"Pushed a pregnant woman and now she's making excuses. Shameless."
Hearing those words hurt. But what hurt more was that they came because of what he said.
I'd been mocked my whole life. For where I came from. For how I looked. But nothing ever hurt like this.
Because this time, it was my husband who cut me down.
"Kirill." Tears spilled down my face. "You believe her? You won't even... let me explain?"
Kirill didn't answer. He just lifted Genevie into his arms and turned to the guards behind him. "Take her to the basement. Don't let her out until I say so."
I froze. I couldn't believe what I'd just heard.
"Kirill!" Olga's voice cut through the crowd. She strode forward, her face dark with anger. "You can't do this to Harper! She's your wife!"
"Olga." Kirill's voice was iron. "If you want me to agree to that condition you mentioned, then shut up. Now."
Olga went pale. She stopped where she was. Didn't take another step.
Two guards stepped forward. They grabbed my arms and started dragging me toward the hallway.
"No... let go of me!" I struggled, but they were too strong. "Kirill! Kirill! Just listen to me!"
He never turned around.
Kirill just held Genevie, whispering something soft to her.
In the last second before they dragged me into the darkness, I saw her face through my tears.
She was still crying. Still pale. Still nestled in Kirill's arms.
But at the corner of her mouth, barely visible—a cold, triumphant smile.
Chapter Seventeen
Harper
They threw me into the basement like a bag of trash.
The heavy iron door slammed shut behind me, followed by the sharp click of a lock turning.
Not a single ray of light. The air reeked of moldy earth and rusted metal, a stench that churned my stomach and made me want to puke my guts out.
It was cold as a morgue freezer. Damp chill seeped through the cracks in the floor, drilling into my bones like thousands of needles.
"Ugh..." I tried to get up, but the second I moved, my waist exploded in tearing pain. That collision with the staircase railing had done real damage. Every movement was torture. I gasped and collapsed back onto the freezing concrete.
I curled into a ball, arms wrapped around my knees, trying to use that thin, dust-covered velvet gown to shield myself from the bone-deep cold.
But I couldn't stop shaking. My teeth chattered, clicking in the dead silence.
Ha. How pathetic, Harper.
I'll admit it—I'd had that stupid fantasy. That these past fewmonths meant something. That the occasional warmth in those silver-gray eyes was real.
I knew he was a devil, but like a moth to flame, I'd thrown myself at that tiny spark of light anyway. Now the light was out. Nothing left but ashes. I wasn't just a substitute. I was a complete joke. In his eyes, I wasn't worth Genevie's pinky finger.
I didn't want to fight anymore. Didn't want to explain. Too tired. Too painful.
