Elena, where are you now? Are you okay?
Finally, after midnight's chimes, guests began departing. Natasha and her parents left as well. I prepared to leave, desperate to rush out immediately and find Elena.
"Igor." Father's voice stopped me cold.
I halted and turned around. "Father."
"Where are you going? In such a hurry?" His tone sounded casual, but that casualness was the most dangerous thing of all.
"Handling some business. Family business," I said, trying to sound matter-of-fact.
"What business?" His voice turned arctic, temperature plummeting. "Can't Artyom handle it?"
"Salvatore might be making moves. Artyom needs me to confirm." I met my father's eyes directly.
He stared at me for several seconds, gaze sharp as blades.
Finally, he spoke. "Day after tomorrow, we're having dinner with the Ivanovs at the estate to discuss wedding dates and arrangements. You will be there. No more scenes like tonight."
"I understand."
"Tonight, you embarrassed both families. If Natasha hadn't been smart enough to cover for you—but next time, you better think carefully about what matters more."
"I understand, Father."
"You better really understand." He stepped closer, eyes cold as if looking at a stranger. "Because if you sabotage this engagement, it won't just damage our family empire—it'll cost you your inheritance."
A clear threat. Father had plenty of legitimate sons of age who'd been eyeing this position. He could replace me with a more obedient heir at any time.
"It won't happen," my voice sounded firm. "I won't disappoint the family. I know my responsibilities and duties."
He studied me for several seconds, then nodded. "Go. But remember—day after tomorrow."
"Yes."
Finally, I could escape. I strode quickly to the parking garage and got into my black Ferrari. Gripping the steering wheel, engine roaring, I shot into the black night.
Snow was falling harder, windshield quickly accumulating thick ice that the wipers couldn't clear despite their frantic motion. But I didn't care. I just wanted to reach Elena, to hear her voice.
I drove recklessly, speeding through red lights, ignoring police sirens behind me. From Long Island to Brooklyn in under thirty minutes. The car skidded to a stop outside her apartment building, tires slipping on snow with a harsh screech.
I jumped out, rushed into the shabby building, and used my key to unlock her door. The living room was dark. Elena wasn't back.
I flicked on the lights, taking in the familiar small space. Nothing seemed missing, which gave me brief relief. But when I walked toward the bedroom, my entire world stopped. The bedroom was empty. Elena's usual clothes were gone, her books vanished, and even the photo of her and her parents had been removed.
On the nightstand sat all the gifts I'd given her, neatly arranged.
My eyes stopped on a pair of earrings—ruby-studded earrings. I'd never given Elena earrings. No, this had to be what I'd asked Artyom to buy yesterday—the idiotic gift that perfectly demonstrated how little I knew her. Elena didn't even have pierced ears.
"Damn it." I cursed under my breath as unprecedented panic crashed over me like a tsunami.
My hands trembled as I picked up the unfamiliar black wallet beside them. It was exquisite, obviously handmade, with my initials "I.V." engraved on it. I traced every inch—each stitch revealed patience and love. How much time and devotion had gone into this work?
I opened the wallet. Inside was a small note in Elena's handwriting.
[For Igor, commemorating our six months together. I hope every time you open this wallet, you'll think of me. Love you always, Elena.]
Unbearable pain struck. My chest felt like someone hadplunged a knife in, then twisted the blade. I tried to breathe, but the agony had stolen all the air.
