She squeezes my hands harder. “Then we’ll find out who you are again. You’re still Elara Chang. You’re still the girl who always stands up to her father in a room full of men. Don’t forget that.”
A small, trembling smile tugs at my lips. For the first time since all this began, I feel the faintest flicker of hope.
Vivian smiles back, brushing a tear from my cheek with her thumb. “Besides,” she adds softly, “if Roman Rusnak thinks he’s marrying a quiet little doll, he’s in for a surprise.”
Despite myself, I laugh, and for a moment, just one fragile moment, it feels like I can breathe again.
“Enough about me,” I say, waving my hand. “Tell me what you’ve been up to, Viv. What’s the latest chaos in high society?”
Vivian rolls her eyes dramatically and leans back on the bed. “You have no idea. Last week, I went to this ridiculous socialite party in Paris—where everyone pretends they’re therefor charity, but really, they just want to show off their diamonds and bad facelifts.”
I laugh, the sound bubbling out before I can stop it. God, it feels good to laugh again.
“Oh, it gets better,” she continues, smirking. “One of the women brought her poodle dressed in Chanel. The dog had pearls, Elara. Pearls. Then her husband tried to flirt with a model and ended up spilling caviar all over the Minister of Trade’s wife’s dress. I swear, it was chaos.”
I double over laughing, clutching my stomach. “You’re lying.”
“I wish I was. You’d have loved it. It’s one of the reasons I was so frustrated when I couldn’t reach you. I was dying to tell you everything.” Her tone shifts slightly, softer now. “That night, I almost called your father, you know? Just to make sure you were okay.”
The laughter dies in my throat. My smile fades, replaced by a dull ache in my chest. “I’m glad you didn’t,” I say quietly. “You’d have walked straight into a trap.”
Vivian’s expression hardens, the playfulness gone. “Then it’s a good thing I’m here now,” she says firmly. “You’re not facing any of this alone, Elara. Not anymore.”
I nod, blinking hard. She always knows when to pull me back from the edge.
We spend the rest of the evening doing what we’ve always done best, talking about everything and nothing. We laugh until our stomachs ache, eat the dinner Luka sends up for us, and for the first time since I got here, I forget where I am. I forget that I’m a prisoner in a gilded cage.
By the time the clock creeps close to nighttime, Vivian is yawning every five minutes. I catch it and smirk. “Tired already? You’ve gone soft, darling.”
“Soft?” She scoffs between another yawn. “I’m twenty-five, Elara. Excuse me if I’m not exactly in my prime. But it’s all good. We should catch up more.”
I laugh, but I can see the fatigue in her eyes. “You should sleep,” I say.
“I’m fine,” she insists, crossing her arms. “I don’t want to leave you alone tonight.”
“You’re not leaving me,” I tell her softly. “You’re just going next door.”
She sighs, finally giving in. “Fine. But if you need me, please call me.”
I roll my eyes. “Good night, Viv.”
I walk her to her room. She’s only four doors down from mine, and I watch her set her bag on the dresser. She looks back at me, eyes soft. “I still can’t believe you’re getting married.”
“Don’t remind me,” I say, forcing a smile. Then I lean forward, press a quick kiss to her cheek. “Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nods, and I step out, closing the door quietly behind me. The hallway feels quieter than usual, too quiet. For a moment, I just stand there, hand on the door handle, listening to the silence before walking back to my room.
When I push the door open, my heart nearly stops.
Roman is standing by the window, hands tucked into his pockets, half of his face washed in the amber glow of the lamp. The air feels heavy and charged.
I freeze in the doorway. “What are you doing here?” My voice comes out smaller than I intended.
He doesn’t answer right away. Just turns, storms over, shuts the door behind me with a soft click, and faces me fully. The silence between us stretches like a wire pulled too tight.
Finally, he says, “I know you’ve been sabotaging your father’s laundering since you were eighteen.”
I blink. “What?”
