“Meaning?”
He shrugs. “I don’t want this. Never did.”
“Yeah, right.” I snort a laugh. “And you expect me to believe that?”
“You can believe whatever you want. I’m telling you the truth. My mother dumped her life goals on me the moment I was born. And for the longest time, I followed her lead, because I didn’t know who I was, or who I wanted to be. It drove a wedge between me and Wolf, and now it’s probably too late to take it out, but… yeah. I don’t want to steer this ship. And even if I did, I wouldn’t be as good as him. We are what we are.” He smiles bitterly.
I don’t know what to say to that. It feels like a confession of sorts, like he needed to hear himself say that for some reason. Maybe to give him peace.
“And to answer your question,” he continues. “I care because I know my mother set you up. And I hate to be the one to say it, but…”
I nod, my shoulders slackening. “I know. You warned me about her…”
He walks to the window, looking out into the distance.
“Do you really think he’ll come around?” I ask.
“I think that when he’s ready to forgive you, he’ll hate himself for all the time you two have lost.”
31
VICTORIA
Six days have passed. Maybe—I don’t even know. Each day merges into a vacuum of futility, and I’m just a soul being dragged along aimlessly. If I were dead, I wouldn’t know the difference.
I wake up, I look for him, he doesn’t come. He never comes back for me.
The hardest part is leaving this room—the one he locked me in when I first arrived. Because I know what’s out there, beyond these walls. A house void of him, of his presence, of everything I loved. A house that breathes with malice, in which I can’t trust a single soul. He was right when he told me he was my only ally. I didn’t listen.
The rubies he gifted me on my birthday stare back at me from the vanity.
Sunrays swim in the red of them, luring me in like sirens. I get out of bed, approach them, and stretch out my fingers until they’re in my hand. I bring them to my face, inhaling what’s left of his perfume from when he held them. They used to smell like him, and I used to hate it because it reminded me I belonged to a monster. Now I crave him on me—on my skin, on my lips, everywhere…
I stretch out the necklace, bringing it to my neck, watching myself in the mirror. Seeing what I used to look like when I was his. But when tears blur my vision, I put it back on the desk, my head lowered under the weight of the hollow space in my heart.
The only thing keeping me going is finding out whether or not he fixed my mess and got himself the throne he earned. I haven’t heard anything of such, but then again, no one talks to me anymore. Either they know what I’ve done and they’re avoiding me… or he told them they’re supposed to just tolerate me.
I’m hoping for the latter, because that would mean he did it out of hate. Not indifference. And I’d rather burn under his rage than wither away slowly knowing he no longer cares.
I pull a hoodie over my body, feeling the chill of what’s looking to be a cloudy day. My stomach grumbles, begging for food, but I ignore it. I don’t know why I’m doing it—maybe it’s easier to feel any kind of physical pain than the loss I carry with me.
Outside the room, my eyes land on the door in front of me—of the bedroom we used to share. He’s probably not in there, but I still can’t muster the courage to walk back in time and see it,to remember what we used to do in there. So I just breathe and walk away until I’m on the ground floor, and hearing voices.
I flinch, not wanting to be seen, and especially not wanting to see the woman who started all of this.
I yelled at Ekaterina after the fight with Wolfgang. Got her to confess she was just using me. Turns out she was happy to stop pretending. She told me I was on their side now, and I told her to go to hell. If I meet her again, I’ll cause another scene.
Ultimately, I chose to betray my husband—and I’m owning that. But even if she didn’t force me to do it, she’s fucking heinous. She put this whole thing in motion, and I fell right into her trap.
Thankfully, she’s not here. But my heart skips a beat when I see Ivan in the door frame reading something on his phone. He’s not my husband, but seeing him here means Wolf is close by. That I’m somewhere in his proximity, where I can breathe a little easier. Pretend he’s still mine.
“What can I do for you?” Ivan asks, without taking his eyes off his phone.
“I… is Wolfgang around?”
He looks up. “He is.”
“I need to see him. Is he in his study?”
