Chapter 23
Hazel
I hadn't seen Viktor since that night we ran into each other.
I could feel it—he didn't want to see me.
He'd only called Valentina an arranged marriage. Said I was the one he really loved.
But I couldn't calm down.
Would someone who loved me hide an engagement from me? Would they get another woman pregnant while I was carrying their child?
I kept thinking maybe there was some misunderstanding. Night after night, I waited in the dark for Viktor to come home and explain.
All he said was I needed to be reasonable and accept it.
Reasonable.
The word played on repeat in my head, like a dull blade sawing at my nerves.
I was completely disappointed.
But I didn't know what to do about it.
I couldn't escape this place on my own—every exit from the manor had armed guards, and seven months pregnant, I wouldn't make it far. But I couldn't convince myself to just accept being the mistress in the shadows, watching another woman take over every corner of my life as his fiancée.
Now Anya wasn't around either. She'd left in a rush.
Her grandmother had fallen critically ill, so she'd had to leave to take care of her.
Before she left, she'd kept wiping away tears, telling me to come to her with any problems, not to bottle things up.
But she was panicked enough herself.
Anya talked about her grandmother all the time. How could I pile more on her when she was already hurting?
But I did feel miserable. Lost.
Like being trapped under an airtight glass dome, the air getting thinner and thinner, watching myself suffocate.
The emotional turmoil was crushing me. I desperately needed the studio to settle my mind.
After connecting with Emily, we'd agreed to meet officially once she returned from Europe.
I'd made it the most important thing. Practiced every day.
But once Valentina showed up, I lost all motivation. Hadn't been to the studio in days.
Now it was the only place left where I could breathe. But when I reached the studio, the door stood open. I heard things being moved around, voices talking. I rushed inside. The scene made me frown.
The housekeeper Evelyn stood in the center. Three uniformed maids flanked her, along with two burly security guards. They were methodically taking paint tubes off the shelves, packing them into large wooden crates lined with foam.
My brushes, my unfinished paintings—everything was being boxed up.
"What are you doing?" I demanded.
Evelyn turned at my voice. She looked at me with that same professional expression and gave a slight bow.
"Good morning, Miss Brooks."
"I asked what you're doing." I stepped forward, pointing at the crate full of paint. "Who gave you permission to touch these things?"
I'd never cared about anything else in this manor. The expensive furniture, the priceless art, the luxury clothes and jewelry—none of it belonged to me, and I'd never felt like it did.
But this studio. These paintings.
They meant everything to me.
This was the first thing Viktor had truly put thought into for me. This was the surprise and promise I'd seen when he'd led me in here by the hand that birthday night.
This was the only evidence I had of warmth in this cold manor.
Evelyn met my eyes without backing down.
"These are Miss Rossi's orders."
Valentina?
My heart sank.
Why would she take my paintings? Why touch any of this?
"Miss Rossi reviewed the manor's purchasing records yesterday," Evelyn continued in that businesslike tone. "She's requested we remove all the art supplies, transport them to storage under the main house, and conduct a detailed inventory and registration."
I stared at Evelyn.
"Inventory?" My voice rose. "I'm using these things. I'm painting with them. If you take them away, how am I supposed to paint?"
"I'm very sorry, Miss Brooks." Evelyn bowed again. "Miss Rossi's current status is as Mr. Gromov's fiancée. In Mr. Gromov's absence, she has final authority over internal manor affairs."
I watched the maids toss my favorite brushes into the crate. It hurt to watch.
"What if I don't agree?" I stared at Evelyn. "Viktor gave these to me."
Evelyn looked back, a flash of deeply hidden sympathy in her eyes.
"Miss Brooks, please don't make this difficult for us." Evelyn's voice hardened. "If you have objections, you can take them directly to Mr. Gromov."
Find Viktor.
My lips pressed into a thin line.
Viktor wasn't even at the manor. And even if he was, I didn't dare go to him. Didn't dare hear more of those hurtful words, see that exhausted, cold look in his eyes.
I'd already lost too much. I couldn't lose what little self-respect I had left.
"Take it all, then." My voice came out eerily calm.
I stood in the center of the studio and watched them carry away everything that belonged to me.
I didn't try to stop them again. Didn't say another word. I just stood there, watching the room that had been full of color and hope slowly transform back into an empty, dust-filled storage space.
When the last security guard carried out the disassembled easel, the entire east wing fell silent again.
My last refuge was gone. I changed plans—I'd go find Margaret, talk to her. It should be her breakfast time.
I followed the spiral staircase down to the first floor, headed straight for the main dining room. But I was stopped before I could enter.
"Miss Brooks." The guard looked at me without expression. "You can't go in."
I stopped, looked up at the man towering over six feet tall.
"Why not?"
"Miss Rossi is dining inside." The guard answered. "She's specified she needs a quiet dining environment to discuss certain security arrangements between the Rossi and Gromov families. She doesn't wish to be disturbed by anyone."
"This is my mealtime too." My voice sharpened.
"Miss Rossi has made new arrangements for you.
" The guard extended his white-gloved hand, pointing toward the side hall across the corridor.
"Considering your current pregnancy, Miss Rossi feels the main dining room is too far, and the long table design isn't suitable for a pregnant woman's spine.
She's specifically instructed the housekeeper to relocate your meals to the side hall.
A table at an appropriate height has been prepared for you there. Please go eat there."
I stood outside the main dining room door, hearing the faint clink of silverware inside, Valentina's voice speaking fluid Italian on the phone.
I finally understood.
No matter how oblivious I'd been, I could see it now.
Valentina was targeting me.
I let out a bitter laugh.
"Hazel."
Margaret must have heard me. She opened the door and came forward, eyes full of concern.
"Are you all right?" she asked quietly.
"I'm fine." I forced a smile.
Margaret looked at me, wanting to say something but holding back. Finally she just sighed and patted my shoulder.
I knew Margaret felt sorry for me, but I wasn't that upset.
Valentina targeting me—maybe she had her reasons. A society girl seeing someone ordinary like me taking her place, expressing a little displeasure—that was understandable, right?
I comforted myself with that thought and turned toward the side hall.
I thought if I just endured it, everything would be fine.
But from that day on, Valentina's targeting escalated.
My meals changed to food I hated. And worst of all—Valentina reassigned Margaret.
Margaret was moved to handle physical labor in the east guest room area. Work too heavy for a woman in her sixties.
I couldn't stand it.
Margaret was the first person in this manor to show me kindness. She'd given me warmth when I was desperate, kept me company when I was lonely. I couldn't watch her suffer because of me.
I wouldn't accept it.
I wouldn't let Valentina grind me under her heel. I wouldn't let her strip away my dignity piece by piece, hurt the people around me.
I'd never meant her any harm. Never wanted to take her position. I just wanted to have my baby in peace.
Why wouldn't she leave me alone?
I worked up my courage and decided to talk to Valentina. I searched the manor, finally spotted her on the second-floor landing.
Valentina stood by the marble bannister at the top of the stairs. She wore a deep purple silk gown today, leaning back against the railing, arms crossed.
When she saw me, she broke into an exaggerated smile.
"Hi!" She waved, voice bright like greeting an old friend. "Looking for me? You seem angry."
Her four ever-present armed guards were nowhere around her. No servants in the hallway either. Even the usual security post at the bottom of the stairs was empty.
A good time to talk.
I took a deep breath, climbed the stairs, and stopped three feet away from her.
"Valentina," I spoke first, trying to keep my voice steady. "I want to talk to you."
Valentina looked at me. That tolerant smile she usually wore vanished completely. Her eyes held no pretense, just naked arrogance, contempt, and intense hostility.
So this was her true face.
"About what?" she asked coldly.
"I want to know what I did to offend you.
" I met her eyes. "From the day you entered this manor, you've been targeting me.
You took my studio, stripped away my dining privileges, sent Margaret away.
Why? I've never meant you any harm. I never wanted to compete with you for anything. We could have coexisted peacefully."
Valentina listened to my words, then let out a scoff.
"Coexist peacefully?" She repeated it like she'd heard something absurd. "Hazel, you're naive to the point of ridiculous. You think if you just back down, act like a sweet little rabbit, I'll leave you alone?"
She straightened, took a step forward.
She was already taller than me, and with her heels, she completely towered over me.
"I'm not targeting you because you offended me." Valentina's voice turned vicious. "It's because your very existence is an offense to me. You're some slum girl from the bottom, and you think you deserve to carry Viktor's child? Deserve to stand on equal footing with me? Do you?"
Her words stabbed into my heart like a knife.
"We love each other." My voice trembled. "Whether you accept it or not, Viktor and I have feelings for each other."
"Feelings?" Valentina cut me off, eyes full of mockery. "You really think because you pleased him with your body a few times, triggered his protective instincts with your pathetic, cowering act, you can establish yourself in this mafia empire? Wake up, Hazel. You're just a breeding tool."
She reached out, jabbed her finger hard into my shoulder.
"You're completely useless to his business. A burden. A weakness that could blow up any second. Between the family's survival and his little infatuation with you, you really think he'd choose you?"
My body swayed from her jabbing finger.
I wanted to argue, but I found I couldn't speak.
Because every word she said hit that most vulnerable fear deep inside me.
Yes, though I'd tried not to think about it.
Deep down, I'd always doubted this relationship.
I was afraid I really was just a tool. Afraid Viktor's love for me was just temporary novelty. Afraid that once the baby was born, I'd be exactly what Valentina said—discarded by Viktor, erased from his world.
"I know what you're thinking." Valentina looked at my pale face, lips curling into a cruel smile. "You're thinking maybe he really will abandon you. You're already starting to doubt it, aren't you?"
She leaned closer, voice turning venomous.
"Hazel, you know feelings aren't reliable.
Viktor doesn't love you as much as you think.
" Her voice hissed like a snake. "You'd better wise up.
Take the kid and leave. I'll give you money, enough for you and the child to live comfortably forever.
This is my final mercy. If you don't accept it, after the baby's born, you'll be thrown out without a cent. "
Valentina leaned close to my ear, whispering. The mockery and contempt in her words made me burn with humiliation.
"Stop looking down on me!" I shouted. "You think I'm staying here for money?"
But my voice was too loud.
Hurried footsteps came from below. I turned toward the stairs. Several servants' voices echoed from downstairs, security guards running up.
Then Valentina's low laugh followed. I looked at her, confused.
And Valentina looked right at me, showing me a chilling smile.
Then, in front of everyone.
Just as the servants and guards reached the landing, where they could clearly see both of us.
Valentina's body suddenly tipped backward.
She made no move to protect herself. Her arms flailed once in the air, as if trying to grab something.
But it all happened too fast. She caught nothing, just fell rapidly down.
I watched it all unfold right in front of me. Valentina tumbled down the stairs.