The tribute to Grady was tonight and my legs were restless. What had I been thinking? Of course he wouldn’t see it. The guy clearly hated my guts. I still hadn’t heard a word from him since I’d left him standing in the driveway of the cabin. I couldn’t believe how much of a fool I’d been.

But at least my luck was changing. With the money from this season, I’d actually be able to afford to finish college next semester.

Dancing under the Stars had changed so much from when I’d been on it. Now it was all about the drama—fake fights between the judges and dancers, showmances, and scandals. And the dancers were now treated as celebrities.

I emerged from the production trailer, shaking at the thought of reentering my own world. My skin sparkly, my dress sequined, my nerves shot. The sun blinded me, illuminating me in a beam, like maybe an alien would abduct me from this place. Maybe I hoped it would.

I walked toward the sound stage.

I was sure the public thought that this show was filmed on some glamorous set, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. We were housed in a studio in the back of the lot that resembled a high school auditorium. The audience members were sandwiched into chairs around the stage, and the “ballroom” wasn’t even regulation size, which made it impossible to dance a decent waltz. Last time I’d danced here, the show had this amazing live band, true musicians to play our songs. Always warmed my heart and reminded me of my favorite competition, Blackpool in England—the only competition where we danced to live music. But the TV band had been fired, and we would now be forced to dance to crappy prerecorded songs. This decision was the result of the producers’ cheap iron fist and the sinking ratings of this show that had overextended its shelf life by five years.

Would Grady be watching me tonight? Somewhere silently connecting with me? My heart hurt. I was convinced he was avoiding me, but I held out hope he was somewhere getting the treatment he needed. I refused to give up hope on us until I could speak with him.

The haunting sounds of the show’s opening number played over the speakers. My time was here. One featured dance, one rumba, for Grady, for my fans, for me. My official goodbye to the ballroom. Last time, I’d just quit mid-season. This time, I’d do it right. Even if Grady wasn’t watching me live, he would be with me when I stepped onto the floor.

Pasha came behind me and squeezed my hand. “You look beautiful, Bella. You’re going to do great tonight.”

I gritted my teeth. Since we’d been back on set, he’d been overly nice to me, apologizing for how he’d behaved in Tahoe. And though he’d repeatedly asked me out, I’d told him that I was only interested in Grady. I had begged Benny to let me dance with another partner, but this was the only way he would allow me to do the spotlight. And I understood—to so many people in the ballroom world we were Pashabella. A championship couple. United through dance. They wanted to see us dance together, and this would be the last chance they had.

“And now, for the first time in four years, two-time Dancing under the Stars champion, Bella Applebaum, and her former partner, Pasha Gravilov.”

Pasha led me onto the floor, and the lights dimmed.

Last time, I’d danced had been for my mother. She’d sat in the front row of the show, her cheeks glowing from the incandescent lights. When I’d received a perfect ten, she’d beamed at me, so proud. I remember thinking she was so beautiful, her red dress clung to her curves, her long, black hair curled at the end.

I almost wished that had been my last memory of her.

The music began, “Grenade” by Bruno Mars. It was an acoustic version that had been reworked into a classic slow rumba, soothing, melodic. The perfect song for Grady.

Pasha pushed me into a back break and pulled me back into him. My head rested on his chest as my feet did swivels on the floor. My soul soared as he spun me out to fan. As my eyes grazed the audience, there in the limelight I saw Grady.

I almost stopped dancing. He looked so handsome, and completely out of his element. He was dressed in a fitted suit, his eye gleaming, and a rare smile on his face. I struggled to continue, but Pasha saved me, pulling me back into him, guiding my body into the movements, presenting me to the audience, showing me off to the only man who mattered.

This song, this dance evoked exactly how I felt about Grady. I loved him, I’d do anything for him. He was the most selfless, kind man I’d ever met. All I wanted was to be his.

Pasha gripped my thighs, throwing me into a split, acting as the perfect frame for my picture. When the music died down, the roar of the applause drowned me.

I looked back up to meet Grady’s stare. He was standing, clapping harder than anyone, his scars accented by the bright camera in his face. Ay dios mío! No! The camera director was focused on him. They probably intended to make it a clip for the show. How horrifying! I had no idea he’d be here.

Pasha quickly led me off the floor, away from Grady, and gave me a kiss on the top of my hair.

“You were amazing, Bellichka. Are you sure you don’t want to compete together with me one more time?”

“Positive. But thank you, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You need to go back to your dressing room. I think you have a surprise waiting.”

He knew? Had Grady contacted him to get on set? Maybe Pasha had set this up as a way to apologize to me?

After making my way through the maze backstage, I ran to my trailer, anxious to jump into Grady’s arms. I pushed past security and saw the door to my trailer ajar. He must’ve run in first.

“Grady?”

My trailer seemed empty. I heard running water in the shower. Maybe Grady was waiting for me to join him? I couldn’t wait to rub my hands all over his rock solid body, kiss his face, tell him how much I’d missed him.

But when I opened the bathroom door, no one was there.

And the shower was on.

What in the world?

The loud slam of my trailer door chilled me.

I stepped out of the bathroom, praying to be reunited with Grady, but instead Pasha was standing in front of the door, holding a gun.

I screamed, but he pointed the gun at my head.

“You’re mine, Bellichka. All mine. You ruined our partnership, you ruined my life. We spent years training and you tossed me aside. All I ever wanted was you. Now you’re going to pay. No way are you going to choose a monster over me.”