Page 164 of Porcelain Lies

He’ll handle it.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek lightly. “You don’t need to worry about this anymore. Focus on taking care of yourself and the baby.”

I nod slowly, the tension in my shoulders easing just a bit. “Thank you.”

He holds my gaze for a moment longer before stepping back. “Get some rest. I’ll check on you tomorrow.”

As he turns to leave, I feel a pang of something — loneliness, perhaps? “Aleksei?” I say impulsively.

He pauses at the doorway. “Yes?”

My mouth opens, then closes. Whatever I was going to say lodges in my throat, heavy and unspoken. “Nothing,” I whisper.

The corner of his lip quirks up, just barely. “Good night,zaychik.”

When the door clicks shut behind him, I sink onto the edge of the bed. The room feels emptier now, the shadows lengthening as evening settles in. I should feel reassured, but unease still coils in my stomach. Is he really going to fix this? How? And at what cost? As much as I despise my ex-fiancé, I don’t want Aleksei to hurt him.

The night falls, but sleep eludes me.

I lie awake in my bed, the ceiling shadowed and unfamiliar. The more I think about it, the more entangled I feel in Aleksei’s world. Dependence wasn’t something I ever wanted, yet here I am, relying on a Bratva boss to solve my problems.

What if Gianni doesn’t back down? He’s not the type to simply walk away, especially when his pride is at stake. The thought of potential retaliation gnaws at me.

As the hours drag on, exhaustion eventually pulls me under. But rest is fleeting.

I’m back in our old house, the scent of my mother’s cooking wafting through the air. Laughter echoes from the dining room where my father sits, his smile warm and genuine. But the scene shifts abruptly. The lights flicker, and shadows creep in. Men with obscured faces storm in, a gunshot rings out, and my father’s body crumples to the floor. A police officerappears, his face twisted into a cruel sneer.“You will never know how he died,”he says.

I try to scream, but no sound comes out. My feet are rooted to the spot as I watch the scene unfold again and again.

I jolt awake, a strangled cry escaping my lips. My heart races, sweat clinging to my skin. The darkness of the room presses in, and for a moment, I can’t distinguish reality from the nightmare.

Curling into a ball, I focus on my breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Slowly, the terror subsides. But the ache remains — a hollow pit of grief and unanswered questions.

I glance toward the empty side of the bed. There’s no one here to offer comfort, to chase away the shadows. I’m alone.

But maybe I don’t have to be.

As the early morning light filters through the curtains, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and tiptoe to the dresser. Hidden beneath a stack of clothes is my secret phone.

I pull it out and stare at the screen, my mind racing.

“It’s time, Stella,”Says Boyana.“You’ve been procrastinating this for days.”

I know Boyana’s right, but I needed to gather the strength for this phone call. And I’m still not sure I’m ready to find out the truth about my father’s death.

“Come on, sis, don’t be such a coward,”Boyana’s voice urges.

I dial Hannah’s number before I could think better of it, my fingers trembling slightly. It rings twice before her familiar voice answers.

“Hello?”

“Hannah, it’s me,” I whisper, glancing toward the closed door as if expecting someone to barge in.

“Stels? Oh my God, are you okay? What time is it?” Concern laces her tone.

“I’m fine, Han, don’t worry,” I reply. “But I need your help.”

“Anything. Just tell me what’s going on.”

---