Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 31355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
The next day, the sun cast long shadows across the circus training area, where I stood hidden behind the bulk of a supply truck. My heart thudded in my chest as I watched Dante converse with a sharply dressed stranger. Their exchange was brief, the stranger handing over a thick envelope which Dante tucked inside his jacket casually. As they shook hands, my fingers worked quickly, capturing not just the stranger's face but also the sleek, black car he returned to. My phone camera clicked silently, securing images of his license plate.
After witnessing their meeting, my curiosity guided me into the bustling costume shop. Amid the chaos of sequins and feathers, I feigned helpfulness, sorting through heaps of fabric and costume pieces. My real intent, however, was probing deeper into the oddities I'd stumbled upon. It was during this pretense that my hand struck a false panel at the bottom of an old, ornate chest. With a glance around to confirm no prying eyes, I discovered a hidden compartment that cradled a small, velvet-lined box filled with an assortment of high-value jewelry. The pieces were exquisite, far too opulent for our modest performances. Who did they belong to? And why were they concealed here? I left quickly, and back in the confined space of my caravan, I spread out all the evidence I had gathered: photos, scribbled notes, now the images of the jewelry. The dim light from my desk lamp threw my shadow against the walls as I began piecing together a report that felt heavier with every word typed. Each piece of evidence seemed to incriminate Dante further, yet every fact I laid down only added to the complexity of my emotions. How could someone so enigmatic, so engaging, be woven so deeply into this web of deceit? Restlessness overtook me, and I found myself wandering outside under the cloak of midnight. The circus was a different world at night—quiet, almost haunting. As I walked past the darkened tents and silent caravans, the gravel crunching softly under my boots, I wrestled with the turmoil inside me. Dante’s allure was undeniable; his touch, his voice, the way he moved—all of it had drawn me in from the moment I saw him. But the deeper I dug into the circus’s secrets, the more I feared the truth I would inevitably uncover. Could I really expose the man who commanded not just the circus but increasingly, my own desires? As I circled back to my caravan, the weight of my dual obligations—to my mission, to my heart—pressed down on me. The night air was cool on my skin, but the battle within kept my blood simmering. Back inside my small sanctuary, I stared at the cluttered table, my findings laid bare under the harsh light. The photos, the documents, the stolen moments of observation—they all told a story of a man who lived in shades of gray, a man who captivated and confused, who commanded the ring and perhaps, the underworld hidden within the circus. But it was the man who slipped through the shadows to meet with strangers, the man who held secrets as closely as he did the reins of his circus, who I couldn't reconcile with the one who had gently guided a child through her first performance or laughed heartily with his crew over dinner.
As the clock ticked towards dawn, I realized that uncovering Dante’s secrets might unravel the fabric of the life I had woven here among the tents and the starlit performances. But how far was I willing to go—could I bear the cost of the truth? The circus, with its thrills and shadows, had become my world too, and Dante, with all his complexities, had become its beating heart.
Chapter Five
Dante
In the quiet sanctuary of the circus office, I spread the financial ledgers across the table with a precision that reflected years of practice. I had invited Ava to review these documents, a gesture of transparency, but also an excuse to draw her closer into the folds of my world—and perhaps, to test the waters of her intentions.
"Ava, could you help me with this section?" I asked, pointing to a column of numbers. As she leaned over to examine the figures, our hands brushed unintentionally, sending a jolt of electricity through me. I watched her reaction closely, a flush creeping up her neck, her focus momentarily disturbed. I masked my smile by turning a page, pretending to scrutinize a line I had read a hundred times before.
My body hummed to life, my cock pressing behind my zipper painfully. I felt her fucking presence and I was practically drunk on it. Finally, feeling like I couldn’t trust myself to not do something we both might regret, I suggested we step outside, feeling confined by the office walls that seemed way too fucking close with her around.