Pointe and possession, p.1
Pointe & Possession, page 1
Pointe & Possession
V.M Morgan
Copyright © 2024 by V.M Morgan
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact authorvmmorgan@yahoo.com
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Contents
Content Warning
1. Chapter 1
2. Chapter 2
3. Chapter 3
4. Chapter 4
5. Chapter 5
6. Chapter 6
7. Chapter 7
8. Chapter 8
9. Chapter 9
10. Chapter 10
11. Chapter 11
12. Chapter 12
13. Chapter 13
14. Chapter 14
15. Chapter 15
16. Chapter 16
17. Chapter 17
18. Chapter 18
19. Chapter 19
20. Chapter 20
21. Chapter 21
22. Chapter 22
23. Chapter 23
24. Chapter 24
25. Chapter 25
26. Chapter 26
27. Chapter 27
28. Chapter 28
29. Chapter 29
30. Chapter 30
31. Chapter 31
32. Chapter 32
33. Chapter 33
34. Chapter 34
35. Chapter 35
36. Chapter 36
37. Chapter 37
38. Chapter 38
39. Chapter 39
40. Chapter 40
41. Chapter 41
42. Chapter 42
43. Chapter 43
44. Chapter 44
45. Chapter 45
46. Chapter 46
Afterword
Content Warning
This book contains content such as, blood play (during menstruation), light torture, unintentional eating disorder, and parental death.
1
Aurora
Me: If I hear one more freaking conversation about this engagement party, I will stick rusty nails in my ear holes, istg.
I sent the text off to Charlotte and turned my music up a couple clicks. Fern was downstairs on a rampage about the caterers suggesting melon skewers. Apparently, my stepsister was of the opinion that melon skewers are for poor people. My phone lit up from its spot on my chest and I propped my book against my thighs to open Charlotte’s response.
Charlotte: Ew. Thanks for that imagery. But also, same. Fern’s driving me nuts.
I laughed and texted back.
Me: You’ve never even met her!
Charlotte: I’m annoyed vicariously. She’s annoying you, you won’t stop complaining about her. Therefore, she’s annoying me, too.
Another outraged screech echoed from downstairs and I winced in sympathy for the poor party planners.
Me: Shut up. If I didn’t complain about her, I’d kill her and we both know I’m not cut out for mob life. I’m too pretty.
Charlotte: Stfu. You know you’re gonna make an amazing mob wife someday. Hell, you’re already good at staying hidden and keeping secrets.
My stepfather’s voice called out to me, echoing up the stairs and I jumped in surprise, quickly sending a “Gotta go, ttyl” text before making my way out of my room. The wedding planner passed me in the hall, her head down and her feet moving quickly enough to start a friction fire. I rolled my eyes as resignation settled in my chest, heavy like lead. This was not going to be a fun conversation.
I walked into the sitting room but stayed quiet, knowing better than to speak before spoken to. My stepsister was still seething over the caterers daring to suggest something as peasant as melon skewers. Elio was using his placating voice, trying to calm her in the way one might try to calm a feral alleycat.
Honestly? Accurate.
I rolled my lips between my teeth and tried not to laugh at my errant thoughts. Just as Elio looked at me, I relaxed my features into the mask of the dutiful stepdaughter awaiting his instructions.
“Aurora, Fern needs a new dress for dinner with her cousins this evening. She’s too busy arranging the engagement party with the planner. You’ll need to have an entire outfit ready for her by six p.m.” I barely resisted rolling my eyes at another mention of the fucking party. I looked at my watch, noting it was only eleven.
“Okay, I can do that. I have rehearsal at one, so I’ll be in the area of some of the shops. Do you have a color preference?” I asked Fern, tone politely interested.
“I was thinking chartreuse today, with fuschia heels.” My eyes nearly fell out of my head at the imagery of those two colors blended into one outfit. I wondered if she even knew what they were, or if they just sounded like designer colors to her. She truly had one of the worst senses of style I’d ever seen. She was currently wearing a pair of “trendy mom jeans” that actually looked like she’d pulled them from a homeless shelter’s dumpster. She paired them with a brown sweater that she was trying to pull off as a cold-shoulder, slouchy sweater - but was actually just four sizes too big and hung on her frame awkwardly.
“Got it. Elio, I was going to ask you something, if you have the time?” I made sure to coat my voice in sugary sweetness that tasted like ash on my tongue. He rolled his eyes but waved his hand for me to continue. “I wanted to request that my presence be excused from the engagement party. I would hate to accidentally embarrass you around all your acquaintances, and God forbid, I don’t want to do anything that might shame Fern in front of her new family.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, seeing straight through my excuse, but he couldn’t exactly call me on my bullshit since he used the same excuses every chance he could, to keep me out of the public eye. He rolled his jaw while he thought of a response.
“If you do everything Fern needs you to this week, you can be excused from attending. I assume you’ll be seeing the senator’s daughter?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I hadn’t made any plans, since I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to attend or not. We’ll probably go to dinner or something, if that’s alright.”
I knew he hated Charlotte, but he loved her senator father and his connections.
“Fine. As long as you do everything Fern needs you to.”
“Of course, anything I can do to ease the burden of party and wedding planning.” I looked at Fern with wide eyes, trying to pull off an innocent, worried look.
“I’ll make a list for you.” She smiled gleefully and I knew this week was going to be a busy one.
I dipped my head respectfully before backing away and walking back to my bedroom. I picked up my phone and moved into my closet.
Me: Gotta run some errands for Fern before ballet. Wanna come?
While I waited for Charlotte to respond, I changed into some soft, faded jeans and a black sweatshirt with a skeleton holding up a peace sign while taking a selfie on the front. My phone buzzed in my pocket as I pulled on my converse.
Charlotte: Duh! Meet you at Thai Moon?
Me: See you in 30!
I made my way to the garage and got in my 1996 Toyota Camry. It was the oldest, dingiest car in the garage, but I didn’t mind. Cammy had character. I breathed a sigh of relief as I passed through the gates of the property, thanking whoever was listening that Elio cared so little about me. Normally, the fact that he didn’t care about me was a bad thing, resulting in pain and misery. But it was also the only reason I was allowed these moments of freedom, going to ballet and sneaking around to lunch with Charlotte. If I had guards, I’d never get a chance to sneak in these small pleasures - these few moments to myself where I get to be happy and free.
I parked in a lot down the street from the restaurant and made my way towards Thai Moon. The cold, early-November air bit at the skin on my face and I wrinkled my nose against the sting. Once inside the restaurant, I took a seat at a table near the front windows and waited for Charlotte.
The restaurant was nice, not really upscale but also not a shady place. It was in a decent part of town. You’d be just as likely to find a businessman in a suit as you would a family full of rambunctious children here. I knew Charlotte would be coming from class and it would take her a while to get here, so I ordered a hot tea, dumped in a sickening amount of honey and pulled out my current read.
Three pages later, the bell over the door rang and I looked up to be sure she hadn’t gotten here early. A man in a really nice sweater that I kind of wanted to rub my cheek against was walking out with a small group of people. He paused on the sidewalk to shake hands with an Asian man and woman. He was striking with a strong, shadowed jaw and dark hair. His skin was tan and looked smooth, like it would feel like satin under my fingers.
The sleeves of his sweater were pushed up to his elbows, showing off tattooed forearms, corded with muscles and veins, dusted with dark hairs. I didn’t know arm porn was a real thing until that moment.
An elderly man with a neatly trimmed, gray beard was standing behind Mr. Tall, Dark And Handsome and I took a moment to study him, too. He seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place why. He had blue eyes that felt warm and wise, but also kind and comforting when he looked briefl y my way, scanning the street. He tapped the younger man on the shoulder and they seemed to say goodbye to their companions, turning to walk a few steps up the street. They stopped at a car that was parked against the curb right in front of where I was sitting by the picture windows. The older man slid in the backseat first while the younger man spoke with who I assumed was their driver. When he turned to get in the backseat, his eyes met mine through the window. He paused, one leg in the car, and stared at me. His green eyes were bright against his olive complexion, the odd color reminding me of a piece of sea glass I found at the ocean when I was younger, with a ring of dark green around the outer edge. My face flamed but I couldn’t look away. The spell was finally broken when the bell over the door chimed again and I jumped.
Charlotte waved at me as she made her way towards the table, but my eyes were drawn back to the man on the sidewalk. He was sinking into the backseat, but his eyes remained on me until the driver closed the car door.
“Oh my gosh, it feels like I haven’t seen you in a week!” Charlotte said as she leaned down to hug me.
I laughed. “That’s because you haven’t, Char.”
“You know, I never thought to ask, but how is it that you’re under lock and key ninety-nine percent of the time, but you always manage to get free on Mondays and Thursdays? Oh, I’ll have sweet tea with an orange slice, please!”
The waiter walked away and she took her seat across from me. “Elio likes to control my every move, but I’m not worth wasting valuable men on. Why send them with the stepdaughter he wants out of his life anyway, when he could put them on a task he actually wants them to do?”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “God, I hate that man. I know that he’s like some kind of all-powerful deity in your world, but I would literally give my right ovary to watch that man go down.”
Unlike most of the world, Charlotte knew who Elio really was. She knew about the businesses that were actually just fronts for illegal gambling rings and sex clubs and fight nights. “I know what you mean. He and Fern both. But without him, I’d be on the streets, or worse. After my dad died, if he hadn’t married my mom, who knows where we would have ended up.” She huffed and looked at me doubtfully. I sighed. “I can’t prove it, Char. It’s only speculation.”
“I know!” she cried. “I just wish you’d go to the Concordia. They could help you, if you’d let them.”
“Or they could kill me for bothering them without proof. I can’t just take speculation to them and hope they’ll help me. Just because I think he killed her, or had her killed, doesn’t mean he actually did.”
She looked at me sadly for a moment before her eyes dropped to the table. They caught on the book I was still holding and she reached over to take it. “What’s this one about?” she asked, forcing her voice to sound light and chipper.
I allowed the subject change. “It’s a romance about a baseball player who’s secretly in love with his stepsister.” She looked at me with wide eyes. “In his defense, they weren’t step-siblings when he fell in love with her. His teammates though, they know they’re stepsiblings and just don’t care. They want them both anyway.”
Her eyes widened further. “All of them want her?” she asked disbelievingly.
“Yep. And she wants them all, too.” I took the book back and shoved it in my purse. “I really wish you’d read my recommendations. The first one in this series is about a woman who’s in love with a whole band…and they’re all in love with her, too. And two of them are in love with each other, also. Very convoluted.”
“That’s…kind of hot,” she said reluctantly.
“Exactly. And when you get to the part where the two bandmates are together…” I trailed off and fanned myself with my menu.
We chatted through lunch and I paid before we left, walking up the street to a few of the boutique shops Fern liked. I told Charlotte what Fern had requested and she burst into laughter.
“I swear, that woman has no sense of style,” she said through her tears.
We walked around two of the shops, Moneyed, where I found a pair of magenta heels, and Pink Pisces, where I found a God-awful matching necklace. In the third shop, Blissed and Blessed, I found a dress that was as close to chartreuse as I could find on short notice. I held up the heels and necklace next to the dress and Charlotte gagged dramatically.
“My God, it looks like a toddler ate too much Halloween candy and threw up all over the mannequin.” We both laughed hysterically as I grabbed a dress in Fern’s size off the rack. As we made our way up to the register at the front, I saw a flash of tan skin and bright green eyes.
For a moment, I was convinced I’d seen the man from the restaurant, but when I did a double-take, looking immediately back to the spot I thought he’d been, it was just an empty sidewalk. I frowned at the spot for a moment, cocking my head to the side and wondering if I was losing my mind.
“Are you okay?” Charlotte asked, laying a hand on my arm.
“Yeah,” I drawled. “I just thought I saw…” I trailed off, realizing that if this was a man Elio had sent after me, I didn’t want Charlotte to know. If anything happened to me, she’d go bat-shit trying to make Elio pay for it, using her father’s influence to try to take him down. I frowned again before shaking my head and turning to Charlotte as I approached the clerk behind the register. “Never mind. It was just one of those weird trick-of-the-eye moments.” I gave her what I hoped was a bright smile. She hesitated but gave a small smile back, her face colored with confused worry.
On the sidewalk, Charlotte hugged me and gave me her typical spiel about being safe and staying away from Elio, if I could. I promised to text her after rehearsal and headed back down the block to my parked car, still seeing tattooed, tan skin, black hair and bright green eyes everywhere I looked.
2
Callahan
“Ten thousand if you can get me into the cams at Primo Ballet on Ninth and Adams.”
The line was silent for a moment. “Uh, not that I’m not willing,” Nate said as his keyboard clicked in the background. “But…why?”
“I don’t pay you to ask me questions, Nate. Just do it.”
“Oooh, growly Cal today. You know growly Cal is my favorite.”
Despite my irritation at the fact that I couldn’t get the little blonde out of my head, I laughed at his harmless flirting. “Growly Cal would like you more if you’d get him into the cams so he could spy on a little blonde ballerina.”
Nate faked a gasp. “Oh, be still my broken heart! A woman?! How could you do this to me?” His keyboard clicked some more and a burst of feminine laughter echoed faintly down the line. He huffed an annoyed sound and I arched my eyebrow.
“It’s all fun and games, until it isn’t anymore. When are you gonna nut up and tell the man you’re in love with him, Nate?”
Nate growled. “Never, and you’re not going to tell him, either, you insufferably nosey Irishman.”
“Oooh, growly Nate,” I threw back at him. It successfully eased his tension and he breathed a small laugh.
“Okay, man, the feed’s being sent to your cell. Also, would you mind telling me why you’re parked outside Primo and spying through their cams? Who’s the blonde? She’s pretty, I guess, if you’re into the fairer sex. Also, why were you outside women’s boutique shops all afternoon?” Before I could respond, he gasped. “Bro, are you stalking, my friend? When did you become a stalker? How long have you been following her? OH! And she was at Thai Moon earlier?”
I growled again, irritated for the first time with his computer skills and ability to find anyone, anything, anywhere, and he laughed loudly, hanging up before I could answer him. I opened the text he sent through and clicked on the link. The video feed of a ballet studio filled my screen. The little blonde from Thai Moon was the only person in there, other than an elderly woman who circled her critically as she danced.
I swallowed convulsively and watched her move around the floor in smooth, fluid movements. Her grace was mesmerizing. There was no pause between movements, one flowing smoothly into the next and the next. My eyes refused to leave the screen as I watched her dance. My chest felt funny and my breathing sped up. I was no stranger to attraction, but this was different. I wasn’t just simply attracted to her.
