Page 168 of Porcelain Lies

Wiping my brow with the back of my arm, I turn away from the battered bag. The adrenaline begins to ebb, leaving behind a restless energy. I need to keep moving.

As if on cue, my phone buzzes in the pile of discarded clothing. I grab it, noting Dr. Malhotra’s name flashing on the screen.

“Dr. Malhotra,” I answer, attempting to steady my breathing.

“Mr. Tarasov, I hope I’m not disturbing you,” he says politely.

“No. What news do you have?”

“I wanted to update you on the preparations for Bobik’s operation,” he begins. “Our team has secured the necessary equipment, and we’re finalizing protocols for the AI integration.”

“Good,” I reply, pacing the length of the room. “And the facility?”

“Secured and private, as per your specifications. We’ve ensured that anonymity will be maintained throughout the process.”

“See that it is,” I warn. “I do not want any mention of my son’s involvement leaking to the media.”

“Of course,” he assures me. “Discretion is paramount. I also wanted to discuss the financial arrangements.”

“Ten million, as discussed. If there are more expenses, tell my people. They will settle anything extra.”

“Thank you, Mr. Tarasov. I’ll keep you informed of any further developments.”

“Do that.”

I end the call, a flicker of hope breaking through the darkness. Bobik’s surgery is a risk, but it’s a chance for him to have the life he deserves. A life without limits.

But with that hope comes anxiety. The what-ifs gnaw at me — the potential complications, the slim margin for error. I can’t lose him. I need to ensure that every possible precaution is taken.

Scrolling through my contacts, I find Vasya’s number and hit dial. He answers immediately.

“Bratok.”

“Vasya, reach out to our contacts in media and cybersecurity,” I instruct. “I want a complete blackout on any information regarding a high-profile surgery in the next month. Monitor for any leaks.”

“Understood,” he replies. “I’ll put in more firewalls and keep a close watch.”

“Spasibo.”

“Anything else?”

“That’s all for now.”

I hang up, the weight on my shoulders only slightly eased. It’s late but I already know that I’m not going to sleep. The mansion feels too small, walls pressing in.

I decide on a night run. The air outside is crisp, the scent of pine and the distant ocean carried on the breeze. I take off down the secluded path that winds through the estate, my feet pounding against the earth in a steady rhythm.

The physical exertion clears my mind, thoughts falling into place with each stride.

As I loop back toward the main house, a lingering thought surfaces — Stella.

I slow my pace, eventually coming to a stop beneath the shadow of an old oak tree. Pulling out my phone, I access the secure surveillance app. A few taps bring up the live feed of her room.

The camera reveals her asleep, the soft rise and fall of her breath visible beneath the thin sheet. The moonlight filters through the curtains, casting a silvery glow across her bare skin. She’s shifted in her sleep, the fabric draped low over her hips, exposing the gentle curve of her belly.

Seeing her like this — a mix of strength and vulnerability — stirs something alien within me. A protective instinct, yes, but also a much deeper pull. An attachment I hadn’t anticipated.

“Zaychik,” I murmur softly. My little rabbit.

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