she had just done too much too fast. Her system had rejected it, and already, she felt like she could sit up.

 The first thing that came into focus was Adam’s concern, his eyes wide and his face frantic. She tried to smile, to reassure him.

 “I’m ok, it’s ok. I just got a little dizzy.”

 “Should I call 9-1-1?” Liam had the cordless phone in his hand, hovering over them.

 “It’s ok, really,” Behati managed, her mouth dry. “I just think that I didn’t eat enough today. I’m fine, please.” She forced a smile on her face, as Adam helped her sit up.

 “You’re bleeding,” he said, looking at her arm, and she immediately covered it up with her hand.

 “Must have knocked it somewhere. No big deal. I’m alright, really. Is dinner ready?”

 She was a performer, used to rolling with whatever happened. But what kept her going, although she did not have the energy to keep talking, was the thought that she might be kept inside tonight, kept from getting a new stash. And if Adam wanted a guaranteed reason to divorce her, she would give him one right there and then.

 “Why don’t I help you to your room and you can rest before dinner?” he asked, taking her under the arm and helping her up.

 “Uh, maybe, what time is it?”

 “It’s only 5:30, darling, relax,” he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead, and she closed her eyes. She was tired, and it was nice to have someone to take care of her. There had been too many nights of lonely hotel rooms, or even men who left when they were done with her. It was hard to get warm without someone else’s body heat, even when there was enough blankets to kill a horse. She relaxed into his arms, letting him take her to the bedroom. At the last minute, in the hall, however, she made a dive for the split.

 “Take me to your room, it’s more comfy,” the last thing that she wanted was to have him walk in on broken needles and pieces of glass. She didn’t know what state she left the room in, but it was guaranteed that there was some evidence lying around.

 Luckily, he didn’t question her preference, and steered her into his master bedroom, the king size bed light and fluffy and inviting.

 “I’m alright, I’m not going to break,” she said, reassured, as he sat her on the bed. At her insistence, he sat beside her, and she rested her head on his chest. His voice had a deep rumbling tone in it as he spoke.

 “I am worried about you, Behati. You have become awful thin lately. Are you sure you’re alright?”

 “Just need to stuff my face more,” she yawned. “Besides, what do you care?”

 He smiled.

 “I care because I…”

 And then he stopped himself, before the words came out. She pulled up to look at him so fast that her head spun. She fought the momentary dizziness however, in the seriousness of the moment.

“Because you what?”

 He opened his mouth and then closed it, after a moment.

 “I’ve know you 10 years, Behati, and whether you like it or not, we did take vows. It’s built into a man to care about his wife.”

 “No,” she snapped at him, her eyes widening. “Those vows weren’t real, Adam. Have you got so caught up in the charade that you’ve believed your own lies?”

 “I have not forgotten the reason for our marriage, Behati. But after 10 years, you don’t just let someone die on your bathroom floor.”

 She coloured.

 “I wasn’t going to die, Adam. Don’t be silly.”

 “Of course,” he pulled himself off the bed. “And if you are so cold and callous, why haven’t you found a hotel room and shown up in black sunglasses every day with a frosty air?”

 “What?” her mouth dropped. “It isn’t like that, you know that. I just don’t want you thinking this is something it’s not.”

 “I was burned by love once, my dear, and I will not make the mistake again,” he replied, bitterly. “Anyone who feels that way over another person is a fool, setting themselves up for disaster.”

 “Well…good,” she had no come back to that, and so she let it be, leaning against the pillows. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

 “Quite,” he replied, heading for the door. “You seem better now. Come down when you are ready.”

 “I will,” she called, and fiddled with her nails until he left. And then she let out a giant sigh. That was the closest they had come to saying anything real to each other, and it scared her.

 Of course, they were emotional, she told herself, something scary just happened. It was expected, and she shouldn’t look into it further. Adam was a rich man, a king among men, and he had gotten a bit emotional and had a bit too much to drink one night and married her as a casual favour, that was all. And she had accepted his offer because she loved dance more than anything in the world. What a different person she had been then, when it was the dance that fueled her and not the drugs. What a different heart she had then, when it was music and not chemicals that drove her emotions.

 But that girl was weak, and vulnerable, two things she promised herself that she would never be again.

 She didn’t say a word to him when she left the house that night, although it was clear he wanted her to. But Behati’s mind was on one thing and one thing alone, and she was gone before he could even bid her goodbye.

 “You’re mopey,” Liam said, as they chose that night to stay in. “Especially for a man who just made a million dollars at the snap of his finger. Could it be the impending arrival of mother, or the fact that your redhead dancer has gone out without you?”

 “Neither,” Adam said, carelessly. “Although this house is a mess, we will have to have it cleaned at some point. You know, despite being grown adults, whenever mother comes around, I still feel like a child. Especially when she scolds me.”

 “No doubt she will scold us, for whatever reason,” Liam replied. “Everything is perfectly in place for the welcome home ball she wants to have, we’ve executed her every move, and yet somehow, we will be in trouble.”

 “I don’t doubt it. Ah, if only I was Keith, the one who can do no wrong,” Adam said, glancing to where his younger brother was playing a video game rather than working on homework. Keith had been the favourite of their parents, there was no doubt about it. The miracle child, the surprise, and the last one before their father passed, he had always been the baby of the family. He was particularly close to his father, and while his brothers had done a good job of keeping him distracted, it was clear that Keith missed his father more than any of them. One day, being the youngest, he would likely be the last of the generation to take over this empire they had built. Adam wondered what a legacy they would leave him. Millions, yes, but at the moment, most of it dirty money.

 He had no qualms in how he had made their money. He didn’t shoot and kill people, he didn’t make choices to inject lethal amounts of medication or pull the trigger. People were inherently bad, he knew that, and there was nothing he could do to stop it, whether they dealt in legal goods or not.

 “Why did I get a media request form for Behati to be interviewed?” Rick appeared in the room at last, having shut himself away most of the night. At least, when he was working hard, Adam didn’t have to worry about him. Rick’s head was always in the game when he worked. How could he even consider not working when it clearly saved Rick from his dark thoughts? And it would provide Keith with a fortune long after they were all gone.

 “Oh, it’s just for ballet. She was often interviewed before,” Adam said, with a shrug. “She’s broken dance records, and she’s a well known name.”

 “How long have you known her?” Liam asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought this was a recent flame.”

 “I know how to use the internet, brother, believe it or not,” Adam replied, casually. “And how do you think I met her in the first place? Now, enough chatter. Mother is arriving tomorrow, we have a ball in 2 days, and I don’t think enough is done. For one, I have inside information that gold is going to go up several dollars tomorrow, so we should be taking this new found fortune and investing. Make a note to sell on Tuesday,” he looked at his brothers, expecting action. “Well, don’t just stand around.”

 “You’re a slave drive, Adam,” Liam said, at last, but followed his brother’s orders. They certainly didn’t make money by being lazy. When he was gone, Rick leaned against the mantelpiece.

 “Did you see what they want to interview her about?”

 “Hmm?” Adam asked, replacing a couch cushion. His mother did like to have things perfect, although no doubt it wouldn’t last. “No, what?”

 “Drugs in the dance world,” Rick said. “Apparently, there’s a surge of them, especially in the former soviet countries. Dancers being examples and role models and all that. Rather ironic, don’t you think, considering. Do you think that’s wise?”

 Adam paused a moment, and then his brain clicked into gear.

 “Oh my God,” he said, speaking slowly as the thoughts fell into place. “She is the most ironic person in the world to be giving that interview, isn’t she? I’m an idiot for not seeing it. Oh my God.”

 “What?” Rick asked, but he got no answer.

chapter five

“Yes, Adam, it’s true. But it’s once in awhile, it’s not that big of deal,” Behati smoothly lied to him on the morning of her interview. “You need to calm down.”

 “I am calm,” he replied, and indeed he was, at least on the surface. “I’m just concerned, is all.”

 “Well, you don’t need to be. And if you didn’t grow up such a boring stick in the mud, you would have done a line or two once in awhile,” Behati kissed him on the cheek. “Now, your mother is going to be here this afternoon, and the sooner I get this done, the better, so scram.”

 “Out of my own house, am I?” he asked with a faint smile. “I think I’ll stay, if you don’t mind.”

 “Suit yourself,” she shrugged, and checked her hair one more time. “Let’s go then.”

 Downstairs, in the sunroom, a camera crew was already set up and waiting for them. Behati had not let them do her makeup, insisting that she was fine. Ballerinas were known for being to do their own faces, and the makeup artist had just smiled and let her do it. Adam had to admit, she did a great job, even with shaky hands. She had lost even more weight in the past week, and he was sure she hadn’t heard a word that he said at the audition for Kulanu. But regardless of what her spaced out head and dilated eyes were in taking, she had radiated at the audition, impressing everyone. They had heard nothing yet, but he secretly hoped that she got it. Not for her, selfishly, but for himself. He realized he didn’t want her to go out into the world, not like this. He didn’t know how to address the situation, but he knew he could keep her safe if she was just close by.

 She was radiant, in her uneven skirt and high heels, her red hair a sharp contrast to her green outfit. Adam thought she looked like a Princess as she took her place under the camera lights. She certainly out shone the interviewer, who introduced herself as Amy, and was almost plain, in a brown dress and black flats.

 “Any questions, before we get ready?” Amy asked and Behati smiled easily, crossing her long legs and glancing up at Adam.

 “Nope, go ahead.”

 Keith snuck in, to stand beside his brother, a wide grin on his face. He had mostly been kept out of the spotlight, kept in school and on a good track. Despite his mischief, Adam had to admit he was turning out to be a pretty good kid. His grades were high, and he saw the world from such a different view. One day, when he was old enough, he would have an empire to take over, and Adam didn’t doubt that Keith would have made their father proud.

 Now, the teenager was shining with excitement as he watched every movement on the TV shoot.

 “Alright, let’s roll,” Amy said, putting on a TV smile as the red light went on. “Welcome to Etalk. I’m your host, Amy Porter, and we are here with Latvia’s Top ballerina, Behati Dane, in her American home. Now, Behati, you have to tell me, this is the home to the Katz Brothers, Europe’s richest family. What’s the connection there?”  

 She smiled easily, as if her secret was in no danger of being exposed.

 “The Katz’s have been patrons of the arts for quite some time, and I’m honoured that they have chosen to support the Latvian National for many years. I’m currently in auditions for Kaluna theatre, for some experimental work, and so it’s a good home base.”

 “So there’s no romance?”

 Adam sucked in a breath, but she didn’t even look at him. He wondered whether she would just blurt it out, and it alarmed him to wonder if it would be so bad if she did. Then, there wouldn’t be all this sneaking around, hiding, and whispers in a corner.

 “No,” Behati replied, a twinkle in her eye and a casual laugh. “I wish there was, they are quite beautiful, aren’t they?”

 Amy laughed.

 “Their faces are what keeps the general public buying magazines like Business Insider. Now, Behati, let’s get down to the meat of this. There’s long since been a history of drug use in the dance industry, for various reasons. Dancers want to stay skinny, dancers want more energy, or they simply just want to be a part of the trend. Now, the Latvian National has been under scrutiny several times for allowing, and even encouraging drug use. What do you think about that?”

 “I think those claims are stupid,” Behati replied, and sub consciously turned her arm down. Even though the bruise from the needle was hid by her sweater, she wondered if they could see it. “The Latvian National is one of the best companies in the world, and people will say anything when they are jealous, anything to make up for their short comings. The company is made up of wonderful people who are hard working, and I’ve never known anything bad to come of it.”

 “But there are claims, Behati, that those around you are fueled by chemicals constantly. And even your own face has been splashed across the national media for it.”

 “Well,” Behati laughed but Amy wasn’t easily persuaded. She turned her attention to a television monitor that had been set up between the two of them.

 “We’ve got some pictures of you throughout your career, shall we have a look at them?”

 “Go ahead, I’ve got nothing to hide,” Behati said, but now her smile wasn’t so relaxed.

 The TV screen went completely black from its fuzz, and then images began to come up. At first, they were professional images, of a young Behati as she sailed towards the height of fame. Adam smiled at the youth in her face, the brightness in her eyes. He remembered her like that, so many years ago, with that teasing smile and that pealing laugh. They included videos of her leaping across a stage, showing great talent, from the very first day she was cast.

 But then, the images and videos turned to a different story, and he saw what Amy was portraying. Behati, at dark parties, with questionable material around her. Behati, losing weight, skeletal, dark bags under her eyes and bruises on her arm. Dressing rooms with bottles of alcohol in the background, and ballerinas holding themselves up.

 He saw the tabloids that he had always dismissed as lies, and he saw the evidence. The girl in front of him was a shadow of the one he had married, and he realized that if she continued down this path, she would not be here in a year, married or divorced. This wasn’t a once or twice thing; this wasn’t a social calling. He was losing her, and he was losing her fast.

 Amy’s next words, however, struck fear into his heart.

 “And now, underground sources are saying that the Katz brothers are working with Maurice Richelieu, a king pin of the American drug trade…”

 Behati’s head snapped to Adam, who’s jaw fell open. Keith choked, and turned to his brother.

 “What?”

 “Enough,” Adam said, stepping forward. Amy looked shocked that her interview had been interrupted. “Enough. This is over. Get out of my home before I have you thrown out.”

 “Mr. Katz…”

 “No! Get out,” Adam snapped. “Now! Rick!” He bellowed down the hallway. Rick should have been supervising this whole thing, but he was God knows where instead. If Rick had been watching, perhaps they would have ended this mess before it started.

 Now, the regent Katz strided into the room, looking confused as to why everyone was standing there.

 “Get them out,” Adam said. “Before I sue them for slander. Out, now.”

 Rick nodded, unquestioning as Behati rose from her chair, facing Adam.

 “Is it true?” she asked, and he grabbed her arm, dragging her out of the room. Keith tried to follow, and for the first time in his life, he shut his brother out so he could speak to Behati in private. It was never supposed to come to this, this red headed ballerina was never supposed to take such a place in his heart. But it had happened before he could stop it.

 “Don’t we all have secrets,” he snarled at her, and reached to roughly roll up her sleeve. “I could ask you the same thing, Princess.”

 She pulled away.

 “You’re working with Maurice? Adam, what the hell is wrong with you? That man is a monster!”

 “And how would you know?” he spat. “Unless you’ve also been in contact with him. For different reasons, I assume.”

 “What I do isn’t any of your business,” she replied. “And we agreed on that from day 1.”

 “And my business isn’t yours, you made that clear. What is it you are really here to take, Behati? Is it a divorce you seek because there could be money that comes with it? So much money, I imagine. Half of 10 years income is a lot.”

 “No,” she looked appalled at this. “Your fortune has never interested me, Adam.”

 He made a face.

 “Such a good and faithful wife, aren’t you. Only interested in my citizenship.”

 “Why,” she demanded. “Has this become a fight. And when did this become something it’s not?”

 “What is it not?” he asked, and she looked like she wanted to throw a chair at him.

 “This is not a real marriage, this is not a love affair. And this certainly isn’t a tough love situation. We knew those things when we went in, and you made it quite clear the whole time that you didn’t love me, that you could never love me. So why am I standing her being screamed at?”

 He sputtered at that, trying to find an answer.

 “I didn’t say that I never cared for you. And if you never cared for me, why do you care whether I’m shot in a back alley? Maurice is good money, Behati, more money than you can ever dream of. And that’s all it is, business. It’s not personal.”

 “Like this marriage,” she replied, with crossed arms.

 “Like this marriage,” he echoed, although it was less convincing.

 They stood there, their chests heaving and arms crossed for quite some time before he finally spoke again. Outside, he could hear his brothers throwing out the TV crew, Amy protesting all the way. He knew this was going to be a nightmare to handle. And not so long ago, he would have been out there with him. But at the moment, he felt his priority was in front of him, living and breathing.

 “If it’s money you need, to get help…” he started, and she glared at him.

 “I don’t need help. Aren’t you all high and mighty, suggesting I need help when it’s people like you who are helping fuel the situation.”

 “What?” this comment didn’t make any sense to him.

 “What do you think you’re doing, Adam, working with Maurice? Do you think that the bags your transport go off to some happy land with rainbows and fairies? Some land where no one exists to take it and snort it, or liquefy it into their veins? You’re bringing it to people like me, so we can have a god-damn good time and not travel half way around the world to get it. You’re not on some moral high ground, your highness, you are on the floor with the rest of us.”

 Adam choked. He hadn’t expected such a speech to come out of her. And he certainly hadn’t thought about it that way before. But it was true, wasn’t it. He hadn’t thought about where the shipments were going, or who they were going to. For all he knew, they were coming full circle and going right back into Behati’s veins.

 The thought of her exchanging money, with Maurice or any of his associates, made his skin crawl. And she didn’t have that much money to begin with, he had seen her bank accounts. He knew how much the drugs cost, which made him wonder if she was exchanging any other favours. It made him physically shiver and he felt his stomach threaten to turn over, imagining this.

 People like Maurice had made her the way she was, collapsing on bathroom floors, finding true love with needles and energy from chemicals. People like Maurice, and people like him.

 “Behati,” he said, stepping forward, his voice soft. She waived her hand.

 “Forget it.”

 “No, Behati, I…”

 Her cell phone chose that moment to ring, annoyingly. Somewhere in the back of her brain, she realized she hadn’t turned it off for the shoot. It rang again and they both looked at it, the silence between them roaring. Finally, Adam spoke.

 “Answer it.”

 She thought about not doing it, defying him just for the sake of it. But glancing at her phone, she saw that it was an American number. She wondered if it could be her supplier, with a fresh shipment. Behati snorted slightly at the thought that actually, a supplier was standing right in front of her, in a well tailored suit.

She brought the phone to her ear, daggers in her eyes.

 “Hello?”

 “Hello, can I speak to Behati please?” came a female voice.

 “This is she?” Behati said, wondering if their epic fight was going to be interrupted by a telemarketer.

 “Behati, my name is Terri Turner, I’m the casting director for Kulanu.”

 “Oh, hi,” she replied, surprised. She didn’t think the Kulanu audition had gone very well. She was so used to traditional theatre, that the experimental dance movements through her for a loop. Her soul craved performance like that, but she ached for a full two days after the audition.

 “Behati, we were all very impressed with your audition, and your resume, of course. We’ve contracted the Latvian National about your loan agreement, and we’d love to have you on stage with us for the run of the show, as our Prima Donna.”

 “Really?” she grinned, the tension disappearing from her body. “Actually?”

 “Is that a yes then?” Terri’s voice was pure and happy.

 “Yes, send me the details, but I probably accept,” Behati replied, stunned. While she knew they would be impressed with her resume, she wasn’t sure her outdated style was what they were looking for. They said their goodbyes and she turned to Adam, who was waiting patiently. “That was Kulanu. They want me as their prima donna.”

 “I suppose that means you’ll be staying here then,” he said, his body still rigid.

 “Uh…” Behati replied, having not thought that far. She felt euphoric, happy, as if everything was going to work out. She felt like she was floating on a cloud, and for once, it wasn’t about the chemicals. It was a natural high, of happiness and life.

 “Well, you’re welcome to,” he said, softening. “Congratulations, my dear.”

 They were interrupted by a cry from outside the door, and both turned.

 “Oh boys! I’m home! Where are my sons?”

 “Mother,” Adam said, and glanced at her. She stood stock still, wondering whether he wanted her to hide. “Come Behati. You thought things were bad before, you haven’t met mother yet.” And he took her wrist, and pulled her out into the hallway.

chapter six

 Evangeline was everything that Adam had described and more. Overbearing, vain, and constantly in a struggle for power, she annoyed Behati for the moment she met her. She clearly did not approve of her oldest son being the ballerina, despite not knowing much about her. Apparently, it was enough for Evangeline to just look Behati over once and know everything about her. She had called her shameless, a hussy, trash, harlot and just about any other name in the book. It was clear that she thought Behati wasn’t good enough for her family, and that suited the ballerina just fine. They had made more progress in their divorce case. Their marriage had been 10 years after the fall of the Soviet union  , but the country was still in a process of rebirth. Their previously lost documents were starting to emerge, and it looked like, but the end of the week, they might have the proper paperwork needed, including their actual marriage certificate, to go through with a divorce. She would be free and clear of the Katz name before Kulanu went down.

 “I have to change everything,” she said to Rick one night as they were sitting in the living room. The only other one who knew about the situation, she felt like he was a confidant. Rick as quiet and with his outside point of view, often pointed out things she and Adam had missed. But mostly, she enjoyed staying up late into the night, talking to Rick about everything and nothing. He had a lot to offer, although it took hours to drag it out of him. She knew he had a history of depression, but listening to him describe what he went through was heart breaking. It made her own problems seem miniscule in proportion. She felt close to him, felt a bond she had not felt before. After all, he was her brother in law, and for the first time, she embraced it. He was an older brother to chat to, who offered advice that wasn’t tangled with romantic feelings, and she appreciated it. Rick, she would miss when she finally flew the coop. “My passport, my driver’s licence, everything. A legal name change the first time was hard enough, and now we do it all over again.”

 “You still use a stage name,” he said, after a moment. “You may not have to do a legal name change. An assumed name is good enough to change documents.”

 “Really?” she asked. “Isn’t that so much easier too?”

 “Yes, I can get you the paperwork, if you wish,” he said, fiddling with a couch cushion and letting out a long sigh. “It’s something to occupy the time.” 

 

 She glanced at him, taking in his pallor. Not so long ago, she would have offered someone in his position ‘something to take the edge off’. But tonight, the thing nearest to her hand was the TV remote and not a syringe. And she was flying high off a great rehearsal day. She didn’t feel like walking all the way upstairs and clouding her mind. So instead, she flicked on the TV.

 “Want to watch Spiderman?” she asked, finding the movie channel. He smiled, and she realized it was the first time she had seen him smile. Much like his brother, it was bright and wide, and although it didn’t reach his eyes, it was a start. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

 “Why not,” he sank deeper into the couch cushions. “Sleep eludes me, of late.”

 “I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” Behati replied, drawing her long legs under her, and leaning against the arm rest. “And that won’t be for years.” She yawned, and Rick glanced at her.

 “I hope not.”

 “Yeah,” she said, mostly to herself. “Me neither.”

 She was about to make a Spiderman joke to him at the dinner table one night, when Evangeline cleared her throat.

 “Who are you boys bringing to the ball tomorrow night?”

 Behati continued to cut her steak, her mind thinking about the rehearsal she had tomorrow, as they muttered answers. With their mother back in town, and pushing her way constantly into the office work, it was like they all regressed 10 years. She actually witness Evangeline scream at Liam, who was 3 weeks shy of 26, to go to his room. It would be amusing if it wasn’t so pathetic.

 “Adam?” she asked, and the heads at the table split their attention between Adam and Behati. She didn’t expect him to say anything at all. His newest trick was ignoring his mother, which seemed to work. Adam was head of the family, CEO of the business, and had a weight on him that was constantly growing.

 “Behati, of course.”

 Every jaw at the table fell open, some exposing their food. Not only had they never discussed this, the Katz ball was going to be a highly photographed and published events. In the words of lame tabloids, everyone who was everyone would be there. It would be full of rich and snooty guests, trying to outdo each other with better gowns and bigger jewels, and discussing business in stock market short hand. It was not Behati’s kind of party, and she expected she would need more than one drug to get her through it.

 But more than that, she and Adam simply did not go places together that were published. It was an unspoken agreement, from long ago. Neither would benefit Fromm each other’s company in their circles, and so they just didn’t do it. They were used to dates at home, with the bed not far away, or hotel bars that ended in elevator make out sessions, the clothes flying. He didn’t bring her flowers, she didn’t swoon at his touch, that was just the way it was.

 And yet, a shiver of anticipation went down her spine when he said that.

 “Don’t be stupid,” Evangeline said, and Adam calmly put down his fork.

 “And tell me, Mother, which part is me being stupid?”

 “You can’t bring her,” Evangeline said, as if Behati wasn’t in the room. She might as well have not been, from the shock that ran through her mind. She felt like she was having an out of body experience, like she was watching herself in this situation. Liam put down his napkin, settling back beside her.

 “This should be good,” he whispered.

 “Easy for you to say,” she hissed back, and reached under the table to take his hand. If ever she needed the support of her brothers in law, it was now.

 Evangeline looked like flames were going to start coming out of her eyes.

 “Because, Adam, Behati is not…she…”

 “She’s what, Mother? Or rather, what is she not?” Adam asked. “Because you asked who I was bringing to the ball and I gave you an answer. I don’t see what is so complicated about that.”

 “Adam!” She sputtered, horrified, and he raised an eyebrow.

 “But if you must have a reason, because I, somehow, in my thirties, my late thirties mind you, after running this company for 10 years on my own, and taking care of my brothers, your children, while you jet setted around the world, I must somehow justify my every move to you. So I will give you several reasons and perhaps they will satisfy you. On her own, Behati is a beautiful woman, full of elegance and poise, which she must have, to be a dancer. A very successful dancer, mind you, who is known around the world for her talent and skill. Since I have known her, there is not one stage she has failed to light up, and not one move she has failed to perform, no matter what her personal circumstances off stage. She is a young woman who has overcome great obstacle, when lesser women, and men mind you, would have given up. She has never asked me for anything, outside of one thing. Never money, or fortune or fame, or anything this family could have granted her. Everything that she has, she has because I offered or she has gained on her own. But on top of that,” he stood, throwing his napkin over his still full plate. “On top of that, Mother, and this is very simple, so see if you can wrap your head around it. I am bringing her to the ball, because she is my wife. And she has been for 10 years now. Is that a good enough reason?”

Behati could have heard a pin drop in the room. Her head spun and she thought she might pass out. Slowly, like a robot, she looked around the table at the shocked expressions. Liam had a half smirk on his face, as if he were amused by his brother’s outburst. Evangeline looked like she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her, then and there. Rick turned to Behati, as if she could clear up everything. Keith grinned.

 “Cool. I have a sister in law. Good for you, Adam. What’s for dessert?”

 “Wedding cake,” Adam said, holding out his hand. “Come, wife. Shall we to bed?”

 Behati scraped her chair back in the silence, and reached out to take his outstretched arm. They walked out of the dining room in silence.

 It wasn’t until they were in Adam’s bedroom that either of them spoke.

 “Am I tripping out?” she asked him. “Or did you just do that?”

 He sat on the bed, letting out a long breath. His hands were trembling, and he gripped them together in a fist.

 “It had to be done. I couldn’t take it anymore. I’ve spoken to her numerous times about insulting you. It’s just not becoming.”

 The ballerina shrugged, sitting in a chair across the room.

 “She’s right, though. All the things she calls me are true. I’m common, and a harlot, I’m trashy, I dress like a streetwalker. I know, it doesn’t shock me, I see those things in the mirror. They don’t bother me, Adam. I know who I am.”

 “The names you were called today may be how you define yourself,” he said. “But the name I called you is also part of it. You are my wife, and you will get the respect that title deserves. Perhaps even after it is no longer true.”

 “Right,” she curled her legs up under her, and picked at the chair. “I guess you have to take me to the ball now.”

 He laughed, shakily.

 “I guess there’s no way out of it. Is that going to be a problem?”

 “No,” she said. “I still have a vacation day from rehearsal I can use.”

 “I know it’ll be terribly boring, my dear,” he apologized. “You don’t have to stay the whole time.”

 “It’s alright,” she replied, with a shrug. “I don’t mind.”

 On a whim, she unfolded her legs, and went to sit beside him. Their hands joined, as if by magnetic force, and her face was inches from his.

 Their lovemaking was always swift, and forceful. It was never slow, never passionate and filled with sweet nothings. But as they kissed, she forced herself to slow down, to enjoy the delayed gratification as his hands slowly explored her body, as if for the first time.

 The first time had been in his hotel room, after one too many drinks, and with the knowledge that it was wrong, that it couldn’t be. In Latvia, she was 16 and a legal adult, the age of consent allowing her to love him all she wanted. But she didn’t want to, not then.

 Now, she wanted to take things slow. She wanted it to last all night, his eyes locked on hers and he slid off her dress, and ran his hands over her toned body. The minutes ticked by and turned into hours and they pressed skin on skin, moaned and were lost in ecstasy. She didn’t watch the clock, wondering when she could escape, meet her dealer, find her next stash.

 There had been other men, who she had used for power, for money, for drugs. Other men who she had hinted for gifts, for cash, for anything her heart desired. But as Adam had said, she had never asked for anything with him. Even the marriage had been his idea, whispered gently as she shook with fear about what would happen to her.

 This time, after they were finished, she didn’t run off to her own room, eager to stretch out on her own blankets and have her own space. Instead, she cuddled up, curling her body around him as only a dancer could do. She laid her head on a crevice in his shoulder, thinking how perfectly she fit, and ran her long fingers over his smooth, broad chest.

 He brought a lean muscular arm around her, holding her clothes, as he idly ran a hand through her hair.

 “That was nice,” he said, after a few minutes.

 “Yeah,” her breath was still coming in gasps, the ecstasy making her see stars. She rarely saw stars without her needles, but it seemed lately, there were natural ways to replace the highs she sought. Of course, she still craved her substances, still wanted them day after day. But not so much, and not so often. Spiderman with Rick had made her delay her normal dose a full four hours, and this epic lovemaking session had made her forget completely about what was waiting for her in her room. “Not a bad end to such a good outburst.”

 “Oh, Behati,” he said, rubbing her back. “I don’t know what came over me. One too many glasses of wine, I think.”

 She raised her head.

 “I remember what one too many drinks led to last time. Or rather, the first time. And that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

 “No,” he said, after a moment, a small smile playing on his lips. “It wasn’t so bad. It was rather good, actually.”

 She lay her head back down, closing her eyes. She was exhausted, and she could feel sleep taking her, safe and warm in Adam’s arms.

 “Good,” she replied, as she drifted off. Her room was so far away, and she was so comfortable and warm here. Perhaps the dose could wait, just awhile. Just a little bit longer.

chapter seven

  It was the most beautiful gown that she had ever seen in her life, and she had seen a lot of beautiful gowns. Designers often fell all over themselves to outfit ballet companies, which often needed fantasy gowns. But this one settled somewhere in between fantasy and reality, and suited her perfectly.

 It had a full tulle skirt, in white, and a sweet heart neckline, in black. Each piece was embodied with jewels and diamonds in the opposite colour. It was a dress that cost more than the National Ballet paid her in a week, and it fit her perfectly. When she opened it, gift wrapped on her bed, she fell in love. How Adam had found it and got it fitted without even telling her was a mystery, but he did it right.

 Her favourite part, however, was not the dress, but the tiara that set on top of it. Done in a Celtic style and meant to sit on top of her head, it was like a crown.

 “Because you are my Queen, “he said, the morning of the ball. “At least, for a little while longer.”

 “Mmm,” she didn’t acknowledge the comment, really, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Aside from dancing, she usually didn’t wear long skirt, or anything that came below her thigh. The neckline was high cut, and her eyes trailed to her arms, which held the ever present evidence of drug use. Their eyes met in the mirror, both of them looking at the bruises and track marks. For the box, Adam pulled a tight black sheer shrug, with an understanding glance.

 “Thank you,” she replied, putting it on. Now the look was complete. “For all of this. For everything. Now, hopefully your mother doesn’t have a secret plan to assassinate me when we come down the stairs tonight.”

 “She will accept you, my dear, “ he said, although he didn’t sound very convincing. She sighed, finally able to blurt out the question that had been burning on her tongue the whole time.

 “Adam, why have you not told them about the divorce?”

 He tried to ignore the question, moving her hair out the way to leave her shoulders bare.

 “You look beautiful.”

 “Adam!” She turned around impatiently. “You told them we are married and yet you neglected to mention a few little details. Why?”

 He shrugged.

 “I just don’t mention things until it’s set. You know how much trouble we are having with the paperwork. Perhaps it’s best to wait until it’s a done deal. I don’t necessarily feel like airing the circumstances of our marriage.”

 She sighed, shaking her head.

 “You are a strange man, husband.”

 “As strange as you are beautiful, wife,” he said, giving her a kiss on the head. “I have some things to attend to. I’ll see you tonight?”

 “Sure,” Behati’s eyes darted towards her desk drawer, where her needles were. She had been better, at least she had been trying to, but she needed courage to get through the night, to deal with his mother, with the level of etiquette the party required. Adam’s eyes followed hers, and he took a step forward.

 “Behati…”

 “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tonight,” she said, not looking at him. She didn’t want to tell him that this particular shipment that she had was one directly from Maurice’s line, it had his symbol on the baggie and everything. It was probably thanks to his delivery that she was able to buy it. Life would have been easier if she could have cut out the dealer, the middle man, all together, but she had a feeling he would lose it if she asked directly.

 She really had been doing better, and she almost fought the temptation to use it as he exited the room. If she hadn’t practically shoved him out the door, perhaps he could have stayed longer, they could have chatted, or kissed with knee weakening passion. Perhaps he could have taken her out for lunch or to a movie before the big night. 

But it was the drugs she had a date with, not her soon to be ex- husband.

 Outside the door, leaning against it, Adam heard the sounds of the bag opening, of her sigh as the drugs entered her veins. He knew exactly what she was going to do, and he couldn’t come up with a reason to stop her. He had no control, no hold over her, no reason to tell her what to do. After all, hadn’t he spent his whole marriage making it clear that he didn’t care about her?

 But as he heard her lie on the bed, the creak of the bed springs as the chemicals in her veins sent her into a false high, he wondered why he didn’t break down the door, tell her to stop.

 And somewhere, all around the country, girls just like her were doing the same thing while people that they loved stood by, helpless, thanks to his shipments.

 Their deals with Maurice were growing, and their bank accounts had never been so fat. The money that they made was invested and put into other projects, legal projects, projects to try and clear his soul. They made headlines twice for large donations to charity, and once for making a million over night in a smart investment. They had never flown higher, or been more successful.

 But with the fame, came downfalls, of course. There were rumors of their work with Maurice, and other black market deals, some of them true and some of them not. There were, for the first time, photographs of Keith coming to and from school, which made Adam see red. He had tried his hardest, especially after his father died, to keep Keith out of the media’s wrath as long as possible. But with these recent developments it was hard to.

 He had been away on business four days out of six so far this week, leaving Behati alone to deal with the divorce paperwork, or worse, his mother. It bothered him, that all he could do was make a long distance phone call once in awhile to try and assist her.

 And of course, there was the pure fact that the stress of keeping such a deal under wraps was weighing on him. The money was great, but perhaps not so great that it was worth it.

 Going down the stairs, to head out for his meeting, he called for Rick, who was supposed to join him. To his surprise he found his brother sitting in a living room chair, grinning at his phone. It was not that he was looking at his phone or in the living room that was shocking, but the fact that he was smiling, especially of his own accord.

 “What’s so funny?” Adam asked, as he slipped on his coat, and handed his brother’s over. “We robbed another client blind?”

 “No, it’s this video that Behati forwarded to me,” Rick handed over his phone as he put on his coat. It was a ballerina accident on stage that had a domino effect, including knocking over the conductor. Adam smirked as they went out the door.

 “I hope that I never see that at one of her shows.”

 “I do, it would liven things up,” Rick watched it one more time, chuckling and then put it back in his pocket. Adam gave his brother a rueful glance as they opened the car doors.

 “You’re in a good mood today.”

 Rick shrugged.

 “It’s a momentary bright spot.”

 “Do you like her?” Adam asked, as he started the engine. “Behati?”

 Rick shrugged.

 “Sure, well enough.”

 “No, I mean,” Adam took a corner. “I know she’s pretty, I know she’s funny, I know she’s adventurous. But as my wife, do you like her?”

 Rick glanced at him.

 “That’s kind of up to you, isn’t it, Brother? But you know I support whatever you choose.”

 Adam sighed as they stopped at a red-light.

 “She made you smile. More than once. That warms my heart, at least. Even I cannot get you to do that.” He felt like a failure as a brother, but it was the truth. When their father died, he had taken on the bulk of the responsibility, and had been so blinded by all of it that he had neglected Rick. He had been so busy ordering him about and relying on him, as usual, that he didn’t catch the hole his brother had fallen in. Rick had not turned to drugs, or alcohol, luckily, but it was still a hard journey that Adam sometimes wondered if he would ever recover from.

 “Adam,” Rick said, softly. “It’s not you. Or anyone. You know that. It’s me. It’s inside my head, a blackness I cannot fight.”

 “But my wife makes you smile,” Adam replied, softly. “And that’s one good reason to have her around.”

 “Yes, perhaps,” Rick muttered, looking out the window. “At the very least, it’ll be amusing to see her out dance everyone at the ball tonight.”

“Yes,” Adam answered. “It’ll be quite a sight.”

 The sight, however, did not start with her dancing that night. No one could take their eyes off the beautiful redhead as he descended down the stairs with her on his arm. She looked like a Princess, a Queen, a dazzling jewel among dab colours and weather beaten faces. She shone, and no one was scandalized by her. Behati was softer than usual, keeping her tongue in check and actually thinking about what she had to say. When she could come up with nothing appropriate, she smiled and let Adam take over the conversation. Adam wouldn’t have minded if she did interject once in awhile with some of her witty yet inappropriate remarks. Although people seemed to be having a good time, he caught a few yawns and blank stares.

 He danced with Behati, in full view of everyone, spinning her around the dance floor and listening to her wild laughter. She was happy, safe in his arms, and pulling him through a series of movements that left him sore the second they got off the dance floor to get a drink.

 “I don’t know how you do that, everyday,” he said, as he sipped champagne. It was cold, crisp and sharp, and it quenched his thirst instantly.

 “Practice, stamina,” she replied, with a shrug. “Takes awhile to build up is all.”

 “Well, you’ll have to teach me,” he said.

 Behati raised an eyebrow.

 “It takes years of practice, Adam, almost daily, at least weekly.”

 “I know,” he answered, calmly. “And you’ll have to teach me.”

 “Adam,” she interjected, and then he kissed her, in the middle of the grand ballroom.

 It felt like everywhere was melting away, like the ground had opened up and swallowed up all the other guests, and they were the only two people left in the whole room. He put his hand on the back of her head, pressing gently so that their kiss was deep and tight. She let her body melt against his, and she was lost in the kiss, in the passion, in the love.

 In the love. That was not something she had ever thought about when she kissed him. But as they pulled away, hazel eyes meeting green, she knew that there was something different. There was an intense weight on her chest, pressing against her heart. It was fear and it was panic, but the longer she looked into his eyes, she knew that it would be alright.

 “I love you,” he said it first, breathing it so softly she almost didn’t hear him. She felt tongue tied, strangled. Men had said that to her before, of course, especially after moments of passion, high on sex and chemicals. But this was the first time she knew it was real.

 “Adam,’ she said, trying to think logically.

 Everyone was staring at them, except for Keith, who was walking straight over to them, a mixture of confusion and fear on his face.

 “Adam?” he asked. “I know this is totally a bad moment, but a man named Maurice just called me on my cell phone? He wants to know what the ‘next step’ is.”

 “He should not be calling you,” Adam replied, pulling Behati close to him. With a glance around, he summoned his brothers close to him. It didn’t take much, seeing as they were all staring at him, open mouth. His mother, who happened to be on the staircase when he kissed his ballerina, descended downwards in a fit of rage. Adam silenced her with one glance.

 “As you can see, things have clearly changed around here,” he said, once they were all gathered around him. “Since I brought Behati home, we have both made a fortune and lost everything. Maurice called Keith, something we never want to happen. No, Keith, hush,” he said, silencing his younger brother’s protests as well. “But it’s more than threatening this family’s safety that has come to my mind. We have been so involved in doing business, in making money, that we have not stopped to consider who we have hurt. Standing in front of you is evidence of the drugs we have shipped, evidence of the destruction that we do,” he pulled Behati even closer, kissing her head and surprised to find tears coming to both their eyes. He had thought that she would be angry at exposing her, but her body slumped with relief as she buried her face in his chest. “Father left us to control this company on our own, and always encouraged us to follow our hearts; make our own choices, even if we regret them, it’s best we learn from them. So you can all continue if you want. But if this business continues to deal with Maurice and his likes, I will no longer be a part of it. I would rather have Behati, alive and well, and know we are not doing harm to the world, than all the fortune that comes with it.”

“Adam,” his mother snapped, her face darkening. “How could you try to ruin the empire that your father built?”

 “I am not ruining anything,” he said, looking into Behati’s eyes. “For 10 years, I’ve lived a lie and I refuse to do it any longer.” He looked up to his brothers. “So?”

 “For 10 years, you have led us,” Rick said, sounding strong and confident for the first time in years. “And I will follow you now.”

 “And I,” Liam said, without a shadow of a doubt.

 “Then Keith,” Adam turned to his youngest brother, a small smile on his face. “Are you also ready to follow us?”

 “Me? Really?” Keith’s face lit up. “Yes. What can I do?”

 “Call Maurice back and tell him to throw himself in a river. We’re done with him. And when you’re finished, I have a list of others that you can call,” Adam replied. He then turned his head to his mother, who seemed to have calmed down a bit. “And you Mother? Do you really think this is what father wanted?”

 “Will you really throw all this,” she gestured to the ballroom. “Away? For her?”

 “Not for her,” Adam replied, calmly. “For us. She is my wife, mother. Just as you were Father’s wife, a poor girl from across the world, who he flew overnight to scoop up and marry. Your own romance will forever live on. But will you let mine do so?”

 His mother opened and closed her mouth a few times, debating what to say. That was supposed to never be spoken of, what she was before she married his father. She had worked hard to erase that part of her life, to become someone that she was proud of today. No one was ever supposed to know about the three jobs she worked as a teenager, the hand me downs she wore or the skirts she sewed until they fell apart. And she remembered her own disapproving mother in law, who she worked so hard to please, but never did. She had earned her place in this family, in this ballroom, with four sons to be proud of.

  Adam’s words were genuine, and Behati had never looked more beautiful and pure, even with the mascara trailing down her cheeks.

 “Just as your father and I had to make our path,” she said, slowly. “You have to make yours. You have to prove yourself.”

 “And we will,” Adam replied. Behati looked up at him, having remained mute this whole time. “What do you say, love? Shall we give it a try?”

 “I…” she stuttered, unconfident and afraid. “So much pressure, Adam. I’ve never loved anyone.”

 “Do you love me?” he asked, simply and she squeezed his hand, looking up into his face. 10 years was a long time to be with someone already, and this was not the same smooth faced business man she had tumbled into bed with. Adam was weather beaten and battle weary. Age and time had not been kind to him and he was not the usual boyfriend found on the arm of a beautiful ballerina. They were usually young and strong, dancers or performers themselves, with well sculpted faces and high cheek bones. But they did not tell the dancers sweet things in their ears, did not stand up in front of their entire families and sing their love. They did not offer them homes like this, and opportunities for whatever their hearts desired. They were not her husband.

 “Yes,” she replied, at last. “I love you.”

 “Then let’s give it a shot, shall we?” he asked, again and leaned down to kiss her. She didn’t have a chance to say yes because his lips were on hers, but it was implied, by the way her body reacted. She loved him.

chapter eight

  “Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Katz,” their case worker said, when they walked into her office at the Latvian consulate a week after the ball. “I was just about to call you. I need a final signature and your divorce will be finalized.”

 “Really?” Behati said, with a grin. “Because you thoroughly had us convinced that we weren’t married in the first place.”

 “That’s not what I said,” the caseworker replied, a bit annoyed. “I said you shouldn’t have been married, legally, but you clearly found a loop hole to do so. So now that we cleared that up, if you can just sign here, than we can…”

 “What do you think, Adam?” Behati asked, with a smirk. “Shall we divorce just to get married again?”

 “The sight of you in a white dress would be quite appealing,” Adam replied, smiling at his wife, and then switching his glance to the case worker. “Please give me the paperwork, I will keep it in a safe place. But for now, Mrs. Katz and I have decided to give things another shot.”            

“What?” Their case worker looked like she wanted to strangle them. “After all that?”

 “Weren’t you the one who encouraged us to get counselling in the first place?” Adam asked, taking the paper work from her desk. “Clearly it worked.”

 “You went to counselling?” she asked, shocked.

 “Uh, no. We just tried a new approach. No more secrets, for one,” he said, folding it and placing it inside his suit jacket. “Thank you for all your help. We will contact you if we need, although I hope that we don’t.”

 He took Behati’s hand and they left the office before something could be thrown at them. Behati giggled as they headed back to the truck. She was always in a good mood in the mornings, the methadone coursing through her system.

 It had been her that suggested an outpatient treatment program first, before they tried anything more drastic, and Adam had been more than happy to comply, whatever she needed. She was dancing the lead in Kulanu in the evenings, a show he had yet to see. It meant for a busy schedule, but also meant that they had days free for themselves. She had wanted to be by his side continuously, so she had attended any meetings he had, including the dismissal of Maurice. It had all been very civil, especially for a drug lord. But it turned out Maurice had a soft spot and a wife he had loved very much in his youth. So, although he made a few lewd comments about Behati, he had let them go with minimal trouble.

 Tonight, Adam had plans to see her show, sitting front row, alone, much as he had the first night that they met.

 “Well, I’m glad that’s over with,” Behati said. “Although not quite the way I planned it when I landed here.”

 “And you’ll have to return, at some point, to Latvia,” he said, and she turned to him.

 “Yeah, about that. I talked to them about the extension of a loan, and it turns out, a loan extension of y services out runs my contract.”

 “Hmm?” he asked, as he started the car.

 “The last contract I signed with Latvia was for 3 years, and that runs out next week. SO technically…”

 “You don’t have to go anywhere,” he said, piecing it together. “Behati, I don’t want you to make that kind of choice, especially for me. You love to dance.”

 “And I’m 27, and I can’t dance forever,” she reminded him. “But it’s more than that. They were restricting me. Fame aside, the stuff I’m doing with Kulanu is much more interesting. I would much rather be doing stuff like that the rest of my life than do swan lake for the hundredth time. Mind you, the money is not as good.”

 “What do you have need of money for?” he asked her, softly. “You are a Katz now, free and clear. You will want for nothing. Is that what stopped you before?”

 “I don’t want to take anything from you,” she said. “I can take care of myself.”

 “But it’s my pleasure,” he answered. “To take care of my wife. Anyways, you won’t be taking anything from me. My father set up a trust fund for our wives, as soon as it had happened. Technically, you should have had money 10 years ago. So I’m sure there’s quite a back log.”

 “Adam,” she rolled her eyes. “That’s so…rich people.”

 “It is,” he answered, with a laugh. “But that’s what it is. So if money has stopped you from performing the kind of dance you want, than you need not worry any longer.”

 “Any other secrets you want to tell me?” she teased him, as they cruised down the road.

 “Just that I love you,” he said, glancing at her. “And I’ve been quite a fool to deny it all this time.”

 “That’s not a secret,” she answered. “ I think I’ve loved you this whole time as well. I just was afraid of doing it.”

 “Well, you don’t need to be afraid any longer. How are you feeling my dear? Do you want some lunch?”

 “Lunch would be wonderful,” she said, delighting in the impromptu date they could have now.

 That night, as he dressed for the theatre, Behati already back stage somewhere, he realized his heart was beating fast with anticipation. He hadn’t been excited about seeing her, up until now. But he felt an immense sense of pride as he took his seat in the front row, the lights dimming.

 The first night he had seen her, he had been enchanted, much as now. But things were different, then. That first night, when he sat in the seat, his suit had been a day old, his schedule not allowing him for sleep. He had gone to the ballet for a break, looking for somewhere he could be anonymous in the dark. He had been exhausted, and more than a little drunk on pre-show champagne. His mind had been constantly turning over possibilities for the company and was still struggling with the grief of his father’s death. He was lost and he didn’t know how to be found.

 He fully believed it was that it was the show that had saved him from falling into the same hole as Rick. As the young ballerina danced across the stage, he had forgotten all that bothered him, lost in the music and letting it carry him through the story. Behati was beautiful, pure and like a princess as she danced.

 Tonight was a different kind of show. There were hip hop moves, circus moves, and ballet faux pas. It was Le Traviata, a classic story redone in a strip club. His wife, spinning on the brass pole, captured the whole audience, and brought a cry of amazement as she back flipped to land en Pointe, in a pirouette. Her tone body was on display, and 10 years ago, he would have been scandalized by this kind of theatre. But now, he saw the originality in it, the risk and the talent, and he was blown away.

 But in Le Traviata, he also saw the mirroring of his own story. The young and beautiful courtesan, who was shunned by high society, falling in love with the upper-class nobleman, all the while hiding the fact that she was dying inside. In Le Traviata, it had been changed to AIDS, but Adam could see just as easily how it could have been drugs that took Behati away from him.

 On stage tonight, she was still thin, still had the faint scars on her arms, but she looked healthier than she had when she arrived, and certainly happier.

 Half her costume was her own, it was that kind of theatre, and he smiled in memory of the night she had modeled half a dozen outfits, in lingerie and not much more, asking what he preferred. And he had told her plainly, that he liked them all and much better than her usual leotard. It was time for a change in the Katz household, and it started with her.

 At intermission, unable to be away from her any longer, he snuck backstage, navigating the underground corridors to find her dressing room.

 Pushing it open, he found her facing the mirror. She jumped at his presence, and for one heart stopping moment, he thought the object in her hand was a needle, that she was falling back into her own ways. But it turned out that she held a chopstick, and was trying to hastily eat in between shows.

 “My dear, you were radiant,” he said, as he had said the first night, and handed over a bouquet of red roses. She took them gratefully, pushing her food aside to lay them in front of the mirror.

 “Thanks, I wasn’t sure if you would like it.”

 “I like anything with you in it,” he replied, reaching into his pocket. “Although I do have a suggestion for the second act.”

 “Oh?” she cocked her head, amused. “What’s that? Wear more clothes?”

 “Wear something, yes,” he said and presented her a small jewelry box. Her jaw fell open and he smiled.

 “Forgive me, it should be done like this,” he said, getting down on one knee, and opening the box. Inside, was two plain gold bands, square cut. He could have gone for something extravagant, something flashy, but Behati wasn’t like that. Their love was quiet, secretive but had always been there. He took out the smaller one, presenting it to her. “I thought perhaps, that it’s time to start wearing wedding bands. I should have done this 10 years ago,” he slipped it on her finger and then took the larger one and put it on his own. Matching, they glinted in the light.

 “It’s beautiful,” she said, admiring it and then kissing him. “I love it.”

 “I love you,” he whispered into her hair. “Now, I should go, and let you finish.”

 “I’ll see you after the show,” she said, and he nodded, going to take his seat again. Yes, she would see him after, and every night after. For this was his wife, and he was her husband, and it was a secret no longer.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 17.01.2016

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Widmung:
A 10 year age difference and with an agreement that this would not turn into a relationship, he married her and she stayed. But now, 7 years later, having seen each other off and on, they find themselves at a cross roads. Do they sign divorce papers, and walk away, or is there something brewing underneath that is too real and too dangerous to ignore?