Chapter 12 #2
“Yeah,” Milana says under her breath. “I hope Artyom said something back.”
I look up at her. “He did.”
Calina studies me for a moment. “You sound… conflicted.”
“Because I am,” I say, the words sharper than I mean them to be. “He defended me. I didn’t ask him to, but he did. And now everyone’s looking at me like I just caused an international scandal.”
Calina leans forward. “What exactly happened between them, Kira?”
I tell them and when I finish, Calina exhales slowly, the sound more like resignation than surprise. Milana lets out a low whistle, leaning back in her chair.
“He grabbed Boris?” she says, eyes wide. “Like actually grabbed him?”
“Yeah.”
She blinks, setting her fork down on the plate with a soft clink. “Wow.”
Calina’s posture straightens, her fingers folding neatly in her lap. Her voice is calm, but there’s tension hiding under it. “That’s… not good.”
I stare at her. “You think?”
Milana lifts her fork again, waving it for emphasis. “Honestly, good for him. Someone should have done it years ago.”
“Milana,” Calina says, sharper now, her gaze cutting sideways.
Milana rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile she can’t quite hold back. “What? You know what Boris is like.” She leans back, crossing one leg over the other, shoulders loose in that defiant way she does when she knows she’s pushing it.
Calina doesn’t reply, just presses her lips together, the quiet between them saying more than words.
I look from one to the other, my pulse starting to pick up again. “You two know more than you’re telling me.”
They exchange a quick glance, one of those wordless conversations that happens only between sisters. Calina’s eyes flick away first, but Milana holds my gaze for a heartbeat longer, her expression softening.
“Just tell me,” I say quietly, my voice steadier than I feel. “Whatever it is, I’d rather hear it from you than anyone else.”
Calina’s voice is careful. “Irina and Artyom were supposed to be engaged.”
Something inside me dips, more disappointment than shock. “Yeah. I kind of picked up on that.”
Milana jumps in before Calina can answer. “It wasn’t official. The fathers set it up. It was more business than love, trust me.” She says it quickly, like she’s trying to soften the blow.
“But it was real enough for Boris to act like I stole something,” I say, my voice tighter than I mean it to be. My hands are clasped around the coffee cup, but the warmth does nothing to steady me.
Calina nods slowly. “He blames you because Artyom refused the arrangement. He used you to make that refusal believable.”
For a moment, I can’t speak. I stare at her, waiting for her to laugh or take it back, but she doesn’t.
“So, this is why he made this deal with me,” I say finally, each word careful, deliberate, like if I say it too fast it might break me, “He’s using me as a shield. To keep them away.”
Calina’s expression softens. “At first,” she says quietly. “But it’s not that simple anymore.”
Her tone is gentle, but it doesn’t stop the heat from rising in my chest. My stomach twists, a dull ache that’s part humiliation, part something else. I look down at my hands, realizing I’ve been turning the ring on my finger without even noticing. The metal feels heavier now, colder.
I press my palms together, trying to keep my voice steady. “He didn’t tell me.”
Calina gives me a sympathetic look. “He probably didn’t think he had to.”
I let out a dry laugh. “Wow...”
Milana shakes her head. “He’s an idiot, but he’s not heartless. You saw how he reacted. That wasn’t about politics. That was about you.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I don’t even know what I’d say.
Calina reaches across the table, resting her hand on mine. “I know it doesn’t make sense now, but he’s not the kind of man who does anything without good reason. Even if he doesn’t say it.”
I nod, but the words barely land. My chest feels tight, my head buzzing with everything I’ve just heard.
Milana stands, stretching. “Well, if it helps, Irina’s probably miserable right now. So that’s a win.”
“Milana,” Calina warns, but she’s smiling a little too.
“I’m serious,” Milana says. “I don’t trust that woman.”
I almost smile back.
Calina glances at the clock. “You should rest. You’ve had a long night.”
I stand. “Yeah. Thanks. For breakfast. And… for telling me.”
They nod, and Calina gives my hand one last squeeze before they leave. The second the door clicks shut, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
I try to rest, but my mind won’t stop spinning. I lie there, staring at the ceiling, the words echoing again and again. I turn over, pressing my face into the pillow. The sheets smell clean, expensive, foreign. Everything in this place feels like it belongs to someone else, including me.
He should’ve told me what I was up against. He had every chance to. But instead, he let me stand there like a fool, defending something I didn’t even understand.
My fingers find the ring on my hand. I twist it until it digs into my skin. It’s beautiful, heavy, and fake all at once.
I tell myself I don’t care. That this is all business, that he’s just another man with too much power and too little conscience. But deep down, I know that’s a lie. Because no matter how angry I am, I can still feel him looking at me.
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling again, wishing I didn’t care. But I do, and that’s what scares me most.