"I'm going to break you," I whisper. "The way I was broken. And when you're at your lowest, when you have nothing left, I want you to remember that you did this. Your choices. Your betrayal. All of it."
"I didn't betray you," she says again. She's crying so hard she can barely speak. "But you're never going to believe that, are you? No matter what I say, what evidence I provide, you need me to be guilty."
She's right. The truth of it sits heavy in my chest.
"Get out," I say, releasing her wrist. "Before I do something we'll both regret."
"Like what? Admit you still love me?" Her laugh is bitter. "That fucking me in the garden felt right? That destroying me is destroying yourself?"
"Get. Out."
She stares at me, her eyes shining with her tears. I see her making a decision. Then she nods once, sharp and final.
"Fine. Destroy me if you need to. Take everything I built. But know this, Maksim Barinov: when you finally figure out thetruth, when you realize you were wrong about me, it's going to destroy you worse than any torture you endured."
She walks to the door, pauses with her hand on the knob.
"I loved you," she says without turning around. "I still love you. And nothing you do to me will change that. Not because I'm guilty and trying to manipulate you. But because some things survive even the worst betrayals. Even the ones that never actually happened."
Then she's gone.
Chapter Eleven
Kira
Maksim's words loop in my head on repeat.
I'm going to break you the way I was broken.
The scars covering his torso. The dead look in his eyes when he described what they did to him. The cold certainty that I was responsible for all of it.
I barely make it inside my apartment before the sobs tear free.
Six years. Six years I've held myself together with ice and willpower and the absolute conviction that I had to be strong. Strong enough to survive in a world designed to destroy women like me.
But seeing what they did to him shatters me. My heart feels like splinters stabbing me in the chest.
I slide down the door and let myself break.
I sob like I did the day I found he was dead. I cry for the loss of the man I love all over again. Nothing I say will convince him otherwise because he needs me to be guilty. Needs the revenge he planned for six years to have a target.
How do I fight that? How do I prove innocence to someone who's decided I'm guilty?
The worst part is that I still love him.
Even knowing he wants to destroy me. Even seeing the hatred in his eyes. Even after he systematically detailed how he's going to dismantle everything I've built.
I still love him so much it feels like dying.
When he was dead, I grieved. I don’t know how I’ll survive him being alive and dead to me.
I cry until there are no tears left. Until my throat is raw and my eyes are swollen and I'm empty of everything except exhaustion.
Then I force myself to stand.
The Ice Queen doesn't stay down. She adapts. Strategizes. Survives.
I wash my face in cold water, studying my reflection. Red eyes. Blotchy skin. The physical evidence of weakness I can't afford.
