Tangled Hearts (The Misfit Cabaret #2) Read Online Aria Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors: Series: The Misfit Cabaret Series by Aria Cole
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Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
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She laughs softly, the sound like music to my ears. “Trouble, huh? And now?”

“Now?” I pull her closer, my lips brushing against her ear. “Now I know you’re the best kind of trouble.”

She shivers at my words, her body responding to my touch. “You’re not so bad yourself, Jasper. In fact, you’re pretty amazing.”

We fall into a comfortable silence, the night wrapping around us like a blanket. The sounds of the circus are distant now, a reminder of the world outside our little bubble of love.

I’ve faced a lot of challenges in my life, but nothing compares to the intensity of my feelings for Lila. She’s become my anchor, my reason for fighting, and as we lie here under the stars, I know I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe. I think for the first time she was right afterall, I can’t regret where I came from because it led me right here, to her.

“Jasper,” she says softly, her hand resting on my chest. “Promise me something.”

“Always,” I reply, my heart ready to give her whatever she asks.

“Promise me we’ll face everything together. No more secrets, no more holding back.”

I take her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “I promise, Lila. You and me. Always.”

She smiles, her eyes shining with trust and love. “Always.”

As we drift off to sleep under the stars, I hold Lila close, my heart filled with a sense of peace and purpose. The challenges ahead don’t seem so daunting with her by my side. Together, we’re unstoppable.

Chapter Nine

Lila

The big top is alive with energy, the excited buzz of the audience filling the air. Colorful lights dance across the ring, casting vibrant patterns on the canvas walls. Backstage, performers ready themselves, their faces tense with anticipation. It’s the biggest night of the season, and the stakes have never been higher.

I stand high on the trapeze platform, my heart pounding in my chest. The costume I wear shimmers under the spotlight, a dazzling array of sequins and silk that catches the light with every movement and hugs my every curve. I force myself to take a deep breath, to focus on the routine I’ve practiced a thousand times.

Down below, I see Jasper moving through the crowd. His eyes scan the tent, sharp and vigilant. He’s in his element, communicating discreetly with the other security personnel, setting up a covert perimeter around the tent. The soft crackle of his radio is barely audible over the upbeat circus music and the buzzing chatter of the audience.

I catch Jasper’s eye for a moment, and he gives me a small nod, his expression reassuring. It’s a brief connection, but it steadies me. I know he’s got my back. With a final deep breath, I step to the edge of the platform, ready to begin my performance.

The audience gasps in awe as I swing out, the trapeze moving gracefully through the air. The spotlight follows me, casting me in a golden glow. Each movement is fluid, practiced, perfect. I hear the collective oohs and aahs of the crowd, the swish of the trapeze cutting through the air.

But my focus isn’t entirely on the routine. I keep an eye on the rigging, scanning for any sign of trouble. I trust Jasper, but I can’t shake the feeling that something is about to go wrong.

From my high vantage point, I spot a shadow moving near the rigging. My heart skips a beat as I recognize the figure—it’s Malcolm the stagehand that was helping Alexander. The one that claimed to be under his mind control. He’s tampering with the equipment, his movements quick and precise. I see Jasper tense up, his eyes locking onto him. He signals to his team and starts moving stealthily towards the asshole.

I continue my routine, my body moving on autopilot as my mind races. Jasper is closing in on him, but Malcolm is cunning and dangerous. Jasper might not be quick enough. I can feel the sweat on my palms, the strain in my muscles as I push through the performance.

The faint rustling of the tent fabric reaches my ears, a sound that sends a shiver down my spine. Jasper moves with purpose, his steps silent but determined. He’s getting closer, but so is his target.

I swing back to the platform for a brief moment of respite, my eyes darting to Jasper as he corners him near the rigging, the two men’s faces illuminated by a single spotlight.

Jasper lunges at Malcolm, and they grapple, the remote device Malcolm holds slipping from his grasp and clatters to the ground. I watch in horror as the device slides towards the edge of the platform.

High above, I resume my routine, my heart in my throat. The rigging jerks violently, a clear sign of interference. I lose my grip, dangling precariously, my life quite literally hanging in the balance. Jasper glances up, his face a mask of fear and determination.


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