I lean closer without thinking, my heart climbing into my throat.
“We’ll go blood for blood,” Dimitri says, voice like steel. “I’ve neither forgiven nor forgotten.”
The words hit me like a slap.
Blood for blood.
My stomach drops. The floor feels like it tilts under me. For a moment, all I hear is my heartbeat—loud, panicked, stupid.
Stupid. That’s what I am.
To think things were changing. To think he could ever care. To think this morning—his hands, his smile, the tenderness—meant anything beyond strategy.
I step back from the door, so quietly it scares me. My chest hurts, like something delicate has been cracked open inside me.
I don’t knock.
I don’t speak.
I just turn around and walk back to the dining room.
And I eat lunch alone.
Throughout the day, I avoid him completely. The moment I finish eating, I go straight to my room, shut the door, and lock it—not because I think he’ll try to come in, but because I need the barrier. I need the distance. I need something solid between me and the truth I overheard.
Barely ten minutes pass before there’s a knock.
Sylvester.
“Madam, sir requests that you join him for lunch.”
“I’ve eaten,” I say quietly. “Please tell him that.”
Sylvester hesitates—eyes flicking over my face, searching for something—but eventually nods and leaves. And I wait. I lie there on the bed, staring at the ceiling, telling myself he’ll come knocking any second, demanding an explanation, dragging the truth out of me the way he always does.
He doesn’t.
The silence is worse.
Hours crawl by before Sylvester returns, knocking gently like he’s approaching a wounded animal.
“Madam…sir requests to see you in his study.”
I don’t even think. “Tell him I’m busy. I—” My voice cracks, and I force it steady. “I can’t come.”
Sylvester’s brows fold with worry. “Madam…are you sure? He—”
“I’m sure,” I whisper. “Go.”
He lingers, like he wants to say something, like he’s afraid for me, but I push a shaky smile and nod. Eventually, he leaves.
And again, I wait.
This time, I’m sure Dimitri will come storming down the hall—angry, impatient, unwilling to tolerate even a hint of defiance.
But the hours go by.
And he doesn’t come.
