Page 78 of Sapphire Tears

I want nothing more than to go after June. But my pride refuses to let me. When the door opens again, I look up hopefully, wondering if maybe she has come back.

But she’s not the one that walks in.

“Milana.”

The sound of her heels is lost in the soft carpet that covers the entire floor. She’s wearing a curious expression. Part sympathetic, part forlorn, but mostly just inscrutable.

It feels like I just spoke to her, but when I glance out the window at the setting sun, I realize it’s been hours. Perhaps even longer. I must’ve slept through most of the day.

“How are you feeling?” she asks as she sinks into the bronzed chair that’s been pushed right next to the bed. It suggests that someone has been at my bedside while I slept. No prizes for guessing who.

“Like shit.”

“That tracks.” She nods and cocks her leg so that her four-inch spike of a heel is pointed right at me. It feels vaguely threatening.

“You didn’t come in here to check on me, Milana.”

She purses her lips. “You told me you wanted to follow this lead. I did what you wanted.” From the look on her face, I’m guessing she got much more than she bargained for.

“I’m in a lot of pain right now, and I don’t have time to be coy about this. Just tell me, for Christ’s sake.”

“Some things are better left in the dark, Kolya,” she says softly.

“Milana.”

She sighs and plays with her bracelets. She’s been doing a lot of that lately, which is new for her—fidgeting, ducking the truth. I don’t like it.

But I think I’ll like what she’s about to tell me a hell of a lot less.

“I think I know who Sapphire is,” she says at last. “My contact didn’t know her real name. She didn’t know who Adrian was, either. But… I think I know. And I think you do, too.”

She’s not wrong. It’s been lined up in front of my eyes for a long time now. Too long for me to keep playing dumb. But I have been. I’ve been telling myself that the comforting lie is easier than the violent truth. I’ve been doing exactly what I’ve mocked June for doing time and time again: burying my head in the sand to keep from realizing something I don’t want to realize.

“My mother,” I whisper.

Milana looks down at her hands for a moment and then back up at me. I’m shocked to see tears in her eyes.

She clears her throat and stands. “You look pale,” she announces. She takes the vase by my bedside and pours me a glass of water. “Here. Drink.”

“I’m not thirsty.”

Sighing, she sets the glass back down. “I’m sorry, Kolya.”

What’s tearing me up most is the should-haves. The crown has been heavy on my head for a long time, and I’ve never doubted myself. But now, with three bullet holes in my body, my woman on the run, and my own brother coming for my throat, I feel the wolves creeping in.

I should have been harsher with my men from the start.

I should have searched harder for my mother when she disappeared.

I should have given Adrian tough love instead of a barrage of excuses.

I should have…

I should have…

I should have.

“She could still be out there,” I suggest, feeling a strangled sort of hope rekindle in the pit of my stomach.

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