It’s worth sacrificing my happiness. There are greater things at risk. I can’t be that selfish. That reminder fortifies me. I am doing the right thing. I need to be strong.
I only regret my choice of words, but any other argument, he would have bulldozed through and made me give in. I even considered a secret relationship, but that would definitely have gone wrong.
It’s not that I haven’t pondered endlessly about how we could live out our love story a thousand times, but each scenario ends in tragedy. The nightmare I had the other morning, which continued on the plane, was so chillingly real that I would be stupid to ignore the warning.
Downstairs, I have breakfast with my mother. Since my father died, she has retreated into herself. The usual silence is welcomed now.
“Nervous about tonight?”
I shake my head, fidgeting with my fingers in my lap. What if he doesn’t come to my concert? He will. He never misses one. It’s a small consolation, but I don’t know what his absence might cause me—surely total annihilation.
“Was he here?” I ask even though I saw the proof, but it might as well be that the pain caused a sickness to root into my synapses, causing insanity.
“Yes. He looked…bad.”
Disheveled. Hurt. Gutted. All because of me.
Chin quivering, I nod, not needing her to tell me what I already know.
I craved his love but ended up breaking his heart.
My appetite vanishes, and I don’t bother pretending to eat any longer. Standing up, I go outside in search of Kill, needing some doggy snuggles.
The men have always kept their distance, but especially after my kidnapping. The broken princess in the ivory tower.
I could have been a Bratva queen. A woman who, despite her trauma, flourished and became someone unbreakable.
We are all born in shackles. Some of us are just aware of them—like me.
It doesn’t take me long to find Kill. The moment I call him, he takes off in my direction. He gets bigger every day. He jumps on me with all his Rottweiler strength, and I fall on my back on the grass, laughing as he licks my face.
“I missed you too,” I say and pat him. “Who’s a good boy?”
He barks a response, waiting for his treat. I pluck one treat from my jeans pocket, and he swallows it in one go. Sitting down, he cocks his head, expecting more.
“Greedy male,” I sigh and offer him another.
I wave at Lorenzo to get his attention and tell him I am taking Kill for a stroll.
By the pond, I tread my feet through the water while Kill fixes his attention on the koi.
Silence used to comfort me. This home used to feel safe. But everything feels wrong. Which is ironic, as the only thing that changed is me.
As if Kill feels my distress because dogs are the best, he pokes his head into my side before he rests it on my lap.
I pat him absentmindedly.
“I love Mikail Morozov. In our world, that would make me susceptible to being used against him. I’ve guarded that secret for all my life, and now, I’m afraid it’s etched on my face.”
Another deep sigh heaves my chest, waiting for long minutes in the hopes Mika will come.
He doesn’t. At some point, I return to the house to get myself ready for my concert.
I slip into a black dress to fit my somber mood and put on the jewelry he gifted me in Paris. As I brush the necklace, I remember how he made me feel. Cherished. Adored. Thoroughly loved—body and heart.
Instant heat coils in my core, and I snatch one of my exclusive bags and head out.
Lorenzo waits for me by the entrance door to assign a driver, but I pass him by, saying, “I’m driving myself.”
