Katya looks at the necklace one last time.
I don’t feel sorry for her. Not even a little.
“Sold.” The gavel comes down. “To Mr. Yaromir Volkov.”
The room applauds politely. It sounds like knives against glass.
Yaromir finally looks away from me and toward Dmitri. Nothing in his expression changes. That somehow makes it worse.
Dmitri’s face is hard with humiliation. Katya stares straight ahead, lips pressed together, trying to look indifferent and failing.
My heart is beating too fast. I should feel victorious. And I do. But under it is something more complicated. Not guilt. Never guilt. More like disbelief. A week ago, I was running through alleys with blood on my dress. Now I’m standing beside Yaromir while he buys an emerald necklace to make my ex-fiancé and former friend bleed in public.
The world is absurd.
The attendants carry the necklace away for final documentation.
I think that’s the end of it.
It’s not.
Ten minutes later, a man in a black suit approaches with a velvet case. He bows slightly to Yaromir and presents it. “Mr. Volkov.”
Yaromir takes the case.
I look up at him. “What are you doing?”
He opens it. The emerald necklace sits inside, brighter up close, cold and magnificent. The stones are darker than I realized, deep green with fire trapped somewhere inside them. It looks far too heavy for me.
Yaromir removes it from the velvet.
My stomach dips.
“Turn around,” he says.
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“Everyone is watching.”
“I know.”
My cheeks warm, but I turn.
The room shifts around us. Conversations weaken. Attention gathers again, greedy and silent. I can feel Dmitri’s eyes. Katya’s. Galina’s. Every woman who called me desperate. Every man who wondered what exactly I had become.
Yaromir steps behind me. His presence fills the space at my back before he touches me. Then the necklace settles against my throat, cool and startlingly heavy. His fingers brush the nape of my neck as he fastens the clasp.
A shiver runs down my spine.
I hate that it happens in front of everyone.
I hate that he knows.
His mouth comes close to my ear. “Lift your chin.”
I obey before I can stop myself.
