Chapter 23 – Violet
I walk back to the balcony, the cold metal of the railing grounding me as I stare out into the trees. The evening is quiet, but inside me, everything screams.
I hear him before I see him—soft footsteps, the familiar weight of his presence beside me. Kaz doesn’t say anything at first. He just stands there, a few feet away, like he’s afraid to come closer.
Finally, he speaks. “What does this all mean, Violet?”
I turn to face him slowly, heart pounding. “It means I can’t trust you anymore.”
His face falls, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. If I do, I’ll lose the courage to say it all.
“You keep asking me what’s wrong like you don’t already know,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
“And then when I do ask you something real, when I need the truth, you either lie or shut down. You keep me locked in the dark and call it protection, Kaz. But I’m not stupid. I’m not fragile. I’m just tired.”
His jaw clenches, eyes flickering, but he doesn’t speak. So I keep going.
“I feel like a stranger in my own life. Like I’ve been shoved into this world I didn’t choose, forced to trust people who lie to my face, who use me, who watch me. And you….”
I inhale sharply. “You keep tugging my strings like I’m a puppet. One minute, I’m yours. The next, I’m your prisoner. And the worst part? I don’t even know what you want from me anymore.”
He opens his mouth, like he wants to argue—but something shifts in his eyes.
He doesn’t speak. Because he knows I’m right. Again. His silence is deafening.
I cross my arms, the cool air biting at my skin, but I don’t care. My heart is pounding, my voice trembling with all the weight I’ve carried for too long.
“I don’t trust you,” I whisper.
Kaz stiffens beside me.
“What if you and Maxim are just trying to pin this on Arina?” I ask. “They were always kind to me—even before you gave a damn. Before you decided I was yours to keep.”
His jaw tightens. “Violet—”
“You made them disappear,” I cut in sharply. “Didn’t you? You made Arina disappear, and now you’re calling them the traitor because it’s convenient. Because it lets you keep your secrets. You eliminated the only person who tried to help me.”
I know I’m being cruel. Deliberately hurtful. But it’s the only armor I have left.
Kaz doesn’t even flinch. He just looks at me for a long, quiet second. “You’re not thinking straight.”
“No,” I snap. “I’m finally thinking clearly. You twist everything until I don’t know what’s real. Until I start doubting myself.”
The space between us is thick with tension.
He exhales slowly, like he’s holding himself back. “I don’t owe you justification, Violet. Only protection.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Protection? That’s not love, Kaz. That’s a prison. You cage me with good intentions and then act like I should be grateful.”
Something dark flashes in his eyes. “You think love is freedom?”
“I think love is truth,” I say. “And you’ve given me none.”
He laughs—sharp, humorless. “So if I let you go, would that prove my love to you?”
His voice is quiet. Almost broken. And for the first time, he looks like he doesn’t know what to do with me.
“Give me an answer, solnyshko. Is that what you want?”
I nod once, my throat tight. “Yes,” I whisper. “If you don’t let me go…I’ll believe you’re just another monster. One who cages what he claims to love.”
Kaz goes still.
The air between us is sharp. Cold. My heart hammers, waiting for the explosion, the denial, the violent refusal that always comes with men like him.
But instead—
“Okay,” he says.
My breath catches.
“What?” I blink, sure I misheard him.
His eyes are dull, tired in a way that unsettles me more than rage ever could. “You can go,” he says. “If that’s what it takes for you to believe I’m not a monster…then go. I’ll arrange everything. I’ll send you home.”
I just stare at him, stunned. No threats. No manipulations. Just…surrender.
“Good.” The words hollow something inside me. And at that moment, I don’t know if I’m relieved…or breaking.
Because I never expected him to let me go. And now that he has—I don’t know what to do with the pieces.
“Pack your things,” he says. “I’ll get Maxim to take you home.”
He walks to the door. His steps are heavy, slow, like his body is resisting every movement. He opens it and speaks without turning. “Maxim,” he says, voice rough. “Get ready to escort Violet home.”
I even flinch at the word—home. It sounds hollow now.
Kaz steps outside the bedroom door and locks the door behind him, leaving me alone.
“Home?” I hear Maxim hiss. They’re both still standing just outside the room, and I can hear them clear as day.
“What are you doing?” Maxim asks, his tone low but tense. “Kaz, this isn’t safe. You know that.”
“She’ll be fine,” Kaz says. “Arina’s been sent away. There’s no threat. If she wants to go, I won’t stop her.”
I freeze for a second, a sick feeling tightening in my chest. He really meant it.
I pack only the things that are mine. My clothes.
My toiletries. Nothing more. All the expensive things he bought me—the silk robes, the designer shoes, the glittering jewelry I never asked for—I leave them behind.
Every one of them feels like a chain disguised as a gift. I won’t carry any of it with me.
When I zip the bag shut, it feels final. A part of me expected him to argue, to fight me on it—to throw a fit and lock every damn door like he always does when he’s scared of losing control. But he didn’t. He said nothing. And that silence felt louder than any outburst ever could.
“Why are you doing this?” I hear Maxim asks. “Did you two have a fight?”
“No.” Kaz’s voice is quiet. “She thinks I’m a monster,” I say quietly. “And maybe I am.”
Maxim doesn’t respond. But his silence is louder than anything he could say.
“I’ve kept her locked up in this world—mine,” I continue. “I’ve killed for her. Lied to her. Hidden things. She wants to go because she believes she’ll be safer without me. Let her see what the outside world looks like without me.”
I take one last look around the room that’s held too much of me—my fear, my confusion, my reluctant desire—and then I walk to the door.
Kaz and Maxim step aside as I emerge. Kaz doesn’t meet my eyes. He looks like a man unraveling and trying to pretend he’s not. I walk past him, but before I leave completely, I stop at the threshold and turn to him, my chin high, my voice cold.
“I was living just fine before you,” I say. “And I can live just fine after.”
He flinches. Just a little. But I see it. I start to walk away, but I don’t make it far before I feel him. His hand curls around my arm, stopping me, pulling me gently but firmly until I’m facing him again. His other hand cups the back of my neck, his thumb brushing the edge of my jaw.
“You can run from me now, Violet,” he says, voice low and wrecked, “but I won’t let you run far.”
My breath catches. His eyes burn into mine—fierce, broken, desperate.
“Because I love you,” he says. “And I love our baby. And no matter how far you go, I will always find you.”
His lips press to my forehead, the kiss gentle. Reverent.
Then he lets me go.
He loves me? The shock of his confession propels me forward and releases adrenaline into my blood long after I’ve left his presence. Maxim doesn’t say a word as he leads me down to the garage. I follow, my body numb, my mind looping one sentence over and over.
I love you. And I love our baby. And no matter how far you go, I will always find you.
It circles in my chest like a dying echo, each repetition hitting a different nerve. The car door opens. I slide in. Still, no words.
The drive to my apartment is quiet. The city lights blur past the window—just like they did that night. Only this time, I’m not being taken. I’m being returned.
Like an object.
Like something borrowed, broken, and sent back.
We pull up outside my old building. I barely recognize it, but it recognizes me. Maxim shifts the car into park. “I’ll walk you up,” he says, voice clipped.
I don’t argue. I’m too tired to. Too hollow.
We cross the short walkway, and I crouch by the mat out of habit, fingertips lifting the corner. The key’s still there. Exactly where Noelle and I always kept it. My throat tightens.
This was our safety. Our routine. Our normal.
It still exists. And I can’t believe Kaz let me walk back to it. Without a fight. I straighten up and fit the key into the lock, but Maxim stops me with a hand on my shoulder.
“Wait out here.”
He moves past me and disappears inside.
I don’t say anything. I just stand on the porch, breathing in the stale air of memory, trying to feel something like relief. All I feel is the emptiness Kaz left behind.
After a few minutes, Maxim returns, gives me a small nod. “You’re clear. You can go in.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, barely looking at him.
He lingers for a second, then steps back.
“Goodbye, Violet.”
I glance at him. His face is unreadable, but there’s something almost…sad in his eyes. He offers a faint smile, turns, and walks back to the car. The engine starts. He drives off without looking back. And just like that, I’m alone.
Back in the life I had before Kaz.
Only now I’m not the same girl I was.
And I don’t know if this life still knows what to do with me.
I step into the apartment, and the silence is jarring. Noelle isn’t home.
“Noelle?” I call out, locking the door behind me.
No answer. I walk down the hallway, my fingers trailing along the familiar walls, still covered in the little Polaroids we used to take of each other. A part of me aches. I didn’t realize how much I missed this until now.
When I reach Noelle’s door, I try to push it open—but it doesn’t budge.
It’s locked.
I frown. Noelle never locks her door.
A strange, sudden unease prickles across my skin. I try the knob again. Still locked. I don’t have my phone, so I can’t call. I’ll have to get a new one tomorrow.
I head to the kitchen. My throat’s dry and my chest is still heavy from everything that’s happened, from everything Kaz said. I open the fridge and lean in for the water jug, eyes scanning the half-empty shelves.
And that’s when I hear a bang. It’s explosive. It shakes the walls.
I jerk upright, slamming the fridge door shut—and the sound that follows is worse. The front door detonates, a fiery burst of wood and smoke sending pieces flying in every direction.
“What the—!”
I don’t even get to scream. Masked men pour into the apartment, guns drawn, dressed in black, their footsteps thundering against the hardwood.
I stumble backward, heart racing, adrenaline flooding my veins. I try to run, but something—someone—grabs me from behind. A sharp crack against the side of my skull sends stars exploding across my vision.
The world spins violently. And then—darkness.