Chapter 21 #2
The sobs came harder now, violent convulsions that shook my entire body.
I doubled over, my face pressed to the hay-covered ground, and let the storm rage through me.
I cried until my chest ached, until my throat was raw, until I had nothing left inside me but hollow emptiness and the terrible knowledge that everything I'd ever known was gone forever.
"Let it out, Princess," a deep voice said behind me. "Let it all out."
Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me against a broad chest I would have recognised anywhere. His scent—sandalwood and something uniquely him—enveloped me, as familiar now as my own.
"James?" I whispered, my voice hoarse from screaming. "How—"
"It doesn't matter," he said, holding me tighter. "I'm here now."
I turned in his arms, burying my face against his neck as sobs wracked my body. He stroked my hair and back, murmuring soft words of comfort as he rocked me gently.
"She's gone," I managed between heaving breaths. "Alexandra's gone, and now I have to be—I can't be—"
"Shhh," he soothed, pressing his lips to my temple. "I know, Princess. I know."
I pulled back just enough to see his face in the dim light of the stable, noticing the concern in his blue eyes, the stubble that suggested he hadn't shaved in days, and the weariness etched into his features.
"You came back," I said, wondering if I was hallucinating, if grief had conjured him from my desperate need.
His hand cupped my cheek, thumb brushing away tears. "I never should have left."
Something broke open inside me at his words—not the violent torrent of grief, but a quieter, gentler feeling. Amidst everything falling apart, in the eye of this terrible storm, James was here — solid, physical, a touchstone in a world that had just shifted beneath my feet.
"They found Viktor," I whispered, needing him to know and unburden myself of at least this secret. "The news is everywhere. About our marriage."
James nodded, his expression unreadable. "I saw the reports. That's how I knew something was wrong when I couldn't reach you."
"I should have told you," I said, the words tumbling out. "About Viktor, about what happened. But I was so afraid—"
"There's more," I whispered, my voice so quiet he strained to hear it. "About Viktor. About what really happened five years ago."
His body tensed against mine, but his arms didn't loosen their protective hold.
"The scandal everyone thinks they know about—the photographs, the palace cover-up—that wasn't the actual story." My hands trembled as I spoke. "Viktor... he didn't just threaten me. He had evidence. Proof of things that could have destroyed not just me, but Alexandra, even Mother."
"What kind of evidence?" James demanded, though I could see him dreading the answer.
"Photos. Videos. Things he recorded without my knowledge during those three months we were married.
" My voice broke on the last word. "He said if I ever tried to expose what he was really doing—the money laundering, the connections to organised crime—he would release everything. Make it look like I was complicit."
The change in James was instantaneous and terrifying. His body went rigid, his eyes turning to ice, and I could feel the leashed violence radiating from him. When he spoke, his voice was soft and deadly.
"Where is this evidence now?"
"I don't know. Viktor disappeared three years ago, but the threats continued. Someone has been using his leverage against me ever since." I looked up at him with eyes full of shame and desperate hope. "That's why I couldn't tell you. That's why I can never be free of this."
"You're wrong," he said fiercely, pulling me closer. "Viktor is dead. Whoever killed him might have that evidence, but they've made a crucial mistake."
With pain radiating down my throat from my screams, I looked at James, his strong arms still wrapped around me. I whimpered, "What mistake?"
"They've threatened what's mine." The possessive words seemed to surprise him as much as they did me, but he didn't take them back. "I don't forgive. I won't forget. And I sure as hell don't let anyone hurt the people I care about."
"What will you do… James?" My eyes searched his, taking note that they had turned pitch black with rage.
James's arms tightened around me, his heartbeat steady against my ear. "You don't have to know right now," he said softly. "Right now, you just have to breathe. And I'll be right here, breathing with you."
In the quiet darkness of the stable, held safe in James's arms, I closed my eyes and did the only thing I could: I breathed. In and out. Each breath a small victory against the crushing weight of grief and responsibility.
And for the first time since hearing the news, I allowed myself to believe that somehow, someday, I might find the strength to carry what had been so unexpectedly placed on my shoulders.
Because I wasn't alone anymore, James. James had come back.
A sound from outside made us both freeze—footsteps on the gravel path leading to the stables. James moved to the stable door with military precision, his body coiled with tension.
"Someone's coming," he whispered, his hand moving instinctively toward his concealed weapon. "Stay behind me."