Page 187 of Porcelain Lies

I back away until I feel myself press against a wall, the rough concrete biting into my shoulder blades. My breaths come short and shallow, my chest heaving as panic cracks through my resolve.

“Gianni, for fuck’s sake! We don’t have time for this,” Sofia objects but he stops her with an upheld palm.

“Quiet,” he barks, and her mouth snaps shut. I don’t know if it’s obedience or surprise, but both seem foreign to her. “I’ve always wanted to fuck a pregnant woman… with someone watching. Seeing her like this… it’s too perfect to pass up.” He reaches for my chin, his grip on it tightening painfully when I try to pull away.

“Gianni…” she tries once more.

“Sit down and be quiet,” he says, jerking his head toward a nearby chair. His hand is delving into the front of his open pants.I fight down a gag as he tugs out his hard cock and begins to stroke it. The tip is already glistening with precum as he rolls his palm over it, leering at me. I stare in horror for a second before snapping my eyes back to his face.

Sofia has sunk onto the chair, her face a mask of conflicting emotions.

Gianni’s grin stretches wider. “Strip,” he commands me.

Chapter Fifty-Five

Aleksei

Bobik’s procedure churns in my mind like a relentless storm as the car eats up the miles back to the manor.

My fingers drum an erratic, anxiety-fueled rhythm on the steering wheel, each tap a silent echo of the turmoil inside me. The boy’s unwavering optimism before they wheeled him into surgery lingers like a ghost, haunting me. Yet, Dr. Malhotra’s calm, assured voice cuts through the fog—‘Trust me, Aleksei. We’ve got this.”— and I cling to it like a lifeline.

But it’s not enough.

For reasons I can’t quite understand, I need Stella. Her sharp, scientific mind would unravel the tangled threads of my thoughts, make sense of the chaos. Or maybe… maybe it’s more than that. Something deeper, something I’m only now beginning to acknowledge. She’s become the one person I trust with the mess inside my head, the one who makes me feel… safe to reveal my feelings.

And right now, I’m a fucking wreck. Torn between hope and terror, buoyed by Malhotra’s confidence yet paralyzed by the weight of what’s at stake. My son. My life.

I park my car in front of the entrance to the Left Wing and jog up the stairs. There’s nobody in the foyer and the hallways are silent when I stride through, unsettling me.

She’s not by the pool, her favorite spot to lose herself in a book. Nor is she in her bedroom, though the memory of her — soft, warm,mine— lingers in the space. My fingers twitch withthe phantom sensation of her skin beneath them. I force myself to turn away, my jaw tight.

“Stella?” My voice echoes off marble floors as I move briskly through the corridors.

Nothing.

It’s been hours since I let her go shopping. She should be back by now.

Unease crawls up my spine as I stride to Diana’s quarters. She’s sprawled on her chaise, arm draped over her eyes.

“Where’s Stella?”

“No idea.” Diana winces, not bothering to get up. “Migraine. Been here all day.”

“If you see her, tell her I need to speak to her. It’s urgent.”

“Sure. Is Bobi okay?” she says feebly.

“Still waiting to hear from the doctor. I’ll let you know as soon as he gives me an update.” I don’t wait to hear her response. I’m already striding out the door. My phone is vibrating in my pocket and I scowl. I’ve ignored it till now, listening only for the personalized ringtone that I’d set for Malhotra. Now, I wish I’d paid more attention.

“Blyad,” I mutter, scrolling through a flood of security alerts. My blood runs cold.

Stella…gone?

A string of missed calls and messages from my security team flashes across my screen, each one amplifying my dread:

“Stella has run off.”

I stop in my tracks.

---