Chapter 27
Willow
I stood in the bedroom doorway and stared at Artyom for a long time.
The warm glow from the wall lamp cut across his hard jaw and softened the edges that always looked like they could slice you open. When he slept, his lashes looked stupidly long, throwing a faint shadow under his eyes. No pressure. No icy weight in the room. Just... quiet.
I clicked the lamp off. Darkness swallowed everything but a thin spill of moonlight sneaking through the curtains, painting a narrow silver line on the floor.
I closed the door. The soft little click sounded loud as hell in a house this dead.
Downstairs, the living room lights were still on. Lily hadn't left yet.
I went down.
I was terrified to face her. What I had with Artyom had screwed her over—his fiancée.
Lily sat on the leather couch, long blond hair draped over her shoulders, makeup still perfect. When she looked up at me, she even smiled.
Her eyes didn't.
They were ice.
I dropped my gaze on instinct, like some kid caught cheating, my fingers twisting the hem of my pajama top.
"Well, look at you," she said, rising. Her stilettos clicked as she walked straight at me. "Willow, I really underestimated you. You had Artyom so wrapped around your finger he even pushed back our engagement party. That took skill."
I opened my mouth to explain, but nothing came out.
I never chased him. I'd tried to leave. I couldn't. None of it sounded like anything but excuses, even to me.
"I—"
Smack.
My head snapped to the side. Pain exploded across my left cheek, hot and sharp. My ear rang. I tasted metal.
My lip was split. I knew it.
I just stood there. I didn't hit her back. I didn't even try. Part of me thought I'd earned it.
"Why the hell did you destroy what Artyom and I had?" Her voice shook with contained rage, her nails digging into my arm like she wanted to carve her message into me. "We were getting married. You're the other woman. You know this place you're living in was supposed to be our home?"
Guilt hit like a tide and dragged me under.
She was right. I knew she existed. I knew about the engagement. And I still stayed at his side. If that didn't make me the other woman, what did?
Tears burned behind my eyes. I bit my bottom lip hard so I wouldn't break. My voice came out tiny. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."
"Sorry?" She let out a cold little laugh, released my arm, then pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her fingers like I was dirt. "What the hell does sorry do? If you actually feel bad, stay away from Artyom. What—he didn't pay you enough to walk away?"
I jerked my head up. The tears finally spilled.
I swiped at my face, messy and shaking. "I want to leave! I swear I do. But he won't let me. He keeps me in this house—there are guards at the door. I can't get out!"
The words came out raw. Humiliating. True.
I had pride. I wasn't some woman who ran around begging to be someone's side piece.
I'd been trapped here like a damn bird in a gilded cage—no freedom, no dignity. I couldn't even go to work. He'd shut it down with one sentence, like it meant nothing. He'd told me taking care of him was my job, like I'd been born to orbit him.
Lily's smile faltered. She looked me up and down for a few seconds, weighing whether I was lying.
"You really want to leave?" she asked.
I nodded so fast it hurt. Tears clung to my cheeks. "Yes. I really want to leave. If I can get out of here, I'll do anything. I swear I'll never show my face in front of Artyom again. I'll go to another city. I'll never come back."
She stared at me, thinking.
The grandfather clock ticked in the corner, each beat landing on my nerves. I held my breath, watching her like my life depended on her next expression.
Finally, she spoke. "I can help you."
I almost thought I'd misheard. My eyes went wide. "Really? You will actually help me?"
"What, you think I like you pacing around in front of him every day?
" She curled her lip, contempt back in her tone.
"You leaving is good for both of us. Tomorrow I'll come up with an excuse to drop by.
I'll take you out through the side door.
I'll handle the guards. And I'll give you some money—enough to keep you going for a while. "
Relief hit so hard I felt dizzy. I forgot my face still burned. I kept bowing at her like an idiot. "Thank you. Lily, thank you. I swear once I'm gone, I'm not coming back. I won't tell anyone you helped me."
She flicked her hand like she was done talking. "Fine. Tonight, keep your head down. Don't do anything stupid. If Artyom finds out, we are both screwed."
I nodded hard and watched her grab her purse and leave.
Her heels snapped against the marble. Each click sounded like a countdown to freedom.
That night, I didn't go back to the guest room.
I slipped into the master bedroom.
Artyom was still asleep, breathing deep and steady. Moonlight washed over his face, and for a second his features looked almost gentle. Almost human.
I dragged a chair to the side of the bed and sat there, watching him.
All night.
I remembered the first time I'd seen him in that bar, leaned back on the couch. The moment he'd looked up at me, every bit of common sense I had had gone up in flames.
Maybe that one mistake was what chained us together like this.
Tears fell silently. I didn't dare make a sound. I couldn't risk waking him.
I lifted my hand and traced the air above him—brow, sharp nose, the line of his mouth.
I didn't touch.
If I touched him, I wouldn't leave.
"Artyom," I whispered by his ear. "I'm sorry. I'm gonna go. Don't hate me. You and Lily... be good together. You'll be a good husband. A good dad."
He frowned like he'd heard me. His hand moved, groping like he was trying to catch something.
I flinched back, heart in my throat. When he didn't wake, I finally breathed again.
Near dawn, I left the master bedroom and went to the kitchen.
I remembered he liked my blueberry pancakes. I remembered he wanted his eggs sunny-side up, yolk still runny.
I tied on an apron and got to work. Butter hissed in the pan. The smell rolled through the house, warm and sweet, and for a dazed second it felt like we were normal. Like we were just some couple living an ordinary life.
When I set breakfast on the table, Artyom came downstairs.
He wore gray loungewear, hair slightly messed up. He paused when he saw the spread, then looked at me, something soft flickering in his eyes. "You made this?"
"Yeah." I kept my head down as I poured his coffee, forcing my voice steady. "I don't know what you like, so I just... made stuff."
He walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. His chin rested on the top of my head, warm breath brushing my neck. "Why are you suddenly so good?"
My throat tightened. I almost cried again.
I bit my lip, turned, and hugged his waist, pressing my face to his chest. His heartbeat thudded strong under my ear, and I soaked up the last of his warmth like I could store it.
"If you want it, I'll make it for you. Anytime."
It was true.
There just wasn't going to be an anytime.
He seemed genuinely pleased. He kissed my forehead and led me to the table.
We ate in silence. Neither of us said a word.
Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, spilling over the tabletop, over his hands, over our fingers tangled together. It was so beautiful it didn't feel real.
After breakfast, he got up to change.
I waited by the entryway.
He came out in a suit, tie straight, everything back in place. He stepped close, dipped his head, and kissed me.
It was gentle. Not like before. No hard claim, no hunger. Just soft lips against mine.
His tongue brushed the corner of my mouth—right where Lily had split it—and I hissed from the sting.
He pulled back immediately, frowning. "Your lip. What happened?"
Panic shot through me. I shook my head too fast. "Nothing. I got up for water last night and bumped into something."
His eyes darkened, suspicion flickering. In the end he only ruffled my hair. "Wait for me tonight. I need to talk."
My stomach clenched. I had no idea what he meant.
I just knew I probably wouldn't be here to hear it.
I looked up and forced a smile. "Okay. I'll wait."
He kissed my forehead again, then turned and walked out.
I stood there, watching his back disappear.
The moment I heard the car pull away, I finally broke. Tears came hard and fast, like my body had been holding them hostage all morning.
I'm sorry, Artyom. I couldn't wait for you.
I didn't waste time. I went to my room and grabbed the small suitcase I'd already packed—just a few changes of clothes and the little bit of money I'd saved over the years.
About an hour later, the doorbell rang.
Lily.
She wore casual clothes today, a hat and sunglasses. When she saw my suitcase, she gave me a look. "Come on."
I followed her like a ghost.
She led me out through the side door. The guards saw her and, sure enough, didn't stop us. One of them even greeted her politely.
My heart slammed so hard my legs felt floaty.
A black van waited out front. Lily opened the door and motioned me in. "Get in. I'll take you to the station. I already bought your ticket."
Gratitude flooded me. I told myself once I was safe, I'd thank her properly.
I climbed in and had barely sat down when the door slammed shut—hard—and the lock clicked.
I froze and turned to her. "Why'd you lock it?"
She pulled off her sunglasses. Whatever warmth she'd worn before was gone. A cold smile cut across her mouth, eyes sharp as poison. "You didn't actually think I was going to let you go, did you?"
My stomach dropped. Ice crawled up my spine. "What are you talking about?"
"What am I talking about?" She laughed. "Willow, why are you this stupid? You really think I want to help you. I just need a soft spot. Something Artyom can't ignore."
Then she kept going, voice flat and mean. "Artyom has started digging into me. I can't let him find out I have ties to the Hall family."
My whole body went cold. I stared at her, disbelief choking me. "So everything you said... it is all a lie?"
"What else would it be?" She grabbed my chin, nails biting into my skin. "You think I have some sudden burst of kindness? Here's the truth: if I have you, Artyom won't touch me."
My head rang. Everything went white.
"Why?" My voice shook. "You were his fiancée. You grew up together. How can you do this to him?"
She reached into her bag, pulled out a handkerchief soaked in ether, and clamped it over my mouth and nose.
The stench burned. I thrashed and tried to shove her away, but my strength bled out fast. The edges of my vision smeared and buckled.
In the last second before the dark took me, I had one thought.
Artyom... I'm sorry.
I've gone and made trouble for you again.