Page 81 of Carved in Ruin

“I love you, Mommy,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. For everything. Thank you for… for everything. I hope to be just like you, Mommy.”

The dirt is cool beneath my lips as I press a kiss to it. When I stand, Rafael is there immediately, his arm sliding possessively around my waist like he’s afraid I might disappear into the ground with her.

“She was an amazing mother,” Layla chokes out.

“The best,” I agree. “May her soul finally rest in peace, knowing he’s gone.”

We stand in silence as the first drops of rain begin to fall. The storm breaks slowly at first, but soon the rain comes harder. It’s our cue to leave. Rafael shrugs off his jacket, draping it over my head to shield me.

“Let’s go,” he murmurs.

The black SUV waits for us at the edge of the cemetery. Layla moves to climb in, but Anatoly grabs her arm, pulling her back with a dark look.

“We need to talk,” he orders, leaving no room for argument.

Layla sighs, her reluctance clear, but she doesn’t fight him. Ever since Rafael approved of the possibility of their relationship, Anatoly has been pursuing her like crazy. Rafael doesn’t let me linger. His hand presses firmly against the small of my back, guiding me into the SUV before I can even think about eavesdropping.

“Let them sort it out,” he says, sliding in after me. The door shuts with a solid thud, sealing us in.

I don’t miss the way his hand immediately finds my thigh, his fingers curling over the fabric of my dress. It’s like he needs the contact, like he needs to remind himself that I’m still here.

“I’m sorry,Kroshka. May she rest in peace.”

I place my hand over his, squeezing gently. But today is the day. Today, I shatter everything.

My heart feels too full, straining against my ribs. I love him. I always have. I always will. But love isn’t enough anymore. Not when my need for safety and normalcy claws at me. I need someone who loves me, not just loves topossessme.

He told me that he loved me—right before I tried to end it all. I didn’t believe him then, and I don’t believe him now. Those words felt like desperation, not truth.

When we arrive at the mansion, Nadia rushes to see me. She clasps my hands and kisses both my cheeks. “Mila, I’m so happy to see the color back on your face,” she gushes.

Behind her, Rafael stands, his eyes narrowing. His scowl is immediate. Nadia notices and falters. “I meant Mrs. Ivanov,” she corrects herself quickly.

I shake my head, brushing off his glare. “It’s Mila, Nadia. Ignore the brute. Thank you.”

She giggles softly, but the sound dies as she catches Rafael’s icy stare.

“Please, Nadia,” I say with forced calm, “could you make us some black coffee?”

She nods and scurries off, leaving me alone with him. Sitting on the couch, I smooth my dress, clip back my hair, and try to look composed even though my insides are twisting with anxiety.

Rafael follows, he always follows me. He stands by the window, his profile etched against the glass like a dark god surveying his domain.

God help me, it’s happening.

Nadia returns with the coffee. I thank her softly and she retreats. I take the cup in my hands. Its heat grounds me, barely.

“We need to talk,” I say finally, breaking the silence.

He turns to face me, his expression unreadable as he sits beside me. “What is it,Kroshka?”

The way he says my nickname feels like a warning. I take a sip of coffee, stalling, gathering courage.

“I… I need a change, Rafael.”

His brow furrows slightly. “Change?” he echoes. “You can redecorate the mansion if you’d like. Or—”

“No,” I cut him off. “Not something small. Something… bigger. A fresh start.”

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