"What the hell was that?"

I stomp into the hallway as soon as the conference finishes, Dad following swiftly behind me. The journalists are wandering out of the room, stopping to stare at my outburst as Dad hushes me and hauls me by the elbow into the next room.

"Get off me!" I snap my elbow away and fold my arms tightly across my chest. He's unbuttoning his collar and has the good sense to look a little sheepish. This is another convention room—the same musty smell and metal chairs stacked against the wall. The carpet under my boots is so old it crunches under my feet.

"Just listen to me." Dad stands in front of the door, blocking my exit. I huff and storm across the room away from him. "OK, so I shouldn't have just sprung that on you in there, but it makes sense, don't you see? It can solve both our problems."

He actually sounds excited, revelling in his own genius like this is actually a good idea and not a moment of middle-age madness. Swearing under my breath, I focus on the smoke-stained wallpaper, preferring yellowing florals to Dad's smug expression.

My head is throbbing. The images of Xander's and Daniel's surprised expressions burn behind my eyelids. That two boys I hadn't even met a few hours ago could cause such a reaction in me is confusing me more than anything. Exhaling, I turn back to Dad. Grateful to have almost an entire room between us.

"No. I don't see. I have three months to find the money for the procedure, and that's it. That's all I can think about right now... All I want to think about. I'm a ballet dancer, that's what I know. I don't know anything about boxing. Nothing."

He shakes his head. Taking a step forward, but hesitating before taking another when he sees my body tense.

"You don't need to. I know boxing. I need Daniel to learn how to move, how to control his body. Ballet can teach him that. It's unusual, I give you that. Maybe it sounds crazy, but he wouldn't be the first. This will give the edge he needs to win, I know it."

"Dad..."

"You need ten grand, right? Well, if Daniel wins, it's payday for me too. Help me train him and the money's yours."

My mouth drops, and I search Dad's face. It's indisputably sincere, but it's still a stranger's face. A face I know more from photos than I do from real life. My heart pounds in my chest. Could this really be the solution?

"Are you serious?"

He raises his hands and steps closer cautiously like he's approaching an escaped animal from the zoo. I roll my eyes.

"Look, I've gone about it the wrong way. I get that. But this is a job. I'm offering you a job, Cassie."

"Except you're not. A job is paid. Guaranteed pay. You're offering me the chance to be paid. That's not the same thing."

"You're a smart girl. So you tell me, how do you expect to make that kind of money by September? If your rich friends were going to help you, they'd have done it already."

It's a low blow, but it's true. One thing losing Mum taught me was how truly alone I am. My few friends have scattered since Mum's death tore me apart. And now I've even lost Kyle.

Groaning, I walk away, hands tugging on my hair as I pace across the stretch of carpet. I'm hungry, tired and I have nothing left to deal with this.

"I have to fix my leg. I have to get back into the company. If this doesn't work. If Daniel doesn't win..."

Dad smiles, nodding his head rapidly, sensing a win. "He will. Together, you and me can train him. He wins and the money's yours. I know it's a risk. I know what ballet means to you."

"You have no idea what ballet means to me..." Or what it meant to Mum, I think, the thought a stinging burn in my chest.

"But I do."

Daniel is standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. All the sparkling charm and easy lightness have faded from his form. His broad shoulders hang weakly. He looks a little tired. He walks closer, ignoring Dad completely, his whole focus on me.

"I know what it's like to dedicate your entire life to a dream. I've missed parties, nights out, exams, relationships, you name it, and I've missed it. Hours every day at the gym, watching my diet, broken bones, all for this. All to be a champion. You know what I'm talking about."

I say nothing, but the tension in his mouth softens and I know I've given myself away. He moves closer, running his hand through his hair when he stops before me. His deep blue eyes catching the rays of light from the window. Gold dust hangs in the air between us. I'm suddenly too aware of my body, my hands fisting at my sides.

"I've won every fight they put my way since I went pro. And some..." He points to the door, his face contorting angrily. "...Nepo baby wanders in and thinks he can have everything I've worked for. He only picked up the gloves a couple of years ago. If his name wasn't Kane, then he wouldn't have any chance of getting a fight with someone like me so quickly."

"But he still beat you," I whisper, ignoring my guilt when Daniel flinches. He swallows, his eyes drawn to the brownish-beige carpet. He swallows hard before looking up at me, his face humble.

"I got cocky. I thought I could put him down in the first round. But he's fast, so damn fast, and he wore me down. He knew exactly what my weaknesses were. He played me and he won. Your dad is the best trainer I've ever had, and if he thinks ballet can help me..." He hesitates, then exhales. "I'll do it. I'll do anything to win. Just like you."

Dad moves to Daniel's side, nudging him fondly with his shoulder. Something about how easy the touch is, how familiar, hurts.

"Like I said, if he wins. So do you. What do you say, Cassie? You ready to join team Knight?"

Dad asks me the question, but it's Daniel I'm staring at. A set of straight white teeth and a smile bright enough to light up the room soften my shadows of doubt.

"This is crazy. I have no idea how to do this."

"But you're saying yes, right?" Daniel grins, and it's infectious. He has me shaking my head as he punches the air. I glance at Dad, who looks less convinced by the certainty of my answer. He's right, though. I've been trying to figure out for weeks how I can get the money together. And I've come up empty every time. This is a risk. A big one, but if it works...

Dancing is in my blood, buried deep in my bones. I want to be back at the company. Back in the studio. My toes bloody and raw, limbs aching and sweat soaking through my clothes. The music running through me, tripping across my skin like electricity. To be on the stage, the spotlight burning out every other thing in the world until it's just my body and the music.

Ballet isn't just a passion. Or a career. It's my home.

But I've never taught it before. And Daniel has no experience, and a body built for violence, not grace. A boy who also keeps looking at me in a way that has heat blooming in my belly. And the worst thing? He knows it.

"Yes," I mutter finally. "It's a reluctant, I'm really pissed at how Dad decided to announce it to the entire room before asking me, I still have serious doubts, yes."

Daniel rushes forward, puts a large hand behind my head, and kisses my forehead. The surprise touch has my cheeks heating, but he's too busy whooping as he rushes out the room to notice the effect it's had on me. And I'm grateful. He opens the door, the burst of noise from journalists still talking outside filling the silence of the room.

"I'm glad... I'm glad you're doing this, Cassie. I'm really happy..." Dad says, his hands going to my shoulders as he smiles down at me and my body stiffens.

"I'm not doing this for you. And I'm not doing it for him. I'm doing it for me."

He nods, but his smile drops. He steps back, stumbling towards the door.

"We better go. We better get you moved in..."

"What did they mean? About your history with Xander Kane?"

"What? Why do you ask?"

"My car broke down a few streets away. It was Xander who pulled over and got it started again."

"He what?" he yells.

I roll my eyes. Apparently, it would have been better if my ass was still stranded on the side of the road than letting Xander help me. I ignore his outburst. "What were they talking about?"

He stops, swallowing hard as his face flickers between anger and frustration. The kind of anger that isn't fresh but well worn. The kind kept hold of long after it's lost its use. "Your mum really didn't tell you anything about me, did she? About us?"

"Don't do that. Don't blame Mum for you not being there."

Something twitches in his cheek, but he says nothing. Just gazes down at the ground, scuffing his shoe on the rough carpet.

"I saw the way he looked at you. Xander. Don't let the pretty face fool you, Cassie. He's his father's son. He won't stop till he gets what he wants. And he wants a belt, not a girlfriend."

The ugly words are like a slap to the face. I bite my lip, holding back the hurt. If he wanted me to feel small, he's succeeded. This shouldn't surprise me. A good man doesn't leave his family. And Frank Rose isn't a good man.

"Except it was you that agreed to the fight..."

He swallows hard, tugging on his collar again.

"It was a strategic decision. Daniel needed another win. Kane was inexperienced, but his name gave the fight a boost." He shrugs, but it doesn't look casual. The words sound good. They flow nicely, but there's no force behind them. He's lying. And he's watching me carefully to see how they land.

"I'm going to get the car and then I want to go."

Ignoring his gaze, I storm out of the room. The hallway is mostly empty now. Daniel waves, grinning wildly as he chats to a couple of journalists who all laugh obnoxiously loud at some joke he's just made. The noise scrapes inside my ear.

I slam my body into the double doors and rush outside. Breathing in the thick, sour air of the city. The roads ahead of the hotel are just a line of black cabs, all beeping at each other in the usual London rhythm.

An engine roar catches my attention.

Xander pulls in at the bottom of the stone steps. His helmet on but the visor up, his green eyes glimmering from inside the dark. Slowly, I step down. His eyes never leave me. And my eyes never leave him either.

Then he revs the engine and I lose him quickly in the London traffic.