Page 143 of Bound By Revenge

I glance down, and the world stops.

The Flame of Mir rests in my palm, its blood-red facets glinting under the light. My mind scrambles to make sense of it. How is it here? Why is it here?

“There,” she says coldly. “We’re done now.”

She turns on her heel and heads for the door. But at the threshold, she stops, glancing over her shoulder.

“A few months ago, A.J. decided to run a game on Giuseppe Salvatore. I trust I don’t have to tell you who he is." Her voice is flat, like she’s reading from a script she’s recited a thousand times in her head. "It didn’t go well. He caught her, and since he had her, he had me. You can imagine how that went. Blackmail, threats—the usual. He made me do things, including stealing the Flame of Mir from that museum gala. He was very specific about the whole thing—his terms, his timeline, no negotiation. I thought giving him what he wanted would buy us some peace, at least for a while. But clearly, fate had other ideas.”

Her laugh is sharp and bitter, stripped of any trace of humor.

“Kat, I…” My words catch in my throat, anger and disbelief rising like a tidal wave. “What thefuck, Kat? Why am I just now hearing this? Why didn’t you come to me? When shit happens, you come tome. You don’t run. You don’t hide—youcome to me!”

Her lips tighten, but I press on. “Now that I know, here’s what’s going to happen. Giuseppe Salvatore will die screaming. Tonight, I’ll find him, and I’ll kill him myself. Even if it’s the last thing I do. McGuire can wait.”

“That right there,” she snaps, her voice trembling with fury, “is exactly why I didn’t tell you. Do you think I want more of your blood spilled? Or Dmitri's? Or even fucking Vladmir's? Do you think I want my people dead? I don’t want this life for me, for A.J., or you. You're missing the point, Nik.”

“No, I'm not,” I say, my voice breaking. “I know I failed you. I don’t deserve to even breathe the same air as you. But if you give me a chance, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I’ll never stop trying to earn your forgiveness, even if it takes forever. Please, Kat. Just give me one chance.”

She stares at me, her expression unreadable. For a moment, I think she might say yes. Her anger softens, replaced by something else—something deeper. But then she shakes her head, tears glistening in her eyes.

“No,” she whispers.

The air leaves my lungs in one painful rush. “No?”

Her voice shakes, but she stands firm. “I warned you, Nik. I told you there was no coming back from what you did today. You didn’t listen. You locked me away. You risked everything I care about. If I hadn’t escaped, A.J. would be dead. And maybe you too.”

She takes a deep breath, her shoulders trembling. “I can’t live like this. I can’t live your life. I don’t want it. I can’t do this anymore. I want peace. I want safety. I want to go to bed without wondering who’ll survive the night. And I want to be with someone I can trust.”

I step toward her, desperation clawing at my chest. “Kat, don’t say that. Don’t do this. I’ll give you anything. Anything.”

Her expression softens for a fleeting second, but then she shakes her head again. “All I want is to be alone. If you care about me, you’ll honor that. Stay out of my life. Don’t come after me. Don’t follow me. Don’t contact me. Just… let me go.”

Her words crush me. My breath hitches as I watch her turn away.

She turns and walks through the doorway. Outside the office, she pauses, her steps slowing as she glances back over her shoulder. “I hope you find peace, Nik. I really do. Instead of whatever it is you’ve been looking for all this time…”

And then she’s gone.

Chapter 52

Kat

So much for home,sweet home.

After being gone for what feels like forever, stepping back into my apartment is… weird. Surreal, even. The walls are the same, the couch hasn’t moved, and my favorite blanket is still draped over the armrest exactly where I left it. ButI’mnot the same.

Objectively, not much time has passed since I was last here. But with everything that’s happened, it feels like I’ve lived a dozen lifetimes since I plopped down on this cream-colored couch. Sitting here in the middle of the day, in my comfiest sweats, a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream in one hand and a wine glass in the other, I try to convince myself everything is fine. Normal, even.

Spoiler: it’s not.

Nik and I are done. Finished. Game over.C’est fini. And now I’m supposed to forget him, which, shockingly, is not as easy as I’d hoped.

But it’s fine. Totally fine. Everything is exactly as it should be.

So what if the idea of moving on makes me want to gag? I’ll get over it. I’ll find my happy ending—by myself or, I don’t know,with someone else. It doesn’t even matter that the mere idea makes me want to die.

Honestly, I thought storming out of the penthouse would feel better than this. Instead, days later, I feel like a deflated balloon, sitting here trying to convince myself I didn’t just make the biggest mistake of my life.

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