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I said quietly, “You’re not sacrificing yourself; you’re sacrificing me—my voice, my marriage, the trust I placed in you. You call that a sacrifice because admitting you’re afraid would mean staying by my side instead of pushing me away.”

His expression went completely still as my fingers moved to the clasp at the back of my neck. Sergei’s gaze followed them.

“Don’t,” he pleaded.

I opened the collar. The leather released from my throat with a soft click. The weight disappeared so suddenly that the skin beneath it felt cold. I crossed the small distance between us and placed the collar in his hand. His fingers didn’t close around it, so I folded them over the leather myself.

“I’m not ending our marriage.”

His eyes lifted to mine.

“I’m not saying I never want this again,” I continued. “I still love you. That is why this hurts as much as it does.”

“Alessia—”

“But you do not get to send me away without my consent.”

For the first time since I entered Nocturne, Sergei looked as though he had no plan. Then I took my passport from the flight folder and placed it inside my own handbag.

Sergei watched. “You are not leaving this house without security.”

“I know.”

“You cannot go back to New York.”

“I’m not.”

“Then where are you going to go?”

I took out my secure phone and called Maxim. He answered on the first ring.

“Alessia?”

“I need a Morozov escort to the estate.”

Maxim was silent for one beat. “Are you in danger?”

“No.” I held my husband’s gaze. “My husband and I are having a disagreement. He arranged international travel for me without my knowledge. I’m not taking the flight, but I don’t want to remain in the townhouse tonight.”

“Understood.”

“I want an armored vehicle with a route shared directly to my phone. I will wait inside until your team arrives.”

“Ten minutes.”

“Thank you.”

I ended the call, and Sergei looked down at the collar in his hand. Without another word, I changed, packed a few days of clothes, my laptop, my mother’s phone, and some of my design sketches. Ten minutes later, headlights swept across the front windows. Riley came through the first door before Nikolai, which meant she had probably elbowed past him in the foyer. She looked at me, then at the overnight bag in my hand. She didn’t ask any questions, and I appreciated that immensely. Nikolai remained behind her, his eyes moving from me to Sergei. Whatever he saw in his brother’s expression erased the humor that usually lived in his face.

“Alessia,” Sergei tried one last time. His voice was broken, and it was enough to give me pause. I stopped at the threshold but didn’t turn.

“I love you,” he said.

My eyes burned, and I tried not to, but I looked back then.

He stood inside the immaculate entryway with my collar wrapped around one broad hand, surrounded by the beautiful, ordered townhouse we had started turning into our home.

“I love you too,” I said.