He met my eyes, steady and professional, and offered a small, reassuring nod. “Ma’am, Giovanni gave me strict instructions not to tell Mr. Volkov about the pregnancy. Your secret is safe.”
Relief crashed through me, my hands pressing against my chest as I exhaled sharply, the tension clawing its way out of my shoulders.
The doctor tapped a few notes into his iPad, then gave me a brief, final nod before leaving, shutting the sterile room door behind him.
I was alone again.
My eyes swept the empty space—no purse, no phone, no belongings. I’d have to navigate back to Dmitri’s mansion, that gilded cage I’d come to call home, a word that tasted like ash on my tongue.
I rose slowly, my legs wobbling beneath me, every step a reminder of the weakness still coursing through my body.
The hospital corridors stretched ahead.
As I approached the exit, Giovanni appeared, limping but steady, his scarred face drawn with exhaustion.
Rage coiled in my chest—I despised him—nearly as much as I despised Dmitri—for following orders without question, for turning the key that sealed me inside that suffocating darkness.
I walked faster, forcing my posture rigid, pretending he was nothing but a shadow.
He fell into step beside me, quiet, until we reached the hospital’s glass doors. “I’ll drive you home,” he said, voice cautious.
I froze, fists tightening at my sides.
My instinct screamed at me to refuse, to vanish, to never allow him—or Dmitri—to see me like this again. But the blackSUV waiting outside—sleek, familiar, and unmistakably his—made the choice for me.
“I’m... glad you’re awake,” Giovanni said softly, almost like an apology, though the words sounded hollow. “Didn’t think I’d get the chance to say that to you again.”
I didn’t respond. I only let my eyes scan the street, the cold night pressing in, and felt the weight of the cage I hadn’t asked to return to settle around me once more.
I slide into the passenger seat, the leather cool against my skin.
Giovanni climbed in behind the wheel, starting the engine with quiet efficiency.
The silence between us was heavy.
Lake Como’s streets blurred past.
My mind churned, tangled in disbelief and suspicion.
Dmitri had let me go—willingly. Tomorrow, I’d be on a flight to New York, to my family. Freedom, at last.
The very thing I’d been clawing toward for months. And yet... it didn’t feel like victory. It felt like a move. A calculated concession.
But I knew better. Dmitri never lost control; he only pretended to. I was the pawn he’d advanced to bait the enemy, a disposable piece in a game I never agreed to play.
Back at the mansion, my steps felt mechanical, almost foreign, as I ascended the grand staircase to my room.
Giovanni followed silently, but I ignored him, brushing past the shadow of his presence.
I collapsed onto the bed, silk sheets cool against my fevered skin.
My body ached in every joint, muscles trembling from the strain of the last five days.
A faint buzz drew my attention—my burner phone, hidden in the nightstand, a lifeline from Alexei.
My hands shook as I picked it up, relief and exhaustion warring across my features. “Hey...” I murmured, voice hoarse.
“Hi,” Alexei’s voice came warm, a lifeline in the chaos of my world.