Page 81 of Vendetta Vows

An orphan without roots.

And when the thought hits, it fuckinghurts.

My throat tightens at the thought of charts and family arrangements. A pair of empty chairs where my parents should sit, and the solitary one next to them for my little brother.

Mom would have cried the moment she saw me in a wedding dress. Dad would have grumbled about the cost while secretly beaming with pride. My little brother would have tried to make fun of me. Maybe even stealing some champagne when no one was looking.

But they'll never see this. They'll never see anything again.

The guilt rushes through me. It's all my fault. If I hadn't gotten involved with Kristofer... if I'd listened when they warned me about him... if I hadn't tried to break it off...

"Aurora?" Ruslan's voice cuts through the fog, his fingers squeezing mine gently.

I blink rapidly, willing the tears not to fall. "I'm fine."

But I'm not. In this moment, sitting in this plush office with wedding plans spread before me, I'm Jamie Fields again.

The girl who got her family murdered because she made a terrible choice.

I take a deep breath, forcing myself back into Aurora.Jamie Fields is dead, I remind myself. But the grief remains, a constant shadow no matter which name I use.

"Excuse me," I whisper, but it's too late.

The tears come anyway, hot and unstoppable, pouring down my face in silent streams. I press my hands against my mouth, but can't contain the sob that tears from my chest.

I try to wipe the tears away, but more just keep coming. For the first time in seven years, I've finally been able to look back on that horrible day and grieve. To fully process what happened that night.

To not spend every waking moment hiding in plain sight, hiding from cameras, and searching every room for escape routes, terrified that Kristofer would find me.

"Julia, a moment, please?" Ruslan's voice is gentle but carries the authority of someone used to being obeyed.

"Of course." Julia nods professionally. "I'll go get some cake samples. Take your time."

Once we're alone, Ruslan turns to me and takes both my hands in his. He doesn't speak immediately, just studies my face as I try to compose myself.

"What is it,zarechka?"

His thumb brushes away a tear from my cheek. The tenderness in his touch makes it harder, not easier, to stop crying.

In Ruslan's protective presence, I finally feel safe enough to shatter, like my body knows it's okay to break.

Because someone else will keep the pieces together until I can put them back together.

"Last night..." I begin, my voice wavering. "In our game of truth and dare, when you asked for a secret I'd never told anyone. I didn't lie, but I didn't tell you the truth either."

Inside my head, a voice screams at me to shut up. To remember that Jamie Fields is dead. That the moment I tell him who I really am, this fragile protection I've found might disappear.

But something in those golden eyes tells me I can trust him.

"The secret I chose to tell you was convenient and safe." I take a shaky breath. "But it's not the secret that keeps me awake at night. It's not the reason why I feel like I'm going to throw up every time I see a camera pointed at me. It's not why I ran from that club when Sienna took my picture."

Ruslan's jaw tightens slightly, but his gaze never wavers from mine. He doesn't push, doesn't demand.

He simply holds space and waits for me to fill it.

"I can't tell you everything. Not yet. Maybe not ever," I whisper, my heart pounding so hard I'm sure he can hear it. "But I needed you to know that before I came to Los Angeles, I made a terrible mistake that got people killed."

The words hang between us, suspended in air thick with tension.

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