“You lied to me.” I looked over my shoulder.
“About?” Arkady said distractedly as he stepped out from the statues with a small bag in hand. He looked at me in confusion and with caution, shrugging off his coat and placing it on the arm of a statue, placing the bag on its lap.
Then he saw, his secret spilled onto the floor, the clothes, the bags. His expression fell, but in dread.
“You ...” My legs were moving, but it felt like I was falling. “Youdid this!” I shouted, slamming the crumpled newspaper into his chest.
He let the papers fall to the floor, looking to me with a stern expression, not needing to see to know of my discovery.
“It was necessary.” His hands reached cautiously for mine.
“You said you would protect me!” I threw his hands away from me. “You were going to leave me, is that it? Teach me to love, possess my body and soul, just to leave me more shattered than when you came?”
“I had to,” he said carefully, but then seemed to bite his tongue on any more explanations.
“All you had to do was keep him hidden! Getridof him! Why did you keep him?” My throat caught, and I couldn’t stop shaking my head. “At my father’s factory too? You then led a trail of blood right back to us.”
“This is for your own good.” He was more reserved, cutting himself off from me. “You will understand soon.” He reached for my hand.
“You are sick! And selfish!” I seethed as he grasped my shoulders.
He held me at arm’s length, bending to meet me at eye level. “Calm yourself, I need you to listen.”
“No! You take your money and you run, you coward!” I cried, covering my face. “He will kill us, Arkady.He will!”
Arkady pulled me back into an embrace. “He won’t touch you—”
“And neither will you!” I screamed, shoving him so hard, I stumbled back.
“Petre.”
I felt a hand on my shoulder before slapping it away. “Don’t touch me!” My voice shook as much as my hand, my head light, stomach too empty to feel the spell of nausea.
“It was for the better—”
“The statue you donated,” I breathed. “The one of the couple, for the charity auction.”
He shut his mouth, swallowing thickly.
“Was it ...” I knew in my heart what the answer would be.
“Please.” He reached out to grab me, and I jolted back.
“Were they people?” My lip trembled uncontrollably. “Have you been doing this all along?” I whispered, so softly it was likely no sound came.
He left me with no answer.
“I need to be away from you—”
“Let me explain—”
“Faraway,” I said sharply, already making for the door.
“Wait—” He grabbed my arm.
“What part ofdon’t touch medo you not understand?” I yanked my wrist from his hand like it burned the very skin it touched. “Leave me! Leave me like you planned and spare me any more heartache!”
I didn’t wait for another moment, another opportunity to falter. His charms were no longer effective, not while I was seeing clearly.The disgust in my gut, the rot in my heart, was reserved just for him. A small part of me wondered if my reaction was somehow a reflection of how I felt about myself, but I wasn’t in a proper headspace to dissect that inclination.
