"Viktor didn't buy me. He made a business deal with you. There's a difference."
"Don't pretend you're above this world, Raphaella. You're living in it. Sleeping in it. You think Nikolai Ivanov married you for your sparkling personality?"
"At least I know who I married," I fire back. "Which is more than I can say about my own father. You never even told me what he looked like, Mother. Not once."
Something shifts behind her eyes. A flicker. Fast and gone, like a curtain being yanked back into place. She blinks. Sets her jaw.
"Your father is dead. There's nothing to tell."
"There's always something to tell. Unless there's something you don't want me to know."
She holds my stare for one beat too long. Then she looks away, and the mask snaps back.
I'm not the same frightened girl. I have something now I never had before.
A choice. And I know exactly where to place my trust. In myself. In Nikolai. In this little family we're growing.
"At least he sees me as a person," I say quietly. "Not a business asset."
"You ungrateful..."
Natalia shifts beside me. "I think that's enough." She cuts my mother off, and her voice is steady as bedrock. "Elle has made her position clear."
Dear God, bless Natalia. No one has ever defended me in front of my mother like this. I look at my friend, at the fierce loyalty she's just shown me, and something in my chest cracks open with gratitude.
Mother turns to her, eyes blazing. "This doesn't concern you."
"Elle concerns me," Natalia says simply. "And you're upsetting her in her own home."
Mother looks between us, calculating. Then she smiles. Tight and cold. "I see. Well, I've said what I came to say. The trust fund reverts to me, as per the legal agreement. I'm sure your new family will provide adequately."
"I'll walk you out," Natalia says, stepping forward. She picks up my mother's purse and hands it to her, a dismissal so elegant it almost looks polite.
Mother wants to refuse. But even she can see it's not worth the fight.
She looks at me one last time. "You've always been too naive for your own good."
"And you've always been too selfish to see it."
Natalia gestures toward the door. "This way."
Gayle stalks past her, heels clacking like gunfire on marble. I half-expect her to whirl back with one final insult, but she doesn't. The front door closes with a click that sounds suspiciously like freedom.
The quiet that follows feels unreal.
I sit back, exhale, and realize my hands are shaking.
Natalia returns. "She's gone," she says. Then adds with a small smirk, "And still breathing, if that's your concern."
I huff a laugh. "You're terrifyingly efficient."
"It's a gift." She takes her seat again, eyes softening. "You okay?"
I think about it. About how Gayle's words sliced into me, and how, for the first time, they didn't stick.
"I was hurt," I admit. "In that moment, yeah. Like she reached in and pressed every old bruise just to see if they'd still ache."
"And now?"
