Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Elena
Christmas bells rang out across every corner of New York, the streets shimmering with light, the air thick with holiday sweetness. Fifth Avenue's windows blazed with twinkling displays, and Rockefeller Center's massive Christmas tree glowed against the night sky.
Couples walked hand-in-hand through the snowy streets while children rushed excitedly toward beautifully decorated shops.
The entire city was drowning in festive joy.
This should have been a night filled with warmth and love, a moment for reunions and blessings.
But my world? Nothing but cold, dead silence.
Ever since that text last night about a sudden meeting, Igor had vanished from my world.
I stared at my phone screen over and over again. The unanswered calls and ignored messages felt like they were mocking me. My brain kept replaying last night on repeat—the cold food, the wrong gift, and that disturbing nightmare.
I forced myself to push down these anxious thoughts. Igor was just busy, I told myself. His world was different from mine. He must be tied up with something important. But this self-comfort felt so pathetic in the face of his silence.
"Jensen?"
Manager Linda's voice yanked me out of my spiral. I snapped back to reality, realizing I was standing in front of the employee lockers, clutching my phone.
"Oh, Linda, sorry. I spaced out." I quickly shoved my phone back in my pocket.
"You okay, Elena? You look terrible. Like you didn't sleep all night." Linda's eyes held genuine concern. She was a good boss—after learning I was working multiple jobs to pay off debt, she'd been especially kind to me.
"I'm fine, really." I forced a weak smile.
She nodded without pushing. "Listen, I've got an urgent job. Didn't want to bother you on Christmas Eve, but I thought you might need it."
"What kind of job?" Work would be a perfect distraction.
"Big client's throwing a party at the Royal Hotel on Long Island. They need a case of top-shelf Dom Pérignon delivered last minute." Linda handed me a slip with the address. "Client wants it delivered directly to the ballroom. The tip will be generous. You in?"
"Yes, absolutely!" I jumped at the chance. "Thanks, Linda. Really."
I needed the money.
"Don't mention it, kid. Fix your makeup—this is a big event!" She patted my shoulder.
After the manager left, I quickly touched up my makeup in the mirror. Since it was Christmas, I'd worn the swan diamond necklace Igor had given me.
Susan walked in just then and whistled at my necklace.
"Damn, Elena! Finally decided to wear that precious necklace of yours?" She approached, teasing. "I thought you were going to keep it locked away forever."
I unconsciously touched the cold diamond. It was too expensive—I only wore it on special occasions.
"Well, it is Christmas." My smile relaxed a bit.
"Seriously, Elena," Susan leaned closer, lowering her voice, "what's the deal with your mystery boyfriend?
Every time he picks you up, it's a different luxury car.
And the gifts he gives you? Stuff we could never afford in a lifetime.
He's obviously loaded. Maybe you'll even run into him at this party!
I heard all the Russian elite in New York will be there tonight! "
Susan's words cut into my raw nerves. I couldn't believe Igor would disappear just to attend some party.
"Maybe." I deflected, my mind a tangled mess.
"What's wrong? You seem totally out of it." Susan picked up on my distress. "Your boyfriend still hasn't contacted you?"
"No." My voice was hoarse. "Not a word. Susan, I feel like I'm losing my mind."
"Hey, don't do this to yourself." She wrapped an arm around my shoulders, trying to comfort me. "God, it's Christmas. A guy like him probably got dragged to some boring family gathering. You know how it is—rich people have a million rules."
"But he could at least text me, right?" My hurt finally spilled over. "Just say 'I'm busy.' Is that so hard? It's been twenty-four hours. This isn't normal."
"Okay, that is pretty shitty." Susan frowned. "But right now, the important thing is getting this delivery done. You can look around, take your mind off that asshole."
"I guess that's all I can do." I took a deep breath, swallowing all my emotions.
The car rolled smoothly toward Long Island.
Frost clouded the windows, blurring the rapidly passing snowy landscape and blocking out the city's noise.
I leaned against the cold glass, my mind a jumbled mess.
I replayed every moment we'd shared, trying to find some clue in those sweet details that would explain his sudden disappearance.
But I found nothing. Every date, every kiss, every time we made love—it had all felt so real. I could still clearly remember the tenderness when he touched my hair, the power when he entered my body.
Had it all been in my head? Lost in my spiraling thoughts, the car quickly reached its destination.
The Royal Hotel's luxury far exceeded my imagination. The car stopped at the red-carpeted main entrance, and uniformed doormen opened my door. I pushed the gold-plated champagne cart, following a hostess through the opulent lobby.
The ballroom was alive with energy. Expensive perfume hung in the air, crystal chandeliers blazed overhead, everyone dressed to perfection with practiced smiles. Flowing strings, the delicate clink of champagne glasses, laughter and conversation wove together into high society's symphony.
Just as I was pushing the cart through the crowd, the ballroom lights suddenly dimmed. A spotlight hit the small stage ahead. A distinguished-looking middle-aged man walked up and took the microphone.
"Friends, family," his voice boomed with a heavy Russian accent, "thank you all for joining us on this beautiful snowy evening. To share this most important moment in my daughter's life with all of you is my greatest honor. I am Alexander Ivanov."
The crowd quieted, all eyes focused on the stage.
"Now," the man called Alexander broke into a proud smile, raising his glass toward somewhere in the crowd, "please allow me to offer my most sincere blessings to my beautiful daughter, Natasha, and the exceptional young man who will soon be my son—Mr. Igor Vorontsov!"
Igor... Vorontsov. Igor? The name hit me like a bullet through the heart. I felt all the blood drain from my body in an instant, the world spinning before my eyes.
I turned stiffly, following everyone's gaze. There, in the center of the crowd not far away, I saw him.
He wore an expensive tuxedo I'd never seen before, his hair perfectly styled, handsome and composed like royalty.
Beside him stood a beautiful woman in a black mermaid evening gown, her hand intimately linked through his arm.
Together they raised their glasses, smiling at the man on stage, at the surrounding guests.
I heard the guests' chatter washing over me like a tide.
"They're perfect for each other. I heard they got engaged six months ago."
"Right, the Vorontsov and Ivanov alliance—they'll monopolize the entire East Coast underground."
"Natasha's so lucky to marry a man like Igor."
"Igor's pretty fortunate, too. Natasha's such a beautiful woman..."
Six months ago...
So when we met, he was already engaged. These six months of sweetness, six months of passion—it had all been a joke. I finally understood. My nightmare from last night had come true. I felt my soul being ripped from my body.
And the cart in my hands careened out of control.
"CRASH!"
Champagne bottles tumbled from the cart, shattering against the marble floor. Golden liquid and glass shards scattered everywhere.
The entire world seemed to freeze. Conversations stopped. A hundred pairs of eyes stabbed toward me, the clumsy intruder. Including Igor's. His gaze cut through the crowd and landed on me. Those eyes that had once been full of tenderness now held only panicked surprise and a hint of... annoyance.
My tears finally broke free. I turned and ran.
"Elena!"
I heard him call my name behind me, the sound coming from another world. I didn't care about anything anymore. I just had to escape. Escape this gilded cage, this cruel, brutal lie.
In the hotel's snowy garden, Igor caught up with me.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" He grabbed my wrist, his grip almost crushing my bones.
"What am I doing?" I wrenched free and screamed at him. "I should be asking you that, Igor! Or should I call you Mr. Igor Vorontsov? What the hell is going on!"
My heart was shredded, and he didn't even offer an explanation or apology—just his condescending interrogation.
"You shouldn't be here." He looked at me, brows furrowed, like I was some huge problem.
"I shouldn't be here?" I laughed bitterly, my lungs feeling like they'd explode. "I called you so many times, sent so many messages! I waited like an idiot for your reply, and you? You're here having your engagement party!"
"It's not what you think." His voice was full of frustration.
"Then what is it? The man I've loved for six months, the man I gave everything to, is here having an engagement party with another woman, and you're telling me it's not what I think?"
He glanced nervously toward the ballroom, lowering his voice. "It's complicated."
"Complicated? I don't see anything complicated about it!" I choked through the agony in my chest. "You have a perfect fiancée from the right family, and me? What am I to you? Just your entertainment when you're bored? Just some mistress you keep in the slums, someone you're ashamed of?"
"Don't talk about yourself like that, Elena." His tone held a pleading note.
I wiped roughly at my endless tears, staring at him in silence.
"Listen, Elena." He gripped my shoulders. "I'll take care of you. I've got an apartment ready for you on the Upper East Side, plus a trust fund. Enough to keep you comfortable for life. We... we can keep seeing each other like before."
His words were poison. I stopped crying from pure shock. I stared up at him in disbelief. Money? An apartment? What did he think he was doing? Paying off some gold-digging mistress having a tantrum?
"You asshole! I don't want any of that shit." My voice was shaking. "So this is how you solve problems?"
"It's the most practical solution." He looked at me like I was an unreasonable child.
"Yeah, practical for you!" I laughed through my tears. "You get to marry your rich princess and still come to me for variety on the side, right?"
"Elena, don't push me." Igor's eyes went cold.
"Push you?" I stared at this handsome but cruelly unfamiliar face, my heart dead. "No. I won't push you anymore. I won't be in your way anymore."
I reached up and tore the diamond necklace from my throat. The diamond's edges scraped my skin, leaving a burning pain.
"Take it back!" I hurled the necklace at his chest. "We're done."
He caught it reflexively.
"The man I loved," I looked into his shocked eyes, using the last of my strength to speak each word clearly, "he died tonight."
I turned and walked away. I could feel his gaze following me, but I didn't look back. I heard footsteps behind me, voices, commotion from the guests. But none of it mattered to me anymore. My world had completely collapsed on this Christmas night.