Page 83 of Carved in Ruin

“You really think this will give you your life back? You think I’ll just let you go and watch youpretendyou don’t belong to me?”

“That’s not how this works, Rafael. People don’t just—”

“Enough!” His voice booms. He paces the room like a caged animal, raking a hand through his hair before stopping abruptly to face me. “You want space? Fine. You’ll have it. One month. That’s all I’m giving you. One fucking month.”

“What?”

“You’ll get an apartment,” he says coldly. “I’ll pay for it. My card is yours, no limits. But you’ll have guards. Twenty-four fucking seven, Mila. They’ll be there whether you like it or not. And after one month…You’ll come back to me. Or I’ll drag you back myself.”

“I don’t know, Rafael,” I admit. “I don’t know if I’ll ever go back to you.”

The words hit like a whip. His fist crashes into what’s left of the table, splinters flying. “You will,” he demands. “Because if you don’t, I’ll burn the fucking world to ash until there’s nowhere left for you to run. We’re tied to each other, Mila. You can try to forget me. But you’ll always come back to me. Always. This is the only way, take it or leave it. Because if you don’t, I’ll tie you here until the end of time. I’ll lock you in my room. I’ll destroy anyone who comes near you. I’ll rip the fucking sky down if it means keeping you with me.”

I swallow hard, my throat dry. I know he’s not bluffing.

“Why would I agree to this?”

His eyes narrow, and for a moment, something softer flickers across his face. Pain. Regret. Obsession. “Because,Kroshka,” he murmurs, “this is the only chance you’ll ever get to leave me, even for a moment, without breaking us both beyond repair.”

My chest aches, my heart burning as if it’s being torn apart. But I nod, forcing the words out. “Fine. One month.”

“And hear me, Mila. No other men. If I so much assensesomeone else, I’ll kill them. I’ll make them disappear so completely no one will even remember their name. Do you understand that?”

I don’t respond.

“Say it,” he orders.

“I understand,” I whisper.

“One month,” he insists, stepping back. “And then you’ll remember exactly who you belong to. Exactly who worships you.”

As I turn away, I feel his gaze, his chains still wrapped around me. And despite the ache in my chest, despite the burn in my heart, I tell myself it’s just a month.

A small window of freedom. Enough time to make him let go. Enough time for him to see we don’t belong together, that it is better for us to be apart.

But as his voice echoes in my head, I realize I don’t believe it.

Thirty Five

Fresh Start

Mila

It’s been a week since my new life began. A week of figuring out what it means to breathe freely. And, surprisingly, I’ve adjusted quickly. Faster than I thought I would.

The physics lab is quiet except for the low hum of machines and the scratch of my pen against paper. I’m perched on a stool, scribbling notes while the data from our experiment blinks on the screen in front of me. We’re working on refining some kind of sensor technology. It’s cutting-edge and way above my previous knowledge, but Professor Elliot doesn’t seem to mind. He’s patient, endlessly encouraging, and more understanding than I probably deserve.

When he announced this research project, I practically begged to be on his team. There were better candidates, I know there were. People who’ve been in this field longer, people who probably have the credentials to match their enthusiasm. ButProfessor Elliot waved it off when I brought it up. He told me my passion outweighed any gaps in my experience.

I should’ve felt pride, but guilt settled in its place. Without Professor Elliot’s help, I wouldn’t have achieved any of this. It makes the scholarship I technically don’t need any more feel a little less earned.

I sigh and focus on calibrating the lab equipment. The project is fascinating. We’re testing sensor arrays, working out bugs, and figuring out how they can be used in more practical applications. The science of it keeps me busy, keeps my mind spinning just enough that it drowns out the other noise in my life.

I rub my shoulder, kneading the spot where there is a dull ache. Recovery came faster than I thought it would—partly because of the top-tier medical care Rafael arranged and partly because the bullet, thankfully, didn’t cause much internal damage. Still, every now and then, a sharp pain jolts through my shoulder. I don’t know if it is psychological.

It’s strange how quickly things turned around, how I went from wanting it all to end to craving life again. Maybe it’s because I finally escaped the reminders of my past. I didn’t expect it, but being away from that darkness made me see things differently. The air feels lighter, the days don’t feel so heavy, and for the first time, there’s this quiet hope inside me. Some nights are still hard. The memories don’t vanish just because I want them to, but it’s nothing like before. Nothing like the numbness that used to wrap itself around me. Now, I can breathe. I can live.

Professor Elliot pops his head in, offering a small smile. He breaks me out of my thoughts. “How’s it going?”

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