Chapter 57
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
Lily
There’s a dull thud as I kick my legs out to stretch. I frown, sitting up and peering over the edge of the bed, rubbing sleep from my eyes.
I flick on the light and slip out of bed, expecting to find a pillow or my phone.
Instead, my heart nearly hammers out of my throat.
It’s a painting.
Intricately done. Large enough that it must have taken hours.
Of me.
The icy blue waves in the background are exactly how I pictured them on the plane when he told me to breathe. The tiny freckles beside my nose. The dark haze in my eyes. Even the way I do my eyeliner.
I swallow hard, my throat burning.
I glance at the bottom corner.
His signature.
And a small heart beside his name.
Tears spill freely down my face. Not just because he’s talented—but because he spent his time painting me. I am the art to him. Something worth studying. Worth memorizing.
Carefully, I place the painting on the bed and reach for the white envelope lying beside it. My fingers tremble as I open it and read.
Lastochka.
I promised I’d make this right for us. Your heart is special, and I want to be the man to treasure it.
To do that, I have to be worthy. And there are many truths about my past that I need to tell you.
Art for me is what quiets my mind. And I draw what inspires me.
Which is you, Lily. You inspire me to be a better man.
But I also know there are parts of yourself that you’re hiding, just as I am. Things we’ve both been too scared to confront on our own.
In the wardrobe, you’ll find a dress for this evening. I want to watch you fall in love again.
Maybe it’s not dancing. But perhaps you’d like to join me to watch the ballet as my date?
You saved me.
Let me help you find yourself again.
I’ll be waiting for you at the theatre. Charlotte will escort you there. 8 p.m. tonight.
If you say yes, this will be the start of the rest of our lives.
No more surviving. I want us to live.
Love,
Drago.
I read it once.
Then again.
A few weeks ago, the thought of ballet would’ve made my knees weak in the worst way. A dream I thought I’d never touch again. One that used to make me physically sick just thinking about.
But now?
The idea of sitting beside him. His hand in mine. His presence grounding me. I can do it. I want to live again.
Opening the wardrobe, I find the white box immediately. Inside is a stunning black floor-length dress. Halterneck. Subtle diamonds stitched into the fabric that catch the light when I move. The bottom flows freely with a slit running all the way up to the top of my thigh.
Beneath it is a pair of killer heels.
I grab my phone. Whatever he’s doing today feels serious. Important. So I don’t call.
I text.
Me: I’ll see you at 8 p.m. Be safe today, moy zashchitnik.
His reply comes almost instantly.
Drago: I told you, I’ll move the earth to make it home to you.
I’m still daydreaming about tonight as I push open the doors to the gallery with Charlotte behind me.
Roxy lets out an excited scream and launches herself at me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Lily!”
I laugh, hugging her back before she finally pulls away.
“Have you been bored here on your own?” I tease.
She nods, giving me those sad puppy dog eyes—then her gaze flicks past me to my new shadow.
“Oh, this is Charlotte,” I tell her.
Charlotte steps forward with an easy smile and offers her hand. Roxy shakes it, grinning.
“You’re prettier than the last bodyguard,” Roxy jokes.
Charlotte laughs. “Prettier than a beast, just as deadly.”
I bite the inside of my cheek.
Drago is beautiful. Dangerous in a way you can feel.
But Roxy isn’t wrong. Charlotte is stunning, too. The kind of woman people underestimate just because she looks polished and sweet.
Roxy’s eyes widen.
Sometimes I forget that not everyone lives in this world. As much as I’ve told Roxy the truth, I’ve still tried to shelter her from it. I can’t have her resigning on me. Not now. Not when I need her more than ever.
“It’s crazy you even need bodyguards,” she says cautiously. “Like… is someone trying to kill you?”
I glance at Charlotte.
She gives me the smallest shake of her head—don’t scare her.
“No, Roxy,” Charlotte says smoothly. “Don’t worry. It’s just precautions when other things are going on. Lily is safe. So are you.”
Roxy nods slowly, reassured. Then she darts to her desk and snatches a black bag, hurrying back to shove it into my hands.
“This is the sweater you ordered, for umm…”
“Oh yeah,” I giggle, pulling it out just enough to sneak a quick look.
My stomach flips.
I can’t wait to give this to him.
God, I can’t wait for him to get home so we can make up—properly this time.
“My mom is coming in for lunch today,” I say, already exhausted. “I doubt she’ll be long, and then we can go over the plans for Marco.”
Roxy rolls her eyes. “His assistant is so annoying.”
I glare at her. “Play nice. We need this showing.”
She clutches her chest dramatically. “I’m always nice. I’m just saying… he’s very particular.”
I shrug. “Most artists are about their work.”
I turn to Charlotte. “Would you like a quick tour?”
“I’d love one.” She smiles. “It’s so cool here. I love the gothic elements, but it’s still so cute.”
“Thank you,” I say, warmth blooming in my chest.
And I can’t help but think about what I could create with a gallery in Monaco. How, instead of the gothic vibe, I’d go for something lighter. Blues perhaps. Clean and bright.
By the time I show her the rooms, we end up in the kitchen.
“So,” Charlotte says, leaning against the counter with a grin. “You and Drago?”
“Yet to be determined.” I try to sound casual. “I like him, though.”
She sips her coffee. “I’d love to see Drago finally find his happy. He deserves it.”
I nod slowly. “You two are really close, right?”
I haven’t forged much of a friendship with Charlotte yet, not like Hallie or Bella. But I’ve seen the loyalty. The trust.
“I owe that man my life,” she says simply.
The front door opens, and my pulse spikes.
I tap the side of my mug, already bracing myself.
“Shit,” I whisper. “Wish me luck.”
Charlotte follows immediately as I head out.
And there she is. My mother—standing in the middle of my gallery like she owns the air inside it.
She looks… better today. Less worn out. Her makeup is done, and the deep red lipstick is bold against her pale skin. Her hair is freshly dyed, darker. Smoother.
“Mom,” I say cautiously.
She turns, and her face brightens into a beaming smile.
“Lily! You look beautiful,” she gushes, stepping back as if she needs to take me in properly.
Roxy appears beside me like a protective little guard dog. “I’ll go grab the coffees. What would you like—”
“Maria,” I lean in and whisper.
Roxy’s lips press into a line, but she nods and turns to my mother again.
“I’d love a vanilla latte, please, dear,” my mom says.
“I’ll have a flat white,” I add quickly. “And grab us some sweet treats. And whatever Charlotte would like.”
My mom’s gaze lands on Charlotte. And stays there. No smile. No expression. Just… staring.
My stomach twists.
“Mom?” I prompt.
She clears her throat and blinks like she’s waking up. “Sorry. I was zoning out.”
I force a smile. “Come on. Let’s go to my office.”
Maybe my dad is right. Maybe she’s on drugs.
Once we’re in my office, I leave the door open. Charlotte’s instructions are echoing in my head. No locked doors. She needs line of sight at all times unless I’m in the bathroom.
I hate that it’s necessary. I hate that I also prefer Drago following me around.
“I’m so pleased you wanted to see me, Lily,” my mom says, voice softening. “I’ve really missed you.”
I sit, crossing one leg over the other, anxiety scratching at my chest like a warning. I inhale slowly. “I wanted to give you another chance to make it right, Mom.”
Her eyes drop to the floor. “How do I do that?” she asks. “I can’t change what Sasha did to you.”
I flinch.
The way she says his name, so normal, so casual, like he isn’t a predator who ripped my world apart.
“No. You can’t,” I say, voice tight. “But that night, I lost all trust that you’d protect me as my mother. Where were you? How did he get into my dressing room? Why?”
She takes a deep breath. “He said he wanted to introduce himself to you.”
I scoff. “He fucking did that.”
“He wanted to persuade you to join us,” she rushes out. “To come to Ohio. I was missing you so badly. He thought it would cheer me up.”
My mouth drops open, and my stomach turns. “So he thought raping me would scare me into—”
I can’t even finish it. My skin turns cold.
I feel sweat bead on my forehead. My fists clench, nails biting into my palms as my heart races.
“I didn’t know that was his plan,” she says quickly. “I thought he was just going to ask. Or offer you money. I don’t know.”
I stare at her, and for some reason, I want to hug her. She looks so sad, so lost. At the end of the day, she is my mom. She fucked up, but it wasn’t her. Not really.
“You swear on my life you didn’t know?”
Tears spill down her cheeks. “Lily, I swear. I had no idea he was that man. He was always so sweet to me.” Her voice breaks. “I just wanted you home. I didn’t want him to hurt you. I’d never let anyone hurt my baby.”
She starts to sob. And despite every rational part of me screaming don’t, I’m out of my chair and wrapping my arms around her. Comforting her. It feels wrong, like I’m betraying myself.
“I lost you both that day,” she chokes out. “My life was a lie. I’m so sorry, Lily. Please forgive me. I can’t die knowing you hate me.”
I pull back instantly.
“Die?” My voice sharpens. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She shakes her head too fast. “Nothing. I’m getting older, Lily.” She wipes at her cheeks just as Roxy knocks and comes in with two coffees and two cakes on a tray.
She doesn’t say a word. Just drops them on the coffee table and leaves like she can’t stand the air in here.
“I want to be your mom again,” my mother whispers. “I’m sorry I didn’t put you first. That I let you down. I was just so fixed on trying to make our lives better that I forgot to live it with you.”
“I can try to forgive,” I whisper, placing my hand on her knee.
Her hand rests over mine. “Your forgiveness will be my salvation,”
My chest aches from saying it. “I can’t forget the past, but I am starting to heal.”
“I want my baby girl back in my life. I’ll do anything. I won’t let you down again. I promise. Not like your father did.”
I pull my hand away and frown.
“H-he didn’t let me down,” I whisper.
She blinks at me, tilting her head. “Do you speak to your father still?” she asks, carefully.
“Yes.”
“I bet he’d hate you seeing me,” she mutters.
My spine snaps straight. “No,” I say firmly. “He told me to see you.”
Her eyes go wide. Her mouth drops open. “Wait, you actually speak to him regularly? I thought…”
“I’m living with him,” I say, and watch the shock ripple through her. “We reconnected recently.”
Silence swallows the room.
I set my coffee down deliberately. I’m not here to talk about Dad. Not today. “So… how’s the new cleaning company?” I ask, changing the subject.
She blinks at me. Completely blank. The same empty expression she had when she stared at Charlotte. Then she smiles again, like she’s slipping a mask back on.
“Yes. Fine. I hate cleaning, but it makes okay money.” Her mouth tightens. “Not enough.”
I lift my coffee, forcing my hands to stay steady.
I really hope Dad wasn’t right.
“Are you still part of that cult or whatever? The one you ran away with years ago.” I ask, trying to sound light, like it doesn’t bother me.
I’d always pictured her dancing around fires, singing, laughing at the world.
Something flickers in her eyes. It’s something dark. Like my mom is gone in a heartbeat. Then she laughs, and goosebumps ripple over my skin. “It wasn’t a cult, Lily. ”
“Riiiiight.” I arch a brow. “Well, it sure as hell sounded like one when you told me about it. You tried to get me to join, remember?”
That was one of moms crazier fazes. She turned up at my house, telling me about her savior. At first, I thought she was drunk. But then I realized that she wasn’t. I was only eighteen at the time, and she’d been gone for almost a year. I point-blank told her no, and by the morning, she was gone.
The next time I saw her was a few years later at my ballet. I always invited her to them, but she never came. Except that final time.
She licks her lips slowly. “I remember.”
“Oh, good,” I mutter. “They didn’t wipe your memory then.”
Nothing. Not even a smile. “The cult ended when Sasha died,” she says, voice lower.
“Shame,” I mutter without thinking.
She goes to speak, then stops herself. The pause feels deliberate. Calculated. “That part of my life is over, Lily.” Her eyes fix on mine. “I want to focus on the future.”
I nod, slowly. “We can try,” I say, because it’s all I can give her.
I don’t know where my future is going to take me. Or whether I want her in it.
“So what’s new with you?” she asks too brightly. “Art? I never knew you were so into art. Tell me everything.”
I start to relax only because her mask is back in place. Because it’s easier. Because I’m just waiting for the clock to run down until I see Drago again.
That’s all I’m thinking about.