I raise an eyebrow. “Is lock-picking one of her talents?”
“Among others. Our father was paranoid about home security. Taught us both.”
I file that information away. Useful skills in this family.
Julian turns to Bella, bending to kiss her cheek. “We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” His eyes carry a message I can’t decipher. Something just between siblings.
Bella nods, squeezing his hand.
“Tomorrow, then,” I say, watching as he heads for the exit. “And Julian—if you’d like to continue soccer professionally, I know several excellent coaches in Europe. Just say the word.”
He pauses, looking back at me with a mix of confusion and intrigue. “I’ll… keep that in mind. Goodnight.”
The door closes behind him. Leaving just us.
Bella and me.
Eleven days of absence crystallized into this moment.
She stands, smoothing her dress. The fabric catches the starlight, shimmering like water. It clings to her curves in a way that feels unintentional and deliberate all at once. The wind tugs at her hair, pulling strands across her face. There’s something different about her. Beyond the glow. A new strength in the set of her shoulders. A challenge in her eyes.
“I should go too—”
“Stay.” It comes out more command than request. I soften it. “Please.”
Her eyes narrow, but she remains standing. “Why? You made yourself pretty clear last time.”
“Bella—”
“Eleven days, Konstantin. Not a word. Not a text. Nothing. Now you show up dropping truth bombs about your ‘crime family’ to my teenage brother?”
“He asked.”
“And you just answered? Just like that?”
I move to one of the telescopes, adjusting it absently. Buying time. “He deserves honesty.”
“Unlike me?”
Her question hangs in the air. Sharp-edged and cutting.
I look at her—really look at her. The wind tugs at her hair, pulling strands across her face. The dress shifts against her skin,the hem catching on her thigh as she shifts her weight. There’s a fire in her eyes now. A steel edge that wasn’t there before.
“I didn’t come here to fight.”
“Why did you come here, then?” Her chin lifts. She’s still standing, but there’s a slight shift in her posture, a tightening of her jaw, a clench of her fists. A readiness for whatever bullshit excuse I’m about to give.
Because Tatiana is meeting my father tonight. Because the succession ceremony is in six days. Because something is happening beneath the surface of this family, and I can’t see it clearly. Because I’ve thought about you every day for eleven days, and it’s driving me fucking insane.
I say none of that.
Instead, I reach into my pocket, pulling out the small velvet box.
“I brought you something.”
Her gaze drops to the box, then back up to me. “What? A muzzle?”
“No,” I say, stepping closer. “A bracelet.”
