The Ringmaster’s Secret (The Misfit Cabaret #1) Read Online Aria Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Misfit Cabaret Series by Aria Cole
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Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 31355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
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"It’s alright, Ava. Always on the move, aren't we?" I said, my voice low, trying to ease her embarrassment as I helped gather her papers.

"Yes, always," she replied, her eyes meeting mine for a fleeting second before she hurried off. The brief interaction, charged with heat, lingered in the air and in my mind.

I thought of her as I moved on to the dressing rooms where a young acrobat was practicing his routine. His movements were hesitant, the fear of falling etched into every line of his body. "Relax, Tomas," I coached, "trust your training and the rig. You’ve got this."

Ava paused by the doorway, watching. I was aware of her presence, could feel her gaze analyzing my every move. It was disconcerting yet exhilarating to perform not just for the crowd, but for her—especially her.

"Thank you, Dante," Tomas said, a newfound confidence in his voice as he mastered the trick. I nodded, giving him a reassuring pat on the back before exiting the room, catching Ava’s eye as I passed. Her eyes flicked away quickly but the tight puckering of her nipples didn’t go unnoticed by me. She must have felt it too because she crossed her arms across her chest, eyes anywhere but on me. I kept walking, my cock twitching painfully as I left her behind me.

A few minutes later, I found myself in the training area demonstrating a new rigging setup to the rigging crew. "And remember, safety is as crucial as the performance itself," I instructed, securing a harness with deft, sure movements.

Ava sat on a crate, pretending to be engrossed in her clipboard. Yet, I could tell her attention was divided between her pretense of work and the lesson I was giving. She observed intently as I showed the crew the knots and checks, her fascination barely veiled.

When the demonstration ended, I crossed the distance to her. "Taking a break or learning the ropes?" I grinned.

"A bit of both," she responded, her voice steady but her cheeks tinged with color from either the sun or me. I hoped to hell it was me.

The day’s interactions with Ava were revealing, each moment peeling back a layer of the professional facade I wore everyday. As I walked back to my quarters under the lengthening shadows, she haunted my thoughts. There was something about her, something below the surface that she hid from everyone else. I’d just left her and already I couldn’t wait to see her again. I had the sense that she was the thing I’d been missing all these years. My entire life, really. The way her warm eyes looked up at me, so big and round, made my heart pound in my chest. I couldn’t get her off my mind, and that’s a feeling I’d never felt before. If I was being honest with myself, that feeling also kind of scared me.

As dusk finally settled over the circus, painting the sky in hues of deep purple and gold, the main tent buzzed with the electric energy of anticipation. Performers, clad in vibrant costumes that shimmered under the overhead lights, stretched and practiced their final moves. I stood at the center, feeling the weight of their expectations and the thrill of another night's performance heavy on my shoulders. I lived for this part of the job. When adrenaline crowded out everything else. The world, the chaos, the gaming sense of loneliness all quieted and I was just doing my job under the Big Top.

Gathering the group around, I raised my voice, ensuring every person from the flyers to the fire-eaters could hear me. "Tonight, like every night, we give them a show that they’ll carry with them for days, for weeks. You are not just performers; you are magicians of the heart and soul." My gaze swept across the faces in the crowd, seeing the fire ignite in their eyes, the nervous energy morph into determined excitement. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Ava, half-hidden in the wings, her notebook forgotten at her side as she watched. Her expression, open and unguarded, reflected the passion of the words I spoke. She looked excited. Really fucking excited. I grinned, shooting her a wink before I thanked everyone for giving their all tonight and told them all to break a few hearts. It’s the thing we’d been saying before every show since I took over this gig. Because that’s what we did here—captivated audiences. Got under their skin and made them believe in the unbelievable again. Made them believe in things like love and joy and hope. For two hours every night, we gave them that.

As the show took off, with the roar of the crowd filling the tent, I felt that familiar rush, the symbiotic energy that flowed between us and the audience. Once the final act concluded to thunderous applause, I made my way to the ticket booth, ensuring everything was wrapping up smoothly. The night's work wasn't done until every last detail was checked. Ava lingered a few feet away, pretending to be absorbed in her notes, but her eyes didn’t miss a thing. I approached the ticket sellers, chatting briefly to confirm the night’s earnings and ensure there were no discrepancies. "Great work tonight," I told them, clapping a young ticket handler on the back with a friendly smile. As I turned, I caught Ava’s gaze, her admiration barely veiled, adding a layer of warmth to the cool evening air. As the last of the spectators filtered out, leaving behind the scent of popcorn and the echo of laughter, I found myself walking alongside Ava through the now-empty tent. The canvas cathedral that had roared with life mere minutes ago was silent, and our footsteps on the sawdust floor seemed loud, intimate.



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