Chapter Forty-five #2

Caitlin stayed quiet for a moment, studying me. “You’ve barely slept since we started this.”

“That’s not relevant.”

“Inna, you’re acting like the world ends if we don’t post a video today.” She sounded concerned instead, which somehow made it worse.

My chest tightened painfully. She wasn’t wrong, and that was the problem.

I couldn’t explain why it felt like the world would collapse over something as small as a delayed video without explaining everything underneath it.

The fear that things could disappear overnight.

The knowledge that security was never permanent, no matter how comfortable life looked from the outside.

“This matters,” I said. “I need this to work.”

She got up from the chair and walked toward me. “You’ve been different since New York. Something happened.” Her voice softened. “You can talk to me.”

“Trying to make something work doesn’t mean I’m different.” I stepped back before she could come any closer. “Send me the video once he sends it.”

I turned and walked out before she asked more questions.

I went to the beach to get away from everyone because, apparently, I was on edge around everyone. Women could focus. It didn’t automatically mean they were falling apart.

I sat down on the cold sand and pulled up Instagram on my phone, burying myself in reels about fashion marketing and brand launches. I watched all of it while the sound of waves rolled steadily onto the shore.

Footsteps approached from behind. I pulled my attention away from the screen and turned. It was Dmitri.

I stood and brushed the sand from my clothes before it turned into a moment. Sitting on the beach with him the way I did last time was not a scene I intended to recreate.

I turned toward the water instead, and the sunset caught me before I could think of leaving.

The view was unreasonable. It stopped thoughts mid-motion, whether you wanted it to or not. The orange light stretched across the water while the horizon held onto the last thin line of daylight. I stood there, letting the view settle over me.

I forgot Dmitri was even behind me until his arms wrapped around me. My body reacted, a small involuntary shift running through me before I straightened again.

“I forgot Cole asked me to help him with something.” I tried stepping forward, but his arms tightened and held me where I was.

His body behind mine felt like protection.

It was the kind one could lean into and trust to stay, which was the problem with Dmitri.

He felt permanent in a way that made no sense.

My mother once felt permanent too, until she disappeared.

My father felt the same until the night he never came home.

Every person who ever made me feel protected eventually left.

It was like life followed the same pattern repeatedly until you stopped expecting anything else.

“How was your day?” His lips brushed against my forehead.

“Good,” I answered. Right then, my phone buzzed in my hand. I looked down at the screen. Caitlin had sent the video clip. Excitement rushed into me. “I have to go. There’s something I need to do.”

I slipped out of his arms and started walking away, already opening the video before I reached the path. The clip played, moving over the fabric, the stitching, and the details before revealing the dress on the mannequin.

I stopped walking and smiled. The fabric fell exactly the way good fabric was supposed to fall when someone who truly understood it worked with it. It was soft where softness was needed and structured where the design demanded shape. It was beautiful.

Caitlin designed this. It was the dress I would stop to look at in a shop even if I had no intention of buying anything.

I stared at the screen for a long moment before rushing towards the mansion. I wanted this to work so badly for someone who actually deserved it.

I hurried toward the guest wing to get to Caitlin’s room. Before I reached the door, Akim’s voice stopped me.

“Watch who you call. It’s my job to protect you. If you don’t want that, say so. I’m doing you a favor here, and I’m busy.” His tone snapped through the room.

“Then tell me who I’m supposed to call,” Caitlin said, sounding equally frustrated. “Since apparently I’m meant to know instinctively who’s dangerous.”

“Don’t call anyone,” Akim said.

The door opened after, and Akim stepped out. He stopped when he saw me standing outside. He dipped his head once in acknowledgment before walking past me down the hallway.

I watched him leave, then stepped inside.

Caitlin stood near the window with her arms crossed on her chest. She turned when she heard me enter.

“I got the video.” I sat down on the sofa and pulled the clip back up. “It’s twelve minutes long, which is too long for one post. We can split it into three parts and upload them separately.” I glanced at her. “What do you think?”

“Okay.” She came over and sat beside me, but the irritation was still sitting visibly in her jaw. “Who does Akim think he is? He’s protecting me. I understand that. But what does calling an old friend have to do with my safety? This is someone who didn’t even know Ivan existed.”

I kept my attention on the screen, scrolling through the footage while identifying clean-cut points.

“Does catching up with an old friend suddenly mean a security threat?” Caitlin continued. “How did he even know who I was calling? Is he tracking my phone?”

I found the first cut section and paused the video there, noting the timestamp.

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