Page 89 of Betrayal and Vows

I hear her fork clatter against the find China plate. See her blink once, slow and hard. Her hand curls around her glass to hide the tremble.

“Yes,” she lies.

A muscle in my jaw snaps.

The oxygen is ripped from my lungs. I meet her eyes across the table and feeleverything. The scream she can’t let out. The plea she’s not allowed to voice. The goodbye. One second, one look, a thousand unsaid things.

She doesn’t flinch. But I feel her break.

Her soul is shattering and the vibrations tear through my body. Swirling darkness blinds me. And then it goes red.

My muscles coil and a flush of red-hot heat slices through me.

Dmitri quietly clears his throat.

His shoulder nudges mine. Not hard, just enough to ground me.

Dinner becomes an endurance test. I watch Mikhail carve his meat while discussing flowers and catering like he's planning a fucking business meeting instead of destroying my woman.

My hands clench behind my back. I don’t trust myself not to reach for the gun at my side.

Lena sits frozen, her fork hovering over untouched food.

She hasn't taken a single bite. Her breathing is too shallow, too controlled. She's holding herself together by sheer force of will. I'm the only one who sees the cracks spreading.

“Three days doesn't give us much time for the dress alterations," Elena says carefully.

"The dress is perfect as is," Mikhail waves dismissively. "Lena will make it work. Won't you, Lena?”

I hear the threat in that question telling me that little meeting in her room was as bad as I suspect.

Lena's spine goes impossibly straighter. "Of course."

Her voice is steady, but I catch the microscopic tremor at the end. She's dying inside and performing for an audience that couldn't care less about her pain.

Vadim leans back in his chair, studying his son with approval. "Eager. I like that. Shows strength."

Shows cruelty, I think. But I remain statue-still in my corner.

"The honeymoon will be brief," Mikhail continues.

I don’t hear any of the bullshit words throughout the rest of dinner.

After their drinks, I walk Lena to her room without a word. I leave her and head outside.

My chest is so tight I’m certain I will find an elephant sitting on it if I look.

I throw open the door and head for the garden.

I drag in deep breaths. Buzzing in my ears and a pit of acid in my belly makes it difficult to breathe.

I’m not surprised to hear Dmitri.

“Anton,” he says. “Get your shit together.”

“I am.”

He lights a cigarette, leans back against the stone wall, and blows out a breath.