Marek, p.1
Marek, page 1
MAREK
Also by Bella Jewel
Jokers' Wrath MC
Bestie
Rumblin' Knights
Knights Rising
Knights Fury
Knights Lady
Knights Burden
Standalone
Amore - Boxed Set
Wild Child
Marek
Table of Contents
Title Page
Also By Bella Jewel
DEDICATION
~*MAREK*~
MAREK | Copyright © 2024 Bella Jewel
~*ACKNOWLEDGMENTS*~
PROLOGUE
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10 | One Month Later
11
12
13
14
15
16
17 | EPILOGUE – 6 MONTHS LATER
THE END
DEDICATION
To all my biker babes,
You know these are all for you.
Thank you xx
Warning
This book contains scenes that may upset some readers and is classified as a mild dark romance.
~*MAREK*~
All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any form without prior written permission of the publisher, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.
MAREK
Copyright © 2024 Bella Jewel
MAREK is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and events portrayed in this book either are from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, establishments, events, or location is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
~*ACKNOWLEDGMENTS*~
As always, my heartfelt thanks to every single blogger, reader and author that has supported my journey. From reading my books, to sharing them, to raving about them, to being there for me. Thank you. My career would be nothing without any of you.
A massive thanks to the team at Valentine PR for taking me on, especially to Kim and Nina for helping me with this release and this new series. I am looking forward to working with you all on this book and future books, and I’m incredibly grateful for the hard work you all do.
A massive thanks to Ben Ellis from Pilcrow Design for this gorgeous cover. You’re the easiest, most efficient person I’ve ever worked with. You make my covers absolutely gorgeous every single time. I couldn’t do it without you.
To my favorite editor Wendi from Ready, set, edit, for always coming through for me on my edits, whenever I need them. You’re amazing and I’m so thankful to you. You’re super easy to work with and so nice. I’m glad to team up with you for these things.
And of course, to my admin, MJ, for ALWAYS keeping my page running beautifully. I couldn’t do it without you, girly. I love your teasers and your passion; thank you for taking the time out of your life to help this poor girl keep everything running.
And, last but certainly not least, to my loyal readers. To each and every one of you that picks up my books and give me a chance. To the reviews you write, good or bad. To the time you take to make me a better person. You make this real for me; never stop giving such love and passion. You make our journey so amazing.
PROLOGUE
My name is Ellie.
Ellie Mae, if you will.
Before you ask, no, it’s not a cruel joke.
My parents thought the name suited me and, well, here we are.
That’s the mildest part of my story, though.
Oh, hell, it doesn’t even scratch the surface.
I’m a dancer, and a good one at that.
I have a fiancé—one my parents picked out just for me—and a blossoming career.
Everything was going well, until I caught the eye of the wrong man.
He saw something in me ... something the rest of the world was overlooking.
A talent that runs deeper than the surface.
He wants to make me a star, only his show isn’t the kind you dream of.
It’s dark, twisted, and dangerous.
A world you could never begin to imagine.
Like a thief in the night, he takes me from everything I love.
He won’t let me go, not until I do the very thing he captured me for ...
Dance.
Dance for a monster, live in a cage, be the perfect little puppet.
There is just one problem with that plan.
He has no idea who he is messing with.
But I can assure you, he’s about to find out.
1
“Come on, Ellie, you’re not pushing hard enough.”
With gritted teeth, I push up on my toes and spin, trying to do a ridiculous combination of ballet and jazz that my dance teacher is trying to throw into my performance. A performance that could change my life. It could get me into the school of my dreams where I could go on to make it big.
The problem is, he’s pushing me to dance in a way that doesn’t feel right to me.
Having studied many forms of dance, I have put my own twist on things, but that twist is never something he’s willing to allow me to use. He wants me to follow the rules, the structure, to deliver the performance most likely to get me in, but it shows nothing of who I am. Not a single ounce of my raging soul, the one that I keep hidden behind the pretty eyes and girlish smile.
I’m a dolly, and, believe me, those aren’t my words.
That’s what everyone calls me.
I’m petite, slender, and with my white blond hair and eyes that are such a light blue they almost look fake, I tend to look as though I belong on a shelf. I have the perfect frame for dance; I’m small and I’m light, I can twist and turn, throwing my body into positions a lot of other dancers can’t. I put on my first pair of ballet shoes when I was two, and I have never looked back.
My parents are rich, well known, and live an upper-class life. They were never going to let me be anything less than extraordinary. They pushed me, even when I didn’t want to be pushed. They drove me to rebel when I turned fourteen, and I very nearly gave it all up, but I pushed on, mostly because somewhere deep within me, dancing is part of who I am.
It's the disappointment I will bring if I don’t go to the elite school they want that will crush my spirit.
I know, somewhere within the depths of my soul, that if I wasn’t a dancer, they wouldn’t be proud of me at all.
I’m not like my brother, a natural born talent, a football superstar. He can do no wrong in their eyes.
He moved away years ago to college and all they do is tell me how incredible he is. I don’t really speak to him, because even he thinks he’s better than me.
Nobody in this family ever just lets me be me.
It’s exhausting.
“Ellie!”
Spinning toward my coach, Roger, I scowl as I lose my balance. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I flop down to the ground, my small legs stretching out in front of me, sweat trickling down my brow. Roger exhales, walking over and staring down at me with that fatherly concern in his eyes. He’s good to me, and if it wasn’t for him, I probably wouldn’t be where I am today, but he’s so old school, and I am having a hard time breaking him.
“Why can’t you just let me add some of my own things in, Rog?” I ask, tilting my head back to look up at him.
“Because those schools don’t like rebellion, Ellie, they like people who are willing to do exactly what they teach and do it well. You have that skill, you’re better than any other dancer I’ve ever taught, but you’re stubborn. You need to let go of your childish fantasies of getting on the stage and blowing everyone away with your unique moves. That isn’t how this works.”
Well, talk about a lecture.
“I don’t understand how adding passion and spirit into my routine is rebellion,” I mutter.
“It’s rebellion because it goes against everything they’ve ever learned. Dance is an art, it isn’t a joke.”
As if I don’t know that.
Dropping my head into my hands, I let out a frustrated sigh. “I am trying, I really am, but it just feels so wrong to me.”
“If you let yourself go, it won’t. You’re holding back.”
He’s right, I am.
Not entirely because of the fact that I can’t put my own twist on things, but because my fiancé is sending me over the edge. It’s not that he’s doing anything wrong, exactly, it’s that I feel like I’m in a room, spinning in circles, and nobody can catch me. Like I’m hollow, yet there is so much chaos, I can’t seem to find a safe place to sit. I know it isn’t right to feel that way, but it can’t be helped.
Carter is a good man—the wealthy, blue collar type—but he has no fire. Petty, I know, but his world is so black and white: he goes to work, he makes money, he comes home and provides for his future wife. He wants kids, a big home, and a family vacation once a year. That’s admirable, it really is, but outside of that, he is lacking the very thing that I crave—something that sets my heart on fire. A passion, a
Indeed, Carter is a good man, but I wonder if he’s my man.
My parents would never hear me say anything less. They think he hung the moon. It helps that he’s a multi-millionaire. His family is rich, he’s rich, and he boosts my parents’ already soaring stature in the world. He is good for the image. He’s good for everything we could have ever imagined for my future, but there is something missing. I know it, yet I find it hard to come up with a valid reason to push him from my life.
He's good to me.
He’s secure.
He’s kind.
On paper, he’s everything that a future husband should be.
So why do I find myself so damned empty?
“Ellie!”
Snapping out of my thoughts, I focus back on Roger. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just not feeling that good today. Can we pick up tomorrow?”
He studies me, his mouth pushed into a tight line as his eyes rake over my face. “Fine, but we are doing the show in a few nights, are you going to be ready for that at least?”
The local show that we put on every year. People love it, and we do a big performance for the town. Amongst this practice, I have been doing routines for that. I’m exhausted, but I know that if I stop, my mind will get the better of me. So, I don’t entirely mind having too much to focus on. It’s better than the alternative.
“I’m ready,” I tell him, pushing to my feet.
“You know I’m here if you ever need to talk.”
I step forward, wrapping my arms around Roger and hugging him tight. He is good to me, and I don’t know where I would be without him.
“Thank you.”
With that, I leave the studio, praying that Carter isn’t home when I arrive.
I just need one minute, just one, to breathe.
“MY GOD, YOU’RE SPECTACULAR!”
My dance friend, Sasha, rushes over when I walk off stage after an incredible performance and throws her arms around me. I’m coated in sweat, but it doesn’t seem to bother her at all. She squeezes me tight before stepping back, smiling huge. She is in the same classes as I am, so we’ve known each other for a long time.
I wouldn’t say we’re best friends, but we’re sure as hell close.
“It was pretty amazing,” I say, unable to stop the smile stretching across my face.
“Amazing, girl, I’ve never seen anyone that can dance quite like you. You’re a star.”
Coming from her. She’s pretty incredible herself.
“She’s right, you are.”
Turning, I see Carter approaching me with a huge smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He’s wearing a suit, crisp and grey, and his dark brown hair is neatly brushed atop his head. His hazel eyes flicker with pride as he strides toward me. The moment he reaches me, he leans down and captures me with one arm, pulling me close for a kiss. It’s soft and warm, like it always is.
Pulling back, I take the flowers and offer him a genuine smile. “Thanks, babe.”
“I’ll never tire of seeing you dance.”
“Me either.” Sasha nods in agreement. “Now, I hope you don’t mind me taking your fiancée out for a drink.”
Carter grins. “Have at it. I have to work early the morning anyway.”
We say our goodbyes, and Sasha waits for me to get changed. It has been too long since I have been out for a drink. I don’t tend to drink all that much since I am on such a strict eating and exercise plan. It takes a lot to keep my body strong for all the dancing I do, and alcohol certainly doesn’t agree with my physique.
Tonight, though, I am going to let my hair down.
I need it.
Sasha and I find a bar close by and immediately order a round of drinks before positioning ourselves at the bar where we laugh and talk, as if the world around us has stopped and it’s only the two of us. Sasha, who is newly single, catches the eye of more than one man. She is letting off an energy that tells everyone around her that she is ready and willing, and it helps that she’s absolutely gorgeous, too.
Long, raven-black hair, sky blue eyes, and a body with curves in all the right places, Sasha never goes without plenty of attention. All eyes are on her when she walks into a room, and, tonight, she is lapping it up. I can’t say I blame her, the girl got out of a relationship that wasn’t bringing out the best in her, and now she is free. I’m envious because the thought of being so free makes my heart ache a little.
Watching with a glass of vodka and soda in my hand as Sasha makes her way to the dance floor with another man, I can’t help but smile. She’s happy, and I love seeing her content.
“Had your fill of dancing for the night?”
The smooth, thick, Russian accent comes from behind me, and I startle, turning quickly toward it. Behind me stands a man so spectacular, for a moment I just stare at him, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, as if I’m star struck. The problem is, he’s not a star, he’s just so breathtaking that he might as well be.
If I could picture a vampire in real life, this man would be it.
I don’t know if it’s his thick, dark hair that’s long and loose around his shoulders, or the striking blue eyes that stand out against his creamy skin. Maybe it’s the dangerous scar that runs down his face, or the shadow of hair on his jaw that isn’t quite a beard. Tattoos peek out from his black shirt, unbuttoned at the top. He’s scarily beautiful, in a way that a man simply should not be.
Squirming, slightly uncomfortable but mostly weak at the knees, I mumble, “Do I know you?”
He stares at me so intensely, I’m forced to look down at my glass for a moment to gather myself. “Do you want to?”
What kind of answer is that?
“Answering a question with a question, you’re a tricky one,” I say, gathering myself finally.
His mouth tips up into a half smile and my heart does a stupid jump. I don’t know what it is about him, but he’s completely capable of taking my breath away. I’m usually sassy, strong willed and not easily shaken but this man is shaking me all over. Damn him. He’s spectacular.
“Where did you learn to dance like that?” he murmurs, nodding to the bartender who quickly gets him a drink.
“I’ve been dancing since I was a child. Now, I ask again, do I know you, or do you make it a habit of going to watch random girls dancing at shows?”
He lifts the glass, those perfect fingers curling around the base as he brings it to his lips. I’m certain he doesn’t miss my eyes following his every move, watching the way his throat tightens and then releases as he swallows the liquid down. He’s scarily calm and collected, the kind of man I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting before. It’s as if nothing in the world could shake him.
“I enjoy shows,” he answers, his voice thick. “I can’t say I’ve seen someone with your kind of talent.”
That’s flattering, I won’t deny it.
“Thanks.”
“What’s your name?”
I take another sip of my drink and glance at Sasha who is dancing with an incredibly good looking man, their bodies intertwined. She’s having the time of her life.
“Ellie.”
The mystery man tips his head to the side and repeats my name, the word rolling off his tongue in a way that has my groin clenching. Immediate guilt swarms me, because I’ve never had this kind of reaction over a man before, not even my own fiancé.
“Are you going to tell me yours?” I ask, finishing my drink because lord knows I need the distraction.
I can’t take my eyes off those lips.
Don’t get me started on his eyes.
“Marek,” he answers, his accent strong as he lets his name escape his perfect damn mouth.
That’s a very unique name.
I like it.
“Another drink.”
Marek simply waves his hand, and the bartender drops what he’s doing and gets him another drink. Then, he gets me one, too.
“I can get my own drinks,” I say defiantly, as I flash my ring in his direction.
His eyes drop to it, but he doesn’t seem at all bothered by the very loud and obvious sign that I’m taken sitting on my finger.
“I would have gotten you a nicer one.”
His statement shocks me so much I can’t answer him. Instead, I simply gape, dumbfounded by this man who has swooped in and effectively stunned me.
