The lighter burns hot in my hand. I look down and realize I've been flicking it open and closed so violently, my fingertips are blistering from the heat. But I can't stop. Can't let go.
My phone rings. Sergei.
"Where are you?" His voice is tight with concern. "You were supposed to check in an hour ago."
"Circo. Matthew just walked in with my mother." The words come out flat, emotionless. Shock, probably. "They're together, Sergei. Romantically. I watched her touch him like—" I can't finish.
"I'm coming to you."
"No. Stay home." I close the lighter, pocketing it before I burn myself worse. "I need to see this through. Need to know if she, if they?—"
"Kotyonok." His voice softens, that endearment wrapping around me even through the phone. "Whatever you're thinking, don't spiral. Wait for me."
"I'm not spiraling." I am absolutely spiraling. "I'm documenting. There's a difference."
"Isabelle—"
"She was married to him. My father. For thirty years." My voice cracks despite my best efforts. "And she's fucking his brother-in-law. The same man who killed him."
"You don't know that she knew?—"
"Don't I?" I laugh, brittle and sharp. "She panicked when I told her about us. She tried to get me to annul the marriage. Sheknew Matthew was dangerous because she's been in bed with him. Literally."
Tony shifts uncomfortably in the driver's seat, pretending he can't hear every word.
"I'm on my way. Stay in the car. Do not confront them."
"I won't?—"
"Promise me."
I stare at the restaurant entrance, at the warm light spilling onto the sidewalk, and imagine walking through that door. Finding their private room. Watching my mother's face when she realizes I know.
But Sergei's right. I can't confront them. Not yet. Not without a plan that doesn't end with me dead or Matthew disappearing before I can prove what he's done.
"I promise," I whisper.
"Good. Fifteen minutes."
He hangs up. I sit in the rented sedan, watching steam rise from a subway grate, watching people hurry past with their normal problems. My fingers itch for the lighter again, but I force my hands to stay still.
Tony's camera keeps clicking. Each shot is another nail in my mother's coffin.
The affair explains everything. Matthew's hovering presence after Dad's death, Mother's eagerness to marry me off to Cal, their coordinated control. They wanted me compliant, married to someone they could manipulate, while they divided Dad's empire between them.
And when I married Sergei instead, when I chose someone dangerous they couldn't buy or threaten, I became a problem.
My parents' marriage was cold, distant. I knew that. But I thought they had some baseline of respect, some shared history that mattered.
I was wrong.
A black SUV pulls up behind us. Sergei climbs out, moving toward my door. He opens it, and I tumble into his arms before conscious thought kicks in.
"I've got you," he murmurs against my hair, strong arms wrapping around me. "Let it out."
But I can't. If I start crying now, I won't stop. So I just stand there in his embrace, breathing him in, while my world continues crumbling.
"We're going to make them pay," Sergei says quietly. "Both of them. For your father. For what they tried to do to you. I promise."
