“You can’t let Ryan take the job,” Jasmine says, her tone growing urgent now. She clutches my arm. “I shouldn’t say this, and if you tell anyone I did, I’ll deny it, but keep Hallie away from Dimitri. Let her be good and safe and healthy. Let her have a future outside of this world.”

“What’s your room number?” I ask.

“Room two twenty,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Like 2020—for good luck.”

“Of course he would request that.”

“I’ll cover your meal if you cover for me,” she says, holding a finger to her lips. “Go.”

I race to the elevators.

Chapter 21

• CHAPTER 21 •

The moment before I knock on Dimitri’s door, my stomach tightens and my mind spirals into tight focus. It’s the same sensation I used to get right before I saluted the judges and strode forward to perform a routine. I knock.

Dimitri opens the door. Surprise flits across his face.

“Hi,” I say.

He doesn’t greet me.

“Your girlfriend’s here,” he calls over his shoulder.

He cocks his head and clicks his tongue, signaling for me to enter. Somehow, that’s more humiliating than him shutting the door in my face. There was a time I spent more of my day with him than with my own parents. Now he won’t even use my name.

The suite is far larger and nicer than the room I’m staying in. The bedroom is identical to mine, but there’s also a lounge with a pair of upholstered armchairs and a love seat arranged around a coffee table. There’s a crystal decanter of whiskey with two matching, half-filled glasses. Ryan rises from one of the armchairs, confused.

“Avery? What are you doing here?” he asks.

“I’d like to talk to you,” I say, hoping my voice comes out steady and strong.

“I’m in the middle of something,” he says helplessly. “I texted you earlier, remember? I said we’d catch up later?”

“I know,” I say.

“Is everything okay?” he asks.

There’s real concern in his voice.

“Well, yeah, I’m fine, but…” I wish I had prepared something more convincing to say ahead of time. “I just… I really would like to speak with you. Now.”

“Where are your manners, girl?” Dimitri says, looking amused. “We’re working out business here.”

The way he calls me girl, it’s like he’s hurled me more than a decade into the past. He has a knack for making me feel so small. It makes me burn with rage, especially because I know he’s right—I barged in here without an invitation—but I can’t apologize. I can’t bow down in front of him and pretend to be sorry. I’m not.

Ryan looks from me to Dimitri and back again.

“Go,” Dimitri says, waving his hand to dismiss us both. “Ryan, we’ll talk again tomorrow.”