Richard Blackwood stands there in a suit that probably costs more than my semester's tuition, looking completely at ease despite the heat. His presence here, in my daytime world, is so jarring that I stop dead in my tracks.
"Ms. Young," he says, voice carrying across the distance between us. "A moment of your time?"
I approach slowly, caution overriding curiosity. "How did you know where to find me?"
Richard's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "I have my ways."
"What's happening?" I ask, stopping a few feet away from him. "With Theo. The video."
"Handled," Richard says, the single word carrying the weight of finality. "Mr. Mason has had a change of heart regarding his academic future. He's transferring to a university on the west coast, effective immediately."
I stare at him, trying to process what he's saying. "He's... leaving? Just like that?"
"Just like that." Richard straightens from his position against my car. "His parents were quite understanding when certain... indiscretions of his came to light. They agreed a fresh start would be beneficial."
The implication is clear. Whatever leverage Theo had on me, Richard had more on him.
"Why?" The question escapes before I can stop it. "Why would you do this for me?"
Richard studies me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "I protect what's mine, Ms. Young. My club. My employees. My investments."
"I'm just a dancer," I say, the words bitter on my tongue.
"You're a medical student working to pay your way through school," he corrects me. "A survivor using the resources available to you. I respect that."
The way he says it—like he knows exactly what I'm surviving, exactly what drove me to Rhapsody in the first place—makes my skin prickle with unease.
"How much do you know about me?" I ask, suddenly aware of how vulnerable I am, standing alone in the deserted area with a man who apparently has the power to make people disappear.
"Enough." Richard reaches into his suit jacket and withdraws an envelope. "This is for you."
I don't take it. "What is it?"
"Insurance." He holds it out, waiting. "In case anyone else decides to threaten your future again."
Slowly, I reach for the envelope. It's heavy, expensive paper sealed with what looks like actual wax. The kind of thing I've only seen in dramas.
"Thank you," I say, because what else can I say to the man who just eliminated the threat to my entire future?
Richard nods once then walks away, leaving me standing in the heat with an envelope I'm afraid to open and questions I'm afraid to ask.
When I’m alone, I finally break the seal on the envelope. Inside is a single sheet of paper. Not a letter, as I expected, but a contract. The heading reads "Rhapsody Employment Agreement – Specialized Services."
My eyes scan the document, catching phrases like "confidentiality clause" and "personal security detail" and "compensation package." At the bottom, a figure that makes my breath catch. More money per month than I make in three at my current arrangement.
And below that, a handwritten note in elegant script:
Your education is an investment worth protecting. These terms are negotiable. —RB
I stare at the contract until the words blur together. Until the reality of what's being offered sinks in.
Not just protection from Theo. Protection from anyone who might threaten my double life. Financial security that would mean fewer nights on stage, more time for studying.
All for... what? The contract doesn't specify what "specialized services" entail. Doesn't clarify what Richard Blackwood expects in return for his generosity.
Nothing comes without a price. I learned that lesson early and often.
I fold the contract carefully, sliding it back into the envelope. The weight of it seems to grow heavier in my hands, a physical manifestation of the choice before me.
