It's Mara's last night at Penthouse and she's gracing the center stage platform with movements that cause her gauzy dress to sift in ways that make her look like an angel moving through the clouds. I could watch her for hours, but unfortunately, I'm stuck in the VIP section entertaining clients and can only steal glances at my beautiful tiny dancer. 

However, I really shouldn't pout. She moves into my apartment tomorrow, which means I'll get to be around her more often, and truly be with her. I'm already looking forward to cooking together and doing mundane things like folding laundry. Sometimes I find myself standing in the doorway of the spare room, imagining what I can transform it into. What we can transform it into.

Right now it serves as a guest bedroom, but maybe it could be a mini ballet studio instead or... a nursery. My heart still drums at the thought of Mara having a pregnant belly with the life I helped put in there. Maybe I'm crazy to still have that dream, but lately, it remains a whisper in the back of my mind. 

The club is more crowded than usual, and when you come to Penthouse every week, people's faces become familiar. However, there are so many new ones in the sea of bodies. Even the VIP section has people I don't recognize. Perhaps it's the Lord of the Rings theme. It appears to be a hit with guests, and some are even dressed in cosplay. Yet, despite the club being at maximum capacity, I can feel it any time Mara looks my way. It's a vibration in the atmosphere, a tug at my heartstrings, and an urge to glance at her as if our souls are in sync. Every time I do, her gorgeous face lights up with an expression of love, and I want to leap across the crowd, engulf her in my arms, and show everyone that she is mine. 

That itch to look her way again consumes me, so I steal a glance and Mara blows me a kiss. I wink at her, then go back to chatting with my clients.

I still haven't told her how I feel, but I will.

This time tomorrow, she and I will be in Mallorca. I keep teasing her about all the naughty things I plan to do while we're there, but honestly, I just want to have a lot of ordinary, memorable adventures. Like renting a scooter to ride around the island with the wind in our hair, and stopping at delicious restaurants with views overlooking the ocean. I want to watch the sunset with Mara and walk on the beach holding hands. 

It's the simple things.

Time passes, and the night seems long as I wait for things to finish up with my clients. They always like to linger in the glitz and glam. I suppose it makes them feel young. It also doesn't hurt that when you sit in the VIP section, it's a magnet for attractive people who want to get to know you... or rather, get to know the contents of your wallet. My clients thrive off it. Penthouse is a different world and for a few hours, they get to be kings and queens.

But I don't need to be a king.

I want one woman, and one woman only. 

I look Mara's way again, and she signals that she's done with her shift before stepping down from her platform. So, I politely wrap things up with my clients since she and I are going home together. Home. Our home. A smile tugs at my lips with that thought.

About thirty minutes pass between saying goodbye to my clients and making my way through the crowd to exit the club. My friend Noelle has been keeping a close watch on Mara all week, to make sure she's safe, but I gave her the night off since I'm here. I text Mara and tell her to let me know when she exits the back, so I can meet her there. A few seconds later, my phone chirps.

Mara: my resignation from Penthouse is in! I'm officially unemployed! Lol.

Me: And now the real fun begins. Heading over to meet you now.

Mara: 😘

There's a chill in the air as fog clings to the sky, and mist sprinkles the windshields of cars along the street. People who are outside smoking or leaving the club, rub their arms to keep warm, yet I don't feel a single shiver of old cold while strolling through the alleyway. The anticipation of kissing Mara when I see her is enough to keep me warm as I toy with a set of spare keys to the apartment that I had made for Mara. A trinket is attached to the chain, and it says Tiny Dancer, with a small bobble of a ballerina that dangles from it. I can't wait to see her eyes light up when I give it to her.

In fact, I can't wait to take her home, draw her bath, and caress the suds across her skin while she relaxes her tired muscles from dancing all night. She'll probably want me to join her, but I honestly just want to spoil her. I want her to see that this is what our life can be like. Simple, yet full of meaningful moments that amplify our love.

Because I do love her, and I'm pretty sure she loves me, too. 

Each step I take toward her is another step into our future together, and maybe my age is making me more sentimental, but I can't help but smile, thinking about us growing older together. Well, I'll grow old, but Mara will still look youthful and beautiful. 

"You sappy, hopeless romantic, old fuck," I chuckle, shaking my head.

But then a blood-curdling scream freezes my footsteps, and goosebumps spread across my skin like a forest fire as a shiver rakes up my spine.

I hear it again, and this time, I know it's Mara! 

My legs bolt into action before my mind registers what to do. The darkness distorts the path, but I run and run, my eyes scanning, searching for Mara. In the distance, there's a blob of movement, a scuffle camouflaged by shadows, but I can hear Mara struggling with her assailant.

"Get away from her!"

 I practically fly, and dig my fingers into whatever body part I can grab and yank the attacker away. He spins around, his knife striking like a snake trying to sink its venomous fangs into me. I jump back, but he keeps coming, and I keep dodging the blade. Mara sinks to the ground, and even in the darkness, I can see she's clutching herself.

He stabbed her.

The fucker stabbed her!

"Arghhhh!" I charge forward and tackle him.

We roll across the cold pavement, into bags of trash with the crinkle and crunch of bottles breaking underneath us. One moment, he's on top, then I'm on top, and we fight for dominance, all while the sharp edge of his knife taunts me. My punches are landing, but so are his, and they come with a surprising sting...

We continue grappling, but as strong as I am, he's not letting up and manages to climb on top of me again. When he strikes with the knife, I use all my strength to block it, and the blade pierces my forearm. It might as well be on fire, but he doesn't allow me any time to process the pain before head-butting me. There's a crunch when his skull connects with my nose, and I try to blink away the sudden sprinkle of stars blurring my vision. There's blood on his face when he lifts his head, and he smiles wickedly before slamming his forehead into mine again. My eyes roll back and nothing makes sense as the world threatens to fade.

He's laughing. 

Why is he laughing? 

The side door to the club screeches open, and light floods the back alley.

"Fuck," he growls, then pulls the knife out of my forearm before scrambling to his feet.

"Oh, my God! Help!" a woman yells.

The attacker kicks me in the ribs, then disappears into the darkness, and I want to get up and chase him down, but for some reason, I can't sit upright.

"Mara," I cough, and taste something coppery in my mouth.

"Enzo!" she chokes out and crawls to me. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

"We should get you to a hospital," I attempt to sit upright but flop back down and cough again.

"Don't move," Mara says, her lips quivering. "I've got you."

"I'm calling 911!" her coworker says, standing over us, her eyes wide.

"Mara..." I touch her face, but my arm feels so heavy, and when it flops back down, there's a bloody handprint on her cheek. "Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine," she cries, cradling my head in her lap. "It's you I'm worried about."

"You're shivering."

"Shh..." She kisses me. "Save your energy. Help is coming."

"Mara..." I blink rapidly, struggling to keep my eyes open. "I feel... cold."

"I know, but hang on. Help is coming." Tears roll down her cheeks, her body trembling. "Just hang on. Don't leave me." 

"I would... never..." My eyes close, but she pats my face.

"Enzo! Stay with me!"

I manage to open them, and despite Mara's makeup being smudged and streaking down her face, she's so beautiful. My tiny dancer. 

I smile.

"I love you, Mara."

She laughs softly, "You do?" 

"I should have told you sooner. I'm suck an ass."

"No, you're not!"

"I am."

"It doesn't matter." She shakes her head. "You can tell me over and over again for the rest of our lives because help is coming!" She kisses me repeatedly between words, her lips wet and salty with tears. "Just please hang on. Please."

I gather enough strength to caress her cheek, my eyelids impossibly heavy. "I love you, Mara."

"I love you, Enzo Esposito," she cries. "Please, don't leave me."

Her beautiful face begins to fade, and it feels like I'm in a dark tunnel, with her at the very end of it, and she's becoming smaller and smaller. 

I'm trying to hold on for her, but my head is heavy, and my hand drops from her cheek.

Everything goes dark.