CHAPTER IX

P laying music had always calmed me and provided me with a safety bubble whenever I felt lost, especially these past few months. I was excited to give Sam her first violin lesson and pass on my knowledge to her.

Sam’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as she held the instrument in her small hands.

“Alright, Sam, are you ready to start your violin lesson?”

She nodded vigorously, a bright smile spreading across her face.

“First, hold the violin under your chin like this.” I demonstrated, nestling the violin under my chin. “Make sure it’s secure but not too tight.”

Sam watched me closely and followed my instructions, adjusting her hold. “Like this?” she asked.

“That’s perfect. Now, let’s focus on the bow. Hold it gently and place it on the strings like this,” I said as I showed her. “And remember, the sound comes from the way you draw the bow across the strings.”

Sam tried to mimic my movements. Her face scrunched up in concentration, eyebrows furrowed, as she drew the bow slowly across the strings. After several attempts, the result was a high-pitched squeak.

“It’s so hard! It keeps making funny noises.”

I smiled, trying to ease her frustration. “That’s okay, Sam. Playing the violin takes time and practice. Trust me, it took me a good number of attempts before I overcame that annoying squeak.”

“Really?” she asked.

I nod. “Let’s try it together.”

I demonstrated the proper bowing technique, creating a melodic sound that filled the room.

“Now you try, Sam. Remember to keep your wrist relaxed and draw the bow smoothly across the strings.”

Sam took a deep breath and tried again, this time managing to create a soft, gentle sound. “I did it!”

I laughed. “Yes, you did.”

As the lesson continued, I introduced Sam to different notes and simple melodies, guiding her through each step with patience and encouragement.

“Let’s try playing ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.’”

Sam followed my lead, playing the notes with increasing confidence.

“Good job, Sam!”

Sam beamed up at me. “Thanks, Winter! I want to be as good as you one day.”

I smiled and pulled on Sam’s braid affectionately. “You will be, with lots of practice and determination.”

As the lesson wrapped up, I heard a soft knock at the door. I set my instrument aside while Sam carefully tucked hers away, and I got to my feet.

When I swung the door open, Sam’s mom stood there with a friendly smile. I moved to the side, allowing her to enter the apartment. “How did it go?” she asked as she entered.

“It was awesome!” Sam said and looked up at me with a smile on her face. “Winter is the best teacher. Thank you, Winter.”

“You’re welcome, Sam. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Keep practicing, and I’ll see you next week.”

After Sam and her mom left, I placed my violin on its stand before moving it to a corner in the living room. Just as I settled in, a sharp knock at the door broke the stillness.

I glanced at the clock above the television—6:35 p.m. I frowned. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Maybe Sam had forgotten something. I scanned the room to see if Sam had left anything behind, but nothing of hers was in sight.

Another knock reverberated through the small apartment.

I approached the door and peered through the peephole to see a young man standing on the other side. He wore a tailored suit, but something about him felt off; maybe it was the black ink of a tattoo that peeked out from under his crisp dress shirt, creeping up his neck like a shadow. “Who is it?” I called through the door, my heart pounding. There was no way in hell I was going to open the door to give him a chance to chop me up into little pieces and turn me into Hannibal Lecter’s next victim.

“Miss Winter? I have a special delivery for you,” came the muffled response from the other side. I hesitated. What I saw out the peephole made my stomach twist. No way. Was that...?

I finally opened the door. “Did anyone ever tell you that you look like an older, dark, twisted Hero Fiennes Tiffin?” I blurted out.

The man raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his hazel eyes. A wry smile crept across his full lips as he replied, “I...I don’t know how to respond to that.”

A charged silence hung between us until the sound of a neighbor’s door creaking open shattered the moment.

“Um, these are for you,” he said, offering me a beautiful tall, wrapped box from a flower shop and another smaller, square package.

“For me?” I asked, surprised as I accepted the gifts.

“Yes, Miss Winter,” he confirmed.

“It’s just Winter, not miss,” I corrected him.

He responded with a smile that revealed perfect white teeth.

“I’ll let you get back inside. Have a good night, Mi?—”

I shot him a warning look.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich. “Winter. Have a good night, Winter .” He inclined his head slightly in my direction and turned on his heels. I watched him walk down the steps until his figure faded into the shadows. I then stepped back into my apartment, locking the door behind me. When I set down the boxes on the table, I focused on the tall box first. I turned it over in my hands, inspecting it from every angle, trying to figure out how to open it.

My eyes landed on a small label that read “Pull here.” With a gentle tug, the box unfolded gracefully into four sections. The flaps lay flat against the table like wings. My breath caught in my throat at the breathtaking arrangement of red and white roses in a sleek black vase.

“Oh, my God,” I said in awe. “These are so beautiful.” I looked to see if there was a note or something that would tell me who sent them, but I didn’t see anything. Shoot. I should’ve asked the Hero lookalike.

I moved on to the next box. Now, that was easier to open. The box contained a black heart-shaped box wrapped in a red bow. As I pulled it open, I smiled when I noticed a variety of candy bars. Then I saw the note laying on top. Five chilling words were scrawled in an elegant script:

You will never escape me.

My breath hitched.

Nico .

I had known Hero wannabe wasn’t a regular delivery boy.

That night when Nico yanked me off the stage, an unexpected swell of relief washed over me. I never thought I’d be grateful to be freed from the spotlight, where I had to dance half-naked, exposed to the hungry gazes of men who looked at me like I was some prized possession to be claimed.

But ever since that night, I hadn’t been able to shake Nico from my dreams. Nico’s touch lingered on my skin, his intoxicating scent wrapped around me like a warm blanket, and his intense gaze—oh God, that gaze—held me hostage. It brought me to the cusp of surrender, ready to do whatever he wanted. It was terrifying, but exhilarating too, like jumping out of an airplane for the first time.

And now, here I was, staring at the gorgeous flowers and my greatest temptation, both sent by him, a reminder that there was no escaping him.