Chapter 1
ALYANNE
“I’m not staying with Nina tonight!” I heard Alysanne shouting from the bathroom. I tried to tune out her protests and focused on the stubborn eyeliner line I just couldn’t get right.
No matter how much experience I have with makeup, I always struggle to make my eyeliner perfectly symmetrical. Those sharp lines usually make my doe eyes pop, but with the mask covering my face during performances, I guess it doesn’t really matter. One last try — and if it fails, I’m done.
“I’m tired of you treating me like I’m six years old!” Alysanne’s latest outburst threw me off, and the once flawless line started to smudge.
I put down the pencil and stood up. That’s it, I give up.
I opened the door and met a pair of large, light brown eyes.
“What’s the problem with Nina? I thought you liked her,” I asked, crossing my arms as she rolled her eyes and handed me her phone. Curious, I took it and glanced at the screen.
“See for yourself what she dared to post on her story!”
I narrowed my eyes at what had upset her so much — a photo of her, engrossed in one of her beloved books. Alysanne is a devoted reader. Her room is home to a whole library, books meticulously organized by genre, author, and theme. The book in the photo was the latest novel I bought her — a tragic love story between two doctors. I haven’t read it yet, but I know the characters, and I even have my own favorites, thanks to Aly who loves sharing her feelings about them, even when I try not to let her spoil my reading.
“All I see is a picture of you reading,” I shrugged, handing the phone back.
Nina takes care of Alysanne when I’m at work. Aly doesn’t like the word “babysitter” — she’s grown up and hates feeling treated like a kid.
“But why is she secretly taking pictures of me and posting them on social media? I don’t want her here, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” she snapped.
Here we go again…
“Aly…” I said, sitting back down and taking her hand gently. “I know you’re old enough to take care of yourself. I just want someone there, just in case — in case something happens or you need help with anything.”
Alysanne has been paralyzed from the waist down and uses a wheelchair since she was seven. She’s cautious and slow to trust others. The only people she truly relies on are her two friends, Soraya and Eva, and me. The problem is, I can’t always be by her side — I work hard so she can live the life she deserves. So, someone needs to be there when I’m gone. Nina is the fifth “caretaker” in three months that Aly has wanted me to fire. She hates photos, and I made it clear to Nina not to do anything Aly didn’t want when I hired her. This puts me in a tough spot, and unfortunately for Aly, I can’t let Nina go — not right now.
“I don’t trust Nina anymore. Can’t you stay with me tonight, Alyanne?” she begged, eyes wide.
I sighed, and my expression said it all — it was impossible.
“I wish I could. You know I would if I could — I’d stay up late listening to you rant about the latest drama in one of your novels.” She smiled softly.
But I can’t. I’m working tonight, and there’s no one to cover my shift at the restaurant.
She tossed her head back and turned away.
I tried to hide my smile, but when our eyes met, we both burst out laughing. We both knew what was coming next.
“Alright, alright. But tomorrow, we’re going to the bookstore because I need a fresh stack of books to read. Soraya and Eva can come too, and then we’ll grab something to eat. That’s my condition for letting Nina stay with me tonight,” she declared, crossing her arms.
This is usually how I make it up to her for leaving her alone when I work. The next day, we go to a bookstore, and she picks out as many books as she wants. Honestly, I don’t get why she still needs so many when I bought her a Kindle for reading on the go. I find physical books bulky, but she disagrees — she says books have a charm that electronics will never have. She’s the expert, after all.
“Deal,” I said, holding out my hand. She gripped it firmly, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
This little one is incredible.
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“What’s the plan for tonight?” I asked Makeda, helping her finish off her hairstyle.
“A private party thrown by some rich drunk,” she said, tapping on her phone.
Makeda and I have been friends for five years, and we work together too. She helped me find my voice in all my relationships and taught me how to handle life’s pressure. Without my friends, I don’t know where I’d be or if I’d have the strength to get through it all. She was the one who convinced me to join the Warriors. She founded our dance crew — the “Warriors” — made up of her, four other girls, and me. Makeda has olive skin; Her almond-shaped eyes are a deep brown, almost black, and she has a goddess-like figure. She’s a big player and has broken more than one heart. We’re a private group, meaning we only perform at exclusive parties. We’re in such demand that we can choose to accept or decline bookings.
At first, I was hesitant — the insults on social media stung: “courtesan,” “luxury whore,” “light woman,” “prostitute” — and worse. But eventually, I learned to block out the hate. People are cruel behind their screens, judging and tearing down lives they know nothing about. The worst part? We don’t sleep with these men — we just dance. I can’t imagine the abuse if our faces weren’t masked.
“What kind of guy?” I asked, curious.
“The businessman, Vincenzo Russo,” she said, showing me a photo of a man in his thirties — dark hair, a square jaw, eyes sharp as the night.
“He’s not bad, huh?” she teased with a wink and sly smile.
I shrugged and went back to fixing her hair. Yeah, he’s handsome — but I’ve seen that type before. He’s not going to settle down with a dancer at a private party. At best, he’s a player. I accepted long ago that love isn’t for me. Not everyone is meant to get married and have a family — I’m one of those people. I don’t believe in love anymore, or at least… not like I used to.
“You think I have a chance?” she asked.
I put down the comb and wiped my hands.
“You’re a bombshell, Makeda. Any man who wouldn’t want you is crazy,” I started. “But this guy? He probably already has some wealthy girlfriend spending money without blinking. If not, he’s a player. Plus, he’s not your type. Forget him.”
I headed toward the dressing room to grab my things for the night.
She’s famous for breaking hearts and making players fall in love. In a way, it’s karma for all the men who played with women’s feelings. I can’t remember the last time I saw her truly in love these past five years.
“How long has it been since you’ve been with someone? Since a man has touched you? Three years? Four?” she asked, following me and grabbing my shoulders.
“Don’t start,” I warned.
Makeda is frustrated I haven’t been with anyone in a long time. It doesn’t bother me. My last relationship ended badly. I found my ex in bed with another woman — I’d come by because he said he was sick. He tried to apologize many times, but I just can’t forgive him.
“I can’t believe what happened with Scott is stopping you from opening up to men again.”
“…It’s not just that. Men lie, and I’m tired of believing them. They never keep their promises,” I said, sidestepping her to grab my bag.
I didn’t hear her follow, so I guessed she understood and was leaving me alone — which was surprising, since she can be relentless.
I grabbed my bag and decided to message Nina to check on Alysanne. I hoped she was managing. Aly and I are thirteen years apart. Even when our parents were alive, I treated her like my daughter. My mom used to call me her “second mom” because that’s what I meant to her. I never thought I’d become her first.
Life gives you everything, then suddenly takes it all away — as if to let you taste happiness before throwing you into a whirlwind of pain. I gave up my youth and studies to take care of her. It’s the best choice I ever made. If I had to do it again, I would, because I’d give everything for her.
“Who exactly are you thinking about? Something tells me it’s De…”
I spun around so fast I nearly knocked her over and covered her mouth with my hand.
“No saying his name around me,” I said firmly.
She raised her hands in surrender, and I dropped mine.
“Sorry, it slipped out.”
She changed the subject after that, and I silently thanked her. There’s a man behind my distrust and disgust toward men — not Scott, my ex, though he only made it worse. There are loves you wish you could forget, moments you want to erase, but if it were that easy, everyone would do it.
We arrived at the party, and the luxurious villa didn’t surprise me. It sat just steps from the sea, perched high enough to offer a stunning view. The architecture was a blend of modern style and tradition. The flat garden, planted with delicate Mediterranean flora, made the whole place even more beautiful. It was clearly the house of my dreams. I’d always wanted to live by the sea. Some dreams are just meant to stay dreams, I guess…
“Ready, Warriors?” Shirley called, returning from checking the stage, wearing her black feathered masquerade mask decorated with flowers on one side. Each of us had a color: blue for Shirley, red for Makeda, green for Jodha, yellow for Andrea, purple for Hinata, and black for me. I chose the most ordinary color because I didn’t want to stand out — but apparently, it didn’t help. The “black warrior” had many admirers.
Our outfits matched our colors — flowing mousseline belly dance skirts, soft and comfortable. Tassels and diamond detailing made the costumes stylish and elegant. Our dance bras and belts were hand-stitched with rhinestones, adding sparkle and glamor.
“Yes,” we all answered together.
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes as I always did before a performance, and reminded myself why I was here. I opened my eyes, steady and determined, and stepped onto the stage.
We began our usual bachata hand movements, but when I caught sight of the man sitting alone at a table with two women and another man, my feet froze.
My breathing quickened, and the world seemed to disappear around me.
How could I forget him when he’s carved so deeply inside me?
I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted to forget every moment i spent with him, but waiting for him was killing me.
I was going crazy.
Declan.
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Hey guys !
I hope you’re well ! Here’s the first chapter of a story with i think will please your heart ❤️. Some stuffs may not sounds smooth because i translated it so let me know in comments aniway how you feels ❤️
