I pace the room, running my hands over the racks again and again, hesitating over each gown. Satin, silk, lace—everything feels heavy, like it carries the weight of the life I’m about to step into.
Finally, almost by accident, I pick one and lay it carefully on the bed. It’s soft and pale, the kind of dress that seems to catch the light even in the dark. I let myself collapse next to it, forcing myself to close my eyes, even just for a few minutes. If I don’t rest, I’ll have dark circles under my eyes come wedding time, and that’s the last thing I need.
The silence of the estate presses in around me. The dresses, the ring, the thought of him—it all hums in my head like a warning. And yet, exhaustion overtakes fear, and I let sleep try to claim me.
I don’t know how long I sleep, but when I wake, sunlight filters through the shut window, bright and harsh. I sit up, rubbing my eyes, and freeze. On the table beside me are bathing supplies and a set of pajamas that weren’t there before. Someone’s been in the room while I slept. My skin crawls.
Was it Niko?
I grab the supplies and hurry into the bathroom. The shower is quick, the water scalding my skin awake, and I slip into the pajamas, smooth and unfamiliar against me. As I walk back to the bed, a small, desperate part of me whispers the impossible thought:
Please, let him call the whole thing off. Let me go.
But I know it’s a silly dream. The dresses on the rack—and the one I finally laid on the bed—are a stark reminder of what’s coming. My prison silk. My chains disguised as lace.
The sudden click of the lock makes me jolt upright, heart racing. Niko. God, how will I face him like this? The pajamas cling to me in a way I hate. The long sleeves hide my scars, but the fabric pulls too close, outlining every curve I’d rather disappear. I fold my arms across my chest, bracing.
The door swings open.
I’m stunned into silence. It isn’t Niko.
It’s Violet. And Sasha.
They stop in the doorway, their eyes sweeping over me, wide with confusion and something else—pity, maybe. I can’t breathe for a second, my throat tightening as their gazes dart to the racks of dresses, to the bed, to the ring glittering on my hand.
“Noelle!”
They both rush toward me, arms wrapping around me at once, and for the first time since I was kidnapped from the clinic, I feel something warm, something safe. My eyes sting. I didn’t know how badly I needed this until now.
They start talking at the same time—What happened? How did you end up here? Are you okay?—their voices tripping over each other. I sink onto the edge of the bed, my hands trembling as I tell them everything. About Anton’s betrayal, about Niko finding me, about the impossible choice I was given. About how I agreed.
When I’m done, silence sits heavy in the room, and I can barely lift my head. “Did I do the right thing?” My voice breaks, so small I hardly recognize it as mine. My fingers twist together, the ring flashing like a cruel reminder. “Tell me I didn’t just ruin my life.”
Violet takes my hand, her eyes steady, voice calm. “Noelle…in this world, you didn’t really have much of a choice. You did what you had to do. And that’s the right thing.”
She gives me a small smile. “Now, I’m not saying he’s right to do this to you, but it’s better than death. And I’m still talking to Kaz, trying to see if he can get Niko to change his mind. He keeps saying it’s out of his hands, but I’ll keep on. Okay?”
“Okay. Thanks, Vi.”
Her words don’t take the weight away, but they shift it. Just enough that I can breathe again.
Sasha lets out a long breath and shakes her head. “I’m shocked, honestly. I could never have expected this—you marrying a Bratva boss.” Her lips twist as she looks at me. “I was about to leave for work when these tattooed men broke into the house and dragged me out without a word. It wasn’t until I got here that they explained.”
I manage a laugh, dry and shaky. “I’m so sorry.”
I glance between them and say, “This is my friend, Violet. Violet, Sasha—my friend and roommate.”
They smile at each other and exchange a nod. “We met downstairs,” Sasha says. “I was so confused, and she was kind enough to explain that these kinds of things are…normal here.”
The three of us laugh, and for a second, it feels like the world isn’t closing in. Only these two could make me laugh in a situation like this.
“I work at an underground Bratva clinic,” I admit, the words slipping out easier than I expect. “Not at a factory. I guess I can share the truth now. I didn’t tell you earlier because I had to protect you.”
Sasha groans, dragging a hand down her face. “Can I go back to not knowing? This is…overwhelming. I don’t know how you do it.”
Violet gasps, her eyes widening. “That explains so much. No wonder you were so secretive about your job. And when I first told you about Kaz, you asked which mafia he’s in. I was so confused about how you knew so much.”
I know more than enough, but this isn’t the time to open that door. Not yet.
