Chapter 5: Pirouette With The Devil
1491 Words
The bakery smelled like sugar, cinnamon, and exhaustion.
The neon sign outside flickered “CLOSED,” but inside, two women sat surrounded by open ledgers, scattered receipts, and half-eaten pastries. Heaven had one hand buried in her hair and the other tracing figures on the page, the digits blurring together into bad news.
The shop had been cleaned, Lyra was in bed, there was just one more thing to tackle. Finances. The bane of her and Celeste's existence.
Celeste, perched cross-legged on the counter like a spoiled cat, flipped another page dramatically. “Well,” she sighed, “if we sell our souls, we might just make rent.”
Heaven didn’t even look up. “We can’t. Yours is already on loan.”
Celeste gasped in mock horror. “Excuse you! I only rented it to the devil for a month, and that was for coffee money.”
Heaven snorted, but her eyes stayed on the numbers. The laughter didn’t last long. “If we can’t pay suppliers next week, we’ll have to shut down. The rent increase….”
“...is daylight robbery,” Celeste interrupted. “We should protest. Throw cupcakes at the landlord.”
Heaven gave her a dry look. “You threw cupcakes at your ex. You nearly got arrested.”
“I was trying to make a point.” Celeste scoffed as she twirled her hair over and over again.
“Yes. That you are insane. I swear at that moment, bro was glad he dodged a bullet.” Heaven snorted as she relieved the comedic memory. Celeste slammed her fist on the table.
“He deserved it,” Celeste said, munching a cookie. “Anyway, we’ll figure it out, right? We always do.”
Heaven smiled faintly, tired but determined. “Yeah. We’ll figure it out.” They had too.
For a moment, silence. The hum of the fridge. The faint buzz of the fluorescent lights.
Then
Knock. Knock.
Both women froze.
Celeste’s head snapped to the front door. “Heaven… please tell me that’s not the debt collectors.”
“No,” Heaven shook her head even as her body begged her to flee.
“Yeah right, we both know those people are brutal with zero moral code. I am not ready to die yet, I am still so young and pretty!” Celeste continued to rant. Shaking her head, Heaven knew whatever happened next was up to her.
She rose slowly, squinting toward the glass. Outside, under the weak streetlight, stood a man in a black suit. Tall. Imposing. Hands clasped neatly before him.
And smiling. Albeit faintly.
“Oh hell no,” Celeste whispered. “That’s not a customer. That’s a horror movie.”
Heaven wiped her hands on her apron and approached the door. She cracked it open an inch. “We’re closed.”
The man bowed slightly. “Miss Lark?”
Heaven’s stomach twisted. “Who’s asking?”
“I’ve been sent to escort you.”
Celeste, from behind, hissed, “Escort? Like… kidnapping escort?”
The man blinked politely. “To teach a dance, Miss. You’ve been requested.”
Both women stared.
Heaven frowned. “At ten p.m.? Who exactly requests a dance lesson in the middle of the night?”
He smiled faintly. “A generous client.”
Celeste perked up. “Generous, you say?”
“The pay is…” He leaned forward and whispered the amount.
Celeste’s jaw dropped. “For one lesson? Heaven, grab your shoes and shut up!”
Heaven gawked at her. “We don’t even know who…”
“What about Lyra!” She tried again, but Celeste just fetched her phone.
“Her babysitter,Chloe, is on her way…oh! There she is! Any more complaints?” She Heaven the side eye.
Frantically Heaven tried to think about a different excuse, but it was futile, her daughter was fast asleep and Celeste was already yanking her coat off the hook. “If we die, bury me with my paycheck.”
Heaven groaned. “We’re absolutely going to regret this.”
~~~
The ride was silent, at least for Heaven.
Celeste, however, couldn’t stop talking.
“Maybe it’s a celebrity! A royal! A secret ballet lover who wants to surprise his wife!” she gushed.
Heaven didn’t answer. Her eyes traced the passing scenery: the streets growing darker, quieter, richer. The air thickened with tension the closer they got.
When the car turned through a pair of wrought-iron gates that could pass for fortress doors, Heaven’s stomach sank.
Guards. Everywhere.
She leaned forward, voice tight. “Excuse me… who exactly is your boss?”
The chauffeur met her gaze in the mirror, calm and professional.
“Welcome,” he said smoothly, “to the Romano estate.”
Celeste blinked. “Romano… like… pasta?”
Heaven closed her eyes. “Oh God. Oh no. Of course.”
The car rolled to a stop before a mansion that looked more like a cathedral of sin. Towering pillars, black marble steps, and too many shadows for comfort.
The moment they stepped out, two armed guards approached. “Security protocol,” one of them said curtly.
Celeste froze as the man patted her down. “Sir,” she squeaked, “that’s not my weapon, that’s my inhaler!”
The guard blinked.
Heaven’s turn came. She stiffened, glaring. “You people always frisk first, talk later?”
No one replied.
They were finally ushered into a long hallway lined with gold and silence. The echo of their footsteps felt too loud.
Celeste leaned close, whispering fast. “This is it. This is how we die. We’ll end up as mysterious corpses with perfect posture.”
“Stop talking,” Heaven hissed, her nerves unraveling. “You’re making it worse.”
“I’m serious! They’ll harvest our organs! I knew I should’ve updated my will! I should have kissed Lyra once more.” Celeste was officially in a full panic mood, and it was obvious by her nonsense.
“You don’t have a will, and you kissed Lyra so much she became pissed off!” Heaven shot back.
“I was going to make one, and she wasn't!”
Another guard gestured them forward. Celeste panicked.
“Please, we’re dancers! We need all our toes!” she cried.
“Why do you think they'll care that we dance? They already know that!” Heaven shrieked.
“They also know that we are healthier than most. They are after our fresh organs I tell you.” She ended, crying frantically. Celeste fell to the floor with all the grace of a tragic heroine. And all the beauty.
“Let us dance for you! We'll convince you we are worth more alive!” Celeste cried hysterically, and Heaven nodded frantically even as the guards exchanged looks of pure mirth. The devils!
Heaven, in full-blown hysteria now, blurted, “We’ll dance for you! Ballet, salsa, interpretative trauma…whatever you want, just don’t shoot!”
The men exchanged baffled glances again.
One muttered under his breath, “Are they drunk?”
Celeste clung to Heaven’s arm, shaking. “Tell them about the cupcakes! They’re soft-hearted people, I can tell!”
“Oh my God, Celeste, stop…!”
Then, the air changed.
Colder. Sharper.
A voice sliced through the chaos, low and deadly.
“Do you want them dead?”
Everything froze.
The guards straightened instantly, eyes wide. Heaven felt her entire body lock up.
The voice came again, closer this time. “If yes, then go ahead and dance, Swan.”
Her heart stopped.
Enzo stood in the doorway, sleeves rolled up, jacket discarded, black shirt open just enough to reveal the tattoo inked across his collarbone.
His eyes…those dark, knowing eyes locked on her like he had been expecting her.
He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. The tension in the room bent toward him.
Heaven couldn’t move. Celeste’s fingers dug into her arm.
He took one step closer, gaze sweeping the guards. “Out,” he ordered.
They vanished without a word.
Now, only silence remained. The kind that made her ears ring.
He stopped a few feet away from her. “You have a habit of appearing where you shouldn’t,” he said softly, almost amused.
Heaven’s throat went dry. “We. We were told this was a dance class.”
“Mm.” He tilted his head, eyes glinting. “It is. A very private one.”
Celeste whimpered. “Heaven, he’s joking, right? Right?”
Enzo’s lips curved faintly. “Welcome home.”
The words hit her harder than any threat.
Home?
Her pulse spiked.
No. No, no, no.
Whatever this place was…As long as he was in it, it was hell. Was this a kidnapping disguised as a job offer? Oh god.
Small feet pattered overhead, and Heaven lifted her head in surprise as a small voice shot an ache through her chest.
“Daddy?”
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