Page 37 of Vendetta Crown

I flinch at his words. The thought of dismissing Aurora's feelings like that feels worse than questioning my own worth.

"She chose you," Artyom continues, more gently now. "Not just once, but every day since. Even knowing what this world is. Don't insult her choice by deciding you're not worthy of it."

Artyom's words hit their mark, like they always do. Determination surges through me like a current, washing away the doubts that have been drowning me.

"Thank you." My voice comes out rough. "For saying what needed to be said."

Artyom gives a small nod. "For what it's worth, using the documentary is strategically sound." He straightens his jacket, returning to business. "We don't know how Kristofer will behave on the board, but we know how Semyon will. He hates uncertainty."

"And Kristofer becoming a liability would create plenty of that."

"Exactly." Artyom's eyes gleam with the confidence I've always admired in him. "The moment headlines start linking Semyon's new ally to a brutal family murder, Kristofer transforms from partner to problem overnight."

I run my thumb over the tattoo on my hand, the small bird with broken wings that I got with Leslie. For the first time in years, touching it doesn't feel like reopening a wound.

"The shipments?—"

"I can handle it." He cuts me off firmly. "That's why you made meavtoritet, isn't it? So you could trust someone to handle things while you focus on things that matter?"

I look out the window toward the garden where Aurora sits with Vera and Hannah. Even though I can't see her through the hedges, I imagine sunlight threading through her hair. Even from here, I can feel the strength in how she holds herself despite everything she's endured.

She survived seven years before she found me.

She negotiated with Potyomkin when she thought I was dead.

She's ready to face her monster on camera to protect us all.

"You're right." I nod to Artyom. "Thank you, Artyom."

As I head for the door, I feel lighter than I have in days.

10

AURORA

TWO WEEKS LATER

I stare at my reflection,turning slightly to examine the pattern of bruises marking my body like a grotesque canvas.

Two weeks haven't done much to erase Kristofer's handiwork.

If anything, the sickly yellow-green edges bleeding into purple make them look worse now than when they were fresh.

"It's just photos," I whisper to myself, trying to quell the churning in my stomach. "Just photos for the documentary."

But my hands still shake as I button my blouse, leaving the top three undone to reveal the bite mark on my collarbone. The photographer will need to see it all.

"You okay in there?" Hannah's voice drifts through the bathroom door. "The photographer will be here in thirty minutes."

I open the door to find her standing in the doorframe, concern etched across her face. The cut on her cheek has healed better than my bruises, becoming just a thin pink line.

"I feel like I'm going to throw up." I press a hand to my stomach.

Hannah steps forward, placing her hands gently on my shoulders. "Hey. Look at me."

I meet her eyes reluctantly.

"You don't have to do this today if you're not ready."

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