Page 27 of Porcelain Lies

“No.” Heat rises in my chest, anger finally breaking through the numbness. “Every penny would remind me of his lies. Of how he played me for a fool while building a life with someone else. While I was picking out china patterns and planning our future, he was—” My voice cracks. “He was laughing at me behind my back.”

“He wasn’t laughing—”

“Of course he was!” The words explode out of me. “Poor, naive Stella. So eager to believe in love, in happily ever after. God, I was such an idiot.” I stop, choking back tears. “I trusted him with everything.”

Hannah stands, reaching for me, but I wave her off. “I’d rather live in a cardboard box than touch one cent of his blood money. Let his other girlfriend have it all.”

“Okay, okay.” Hannah’s lips curve into a mischievous smile. “But what if instead of money, we focus on revenge? I’m thinking glitter bombs in his expensive suits. Or maybewe sign him up for every embarrassing mail-order catalogue in existence?”

The absurdity of it breaks through my rage. A small laugh escapes before I can stop it.

“There’s my girl.” Hannah bumps my shoulder. “I’ve got more ideas. How do you feel about industrial strength laxatives?” When I give a snort of laughter, she goes on, “Or wait… I heard about this woman who put sardines in the air conditioning unit of her ex’s BMW. The car was ruined! Maybe—”

“I slept with someone else last night.” The confession bursts out before I can stop it. Hannah’s mouth drops open, her tirade against Gianni forgotten.

“You what?”

“I… met someone. At the charity event.” My fingers twist in my lap as Hannah’s eyes widen. “After everything with Gianni, I was crying in a corner and he just appeared. Like some dark guardian angel with perfect manners and an expensive suit.”

Hannah scoots closer on the couch, her half-finished muffins completely forgotten. “Go on.”

“He took me to dinner. This incredibly fancy Russian restaurant.” Heat creeps up my neck at the memory. “The kind where they don’t even show prices on the menu.”

“Russian?” Hannah’s eyebrows shoot up. “Like, actually Russian or just the restaurant?”

“Both. His accent…” I close my eyes, remembering the way his voice rolled over certain words. “God, Han. The way he spoke, how he moved. Everything about him was just… intense.”

Hannah pulls her legs under her, settling in like we’re teenagers at a sleepover. “Details. I need all of them. What did he look like?”

“Tall. Dark hair.” My cheeks flush remembering how that hair felt against my bare skin. “Eyes that seemed to see right through me. And his hands…” I trail off, watching Hannah’s expression shift from curiosity to delighted scandal.

“Stella Fermont!” She grabs my arm. “You actually did it? A one-night stand with a mysterious Russian stranger?”

I bury my face in my hands, but can’t hide my smile. “I don’t even know his name.”

“Wait.” Hannah sits up straighter. “You slept with him without knowing his name?”

“It didn’t seem to matter. He had this… presence.” I sink deeper into the couch, the memories washing over me. “The kind that fills a room. When he walked up to me, everything else just faded away.”

“Even the Gianni drama?” Hannah prompts.

“Completely.” My fingers trace the arm of the couch. “He didn’t try to fix things or give advice. Just listened, ordered champagne, and somehow made me laugh. The way he looked at me…” Heat spreads across my chest remembering his intense gaze. “Like I was the only person in the world.”

“And the chemistry?”

“Electric.” The word comes out breathy. “Every time our hands brushed, or his knee touched mine under the table… God, Han, I’ve never felt anything like it. The air between us was practically sizzling.”

“Better than Gianni?”

“Different universe entirely.” I bite my lip, remembering. “He knew exactly what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it. But also… gentle? Considerate? The perfect balance of control and tenderness.”

I sound like a gushing schoolgirl, but I can’t help myself.

Hannah fans herself dramatically. “Stop, you’re making me jealous! Some of us haven’t had mind-blowing sex with mysterious Russian strangers lately.”

I throw a pillow at her head. “Trust me, if you’d seen him… those shoulders, the way his suit fit…” I trail off, laughing as Hannah pretends to swoon onto the couch.

“Not fair!” She pouts playfully. “You get all the hot Russians while I’m stuck with dating apps full of guys who still live with their mothers.”

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