Page 116 of Vendetta Vows

And that's what really scares me.

I'm starting to trust Ruslan, really trust him. But there's a part of me, the part of my mind where Jamie Fields cowers in fear and screams that I'm giving him the power to destroy me in ways Kristofer never could.

Because I'm granting him access to the real me.

His hand squeezes mine as the car gets closer. I glance up and catch a flicker in his eyes.

He's just as scared as I am.

He's just as afraid of what's growing between us. Of the softness that emerges when we're alone. Of the way his walls come down brick by brick when we're in the sanctuary of each other's embrace.

Neither of us planned for this. We're two broken people who recognized something familiar in each other's damage. Two souls carved by loss into shapes that somehow fit perfectly together.

Ruslan and I are reflections of each other. Both running from ghosts, both hiding our true selves, and both terrified of being hurt again.

And both finding out that maybe, just maybe, we're still capable of love.

The car stops, and a driver rushes to open the door. Liliya Dragunov emerges like royalty. Elegant, composed, and wrapped in an aura of quiet authority. Her face reveals nothing as she surveys us.

Her golden eyes look just like Ruslan's. But when they find me, I can't help but feel a different shiver run down my spine.

Those are eyes that miss nothing.

Ruslan steps forward. "Mamechka."

She nods at him, then turns her gaze directly to me. I feel naked under her stare, like she's peeling back my skin to examine the bones beneath.

"So." Her voice is soft yet carries enormous power. "You must be Aurora Castellanos."

The way she says my name sends ice down my spine. Something in her tone tells me she sees right through me, through the lies and the mask I've worn for seven years.

"I wish to speak with her alone," Liliya says, her eyes never leaving my face.

Ruslan stiffens beside me. "Whatever you need to say to my fiancée, you can say in front of me."

"This is not a negotiation, Ruslan Vitalyevich," she replies, voice steady but with steel underneath. "I've been driven two hours to meet the woman who has allegedly captured my son's heart. Surely I deserve a moment alone with her."

"Mamechka, I don't think?—"

I place my hand on his chest, feeling his heart drumming beneath my palm. "It's okay," I whisper, trying to sound more confident than I feel. "I'll go with her."

His jaw clenches, golden eyes flashing with concern. "Are you sure?"

"Trust me." I rise on my tiptoes and press my lips against his cheek, breathing in his familiar scent of cedarwood and mahogany, tinged with just the lightest lingering essence of me on his lips.

He reluctantly steps back, and Liliya's observant gaze misses nothing about our interaction.

"Follow," she says, turning without waiting to see if I follow.

I trail behind her into the mansion, my feet shuffling silently against the marble floor as we move down a corridor I've never walked down before. The silence between us grows heavier with each step, pressing down on my shoulders like a physical weight.

What does she want? What does she know? My mind races with possibilities, each one worse than the last. I keep my expression neutral despite the screaming anxiety inside me.

Liliya stops before a heavy wooden door at the end of the corridor. She pauses, her hand on the brass handle, and for just a moment I catch something like hesitation cross her face.

Then she pushes it open and reveals an office. It's grand and imposing with dark wood paneling and bookshelves reaching to the ceiling.

Dust motes dance in the sunlight streaming through tall windows. At the center sits a massive desk that looks like it was carved from a single ancient tree.

---