Page 67 of Vendetta Crown

"And that's where..." she says, her voice hollow. "That was where he wrote it. It was the first thing I'd see when I walk in."

I know what she's talking about.

The message written in her family's blood.

Look what you made me do.

I notice Aurora's breathing change, growing shallow and rapid. Her pupils dilate, and her hand starts shaking.

She's crossing into dangerous territory now, mentally walking back into that house where her entire life was destroyed.

"Zarechka," I say softly, closing my hand over hers. "That's enough for today."

"No," she protests, but her voice sounds distant, detached. "I can keep going. We need to finish?—"

"You need to rest," I insist, gently closing the laptop.

She opens her mouth to argue, but I can see she's struggling to maintain composure. Her chest rises and falls too quickly, and a light sheen of sweat has broken out across her forehead.

"I'll have Artyom pull images from the crime scene files," I tell her, the idea coming to me naturally. "We can create an accurate recreation without you having to relive every moment."

This is precisely what I've been trying to avoid: Aurora forced to mentally return to that blood-soaked house, to walk through rooms where Kristofer butchered her family. I promised to protect her, and that means sometimes protecting her from herself.

"But—"

"Aurora." I take her face in my hands, forcing her to focus on me instead of the horrors replaying in her mind. "You've done more than enough today. You've done so well."

I run my thumbs across her cheeks, feeling her begin to calm under my touch. Her breathing slowly evens out.

"Let me do this part for you," I murmur. "Trust me."

She searches my eyes for a long moment, and then nods slowly.

"Okay," she whispers.

Relief washes through me. I stand and offer her my hand, which she takes without hesitation.

I lead her out of the office, fingers intertwined with hers, and escort her up the stairs toward our bedroom.

18

AURORA

ONE WEEK LATER

I still can't shakeoff my nervous jitters as Ruslan and I wait in the foyer.

"You okay,zarechka?" Ruslan reaches for my hand, his thumb tracing small circles over my palm.

"I'm fine." I look up at the lavish chandelier, trying not to count the minutes until the doctor arrives.

"Nervous about the ultrasound?"

"Terrified," I admit. "What if something's wrong?"

"Nothing will be wrong." He brings my hand to his lips. "Our baby is strong, like their mother."

I can't help but smile. "Do you want a boy or a girl?"

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