Page 17 of Porcelain Vows

The simple statement hits me with unexpected force.

Gone.

“Gone?” I repeat the word that’s ringing in my head.

“Yes,zaychik.” He puts a hand on my cheek, and I find myself pressing my face into his palm. “Some time ago.”

My parents are gone. Tears spring to my eyes as his words sink in. I have no memory of their deaths, no recollection of grieving them, yet the pain feels fresh and raw. I’m mourning people I can’t even remember.

“And who are you?” I finally ask, clearing my throat when my voice cracks. “To me, I mean.”

The question hangs between us, loaded with implications it seems neither of us fully understands. He meets my gaze, his dark eyes revealing nothing.

“Someone who wants to help you,” he says after a pause.

It’s not really an answer, yet something about it rings true. I sense there’s more— much more— but I don’t have the energy to press further. My head is beginning to throb again, and the emotional weight of everything I’ve learned is exhausting.

Aleksei seems to notice my fatigue. “What do you need right now?” he asks, his voice gentler than before. The hardness that usually defines his features softens just slightly, something almost tender beneath his guarded exterior.

He’s really quite beautiful, in a brutal kind of way.

I consider for a moment. What I need is my memory back, but that’s not something he can give me. The gaps in my mind feel like physical wounds, raw, fresh, and painful.

“I think I could use a long soak in the bath,” I say instead, running my fingers through my tangled hair. My body aches in places I didn’t know could hurt, and even though I’ve showered since I got here, it feels like the scent of the hospital is still clinging to me.

He nods, something flickering in his eyes— relief, perhaps, at the change of subject. Or something else entirely. His dark gaze lingers on me for a beat too long.

“Okay, wait for me.” His deep voice fills the space between us, and I notice how his hands flex briefly at his sides, as if he’s restraining himself from reaching out to me.

I want him to touch me…

I blink in surprise at wayward thought. I can’t understand how I could want him when I find him so unnerving.

As he rises to arrange my bath, I remain on the sofa, trying to reconcile the fragments I’ve gathered.

My parents are dead. I have a brother named Nick whose whereabouts are unknown. I was engaged to someone named Gianni, who apparently kidnapped me and tried to… kill me? And Aleksei— this intimidating, attentive man who watches me with such intensity— is… what is he? My protector? My lover?

The father of my child.

He’s keeping things from me— that much is clear. But whether it’s to protect me or himself, I can’t tell. All I know is that despite my confusion and wariness, there’s something about him that draws me in with an unnerving force. A pull that feels both dangerous and inevitable.

As I watch him hovering for a moment, I rest my hand on my swollen belly, taking comfort in the one relationship that still makes sense to me. Whatever else I’ve forgotten, this connection remains intact— this love for the child growing inside me.

My daughter.

Ourdaughter.

The rest will have to come back piece by piece, like assembling a puzzle in the dark. For now, I’ll have to trust the one person who seems to hold all the pieces.

Even if I’m not entirely sure I should.

Chapter Eight

Aleksei

A sudden, intense wave of need washes over me at Stella’s words.

The thought of her naked body, slick with water, her pregnant belly swollen with my child— it hits me with unexpected force. My pupils dilate and my breathing shifts subtly, betraying the surge within me.

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