Page 67 of Twisted Empire: King's Gambit

“I saw how you looked at the door. Mikhail won’t come tonight,” she starts, almost cautiously. “He’s out with our father, apparently meeting with yours.”

“I know,” I reply, an emptiness settling in my chest. “He mentioned it last night.”

She has a curious look in her eyes as she cocks her head to one side, and it seems like there’s something she wants to say but doesn’t. As far as I know, she and Mikhail aren’t close, but they’re not estranged either.

Would she know what happened? She would have been too young, but I wonder.

“Do you mind if I ask you something a bit personal?”

“That depends on the question,” she answers, my eyes not leaving hers.

“Did Mikhail ever have someone before me … Someone who hurt him?”

Natalya hesitates and empties her glass. “It’s not my place to talk about it, Gabi.”

It’s a non-answer, but an answer nonetheless. I nod, taking it in. As I do, my mind drifts to what Mikhail told me about Sophia, and suddenly, the walls feel like they’re closing in. I take a sip of my champagne; the bubbles doing little to lift the heaviness that’s settled over me.

“Mikhail was different before... before whatever it was that changed him,” she says with a sigh. “We used to be close, but he became colder, more withdrawn after that. If you want to know more, the best person to ask would be him.”

The air grows heavier between us and I nod, my mind swimming with new questions, though I decide to shelve them for now. “Thanks, Natalya,” I say, meaning it.

We disperse into the crowd once more, our faces painted with fake smiles. For a while, I manage to drown out the background noise of my anxieties, focusing instead on the music, the dancing, the light banter.

Eventually, I make my way to the restroom, my heels clicking on the marble floor as I go. After taking care of the necessary, I open the stall door, my hand instinctively going to smooth my dress. That’s when my heart drops.

Soft eyes and a head full of curls — Damien. His dark eyes lock onto mine, and memories flash through my mind. I think of the ominous text he sent and take a step back.

“Damien?” My voice is a shaky whisper, barely audible over the dull thump of the music filtering through the walls. “What…. what are you doing here?”

“I told you I’d save you, Bella. I’ve missed you.” He steps closer, each footfall echoing in the tiled space, reverberating through my chest like a drum.

“No...” I stand my ground even as he reaches for me. “No, you need to leave. If Mikhail finds you here, he’ll kill you!”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “That Russian scum can’t do anything to me. I’m untouchable,” he says, pulling me close, one hand on the wall next to my head. I suck in a breath as his lips near mine, the familiar rush coursing through me.

But I snap back to reality just in time. With a surge of adrenaline, I shove him away, my palm connecting with his face in a sharp slap.

“Don’t ever touch me again,” I hiss, my heart pounding so hard it drowns out all other sounds. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from me, Damien.”

For a moment, he looks stunned, as if my rejection is a language he can’t understand. Then his eyes narrow, and I can see the gears turning, recalculating his approach, but it’s too late. He’s already shown his hand.

“I’ll stay away for now, but you need to know that you’re mine,” he says finally. “I’ll show him parts of you he’ll never reach and make him see that you’ll always be mine, Bella.”

He grins and licks his lips. “Or should I say Gabriette?” his voice is laced with something I can’t quite place. It’s neither love nor hate, but something far more dangerous—obsession.

When he leaves, I’m left staring at my reflection in the mirror, my heart pounding in my chest. Questions race through my mind, the most glaring is what he called me.

He knows my real name. How did he find me? What does he want? And what will happen when Mikhail learns about this?

I rejoin Natalya, forcing a smile and trying to appear as if nothing’s amiss. “Did I miss anything?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Only the usual gala gossip,” Natalya says, returning my smile. Her eyes, however, linger on me a moment longer, as if sensing that something’s off.

“By the way,” she continues, lowering her voice, “Mikhail’s birthday is coming up. We’re planning a party for him, and this time, we want to actually surprise him. He always seems to catch on beforehand.”

“Who’s we?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “And when is it?”

“Next weekend, and it’s the entire family. Me, Lee, our mother, cousins … Okay, mostly the woman, but you get my drift!”

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