Page 60 of Vendetta Vows

But the words sit heavy in my throat, choking me.

"It's nothing, Hannah," I offer weakly. "Look, I'm really sorry for worrying you. But I promise I'm okay."

"Are you, though? Because from where I'm standing, this is all kinds of sketchy. First you run away from a crime scene, then Ruslan tracks you down, and now you're holed up at his place with no end date in sight?"

"It's temporary," I manage. "Just until things blow over."

"And when exactly will things 'blow over'?" Hannah's voice has that edge it gets when she thinks I'm bullshitting her. "Tomorrow? Next week? Next month? Because temporary isn't temporary without an end date, Aurora."

"I don't know," I admit, hating how my voice sounds small even to my own ears. "I don't have an answer for that."

"That's what I thought." Hannah sighs, the sound crackling through the phone. "Whatever it is that you've gotten yourself involved in, it sounds dangerous. Like, what if he's got you locked in a basement and forcing you to say that things are fine when they're not? I can't help feeling like you're not telling me everything."

My free hand twists in the expensive bedspread beneath me. She's right. I'm not telling her everything. I can't.

I take a deep breath, gripping the phone tighter as I make a decision.

"Hannah, what if I tell you a bit about what's happening here? Not everything obviously, but enough to maybe put your mind at ease?"

There's a pause on the line. "I'm listening."

"He's not keeping me locked in some basement if that's what you're worried about." I glance around the opulent room. "Actually, you wouldn't believe this place. I'm in this tower room that's bigger than our entire apartment."

"I'm gonna need you to send me a picture as proof. One with your face in it."

"Alright fine, one sec."

I hold the phone at arm's length, trying for a casual smile that doesn't betray the tumult of the past two days. Behind me, the luxurious room stretches out. All subtle tones that scream old money.

I snap the photo and send it to Hannah. Within seconds, I hear the notification ping on her end.

"Okay, you don't look kidnapped, but…" she says. There's a pause as she examines the image. "Did Ruslan give you that blouse?"

I glance down at the simple cream-colored blouse and fitted black pants. "Yeah. I needed a change of clothing."

"Because?" Hannah sounds suspicious again.

"The ones I wore had... stains."

I swallow hard, not wanting to explain that those stains were blood from a man Ruslan shot right in front of me.

"Stains, huh?" Hannah's tone shifts to playful curiosity for a moment. "Aurora, do you have any idea how much money you're wearing right now?"

I pull the phone away and look at the blouse again. It feels expensive. Silky and substantial against my skin. But I've never been one for designer labels.

Actually, I don't remember seeinganylabels now that I think about it.

"You know I don't make enough to ever shop anywhere fancy."

"Oh my God, you poor sheltered child." Hannah makes an exasperated noise. "Girl, that's a Loro Piana you're wearing."

"A what?"

"Gimme a sec. Hold on."

I hear her typing, then a moment later my phone buzzes with a link. When I open it, my jaw drops.

"SEVEN THOUSAND DOLLARS?" I practically shriek into the phone. "For a blouse? A plain blouse without diamonds or magical powers?"

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