“As good of a reason as any to walk away,” I say quietly, hearing my voice crack at the edges. I push myself to my feet, stepping back as I look down at her. “You’ll see that this was the right choice eventually, I promise. I’m giving you a way out of this world you were dragged into against your will.”
“I don’t want you to do this,” Sasha whispers, but I’m already backing away, forcing myself to stand on my decision.
“I’m marrying Adriana,” I tell her quietly. “But I need you to understand, Sasha–this is a marriage of convenience, to make alliances and heirs, and nothing else. I will never love her or want her–and when I don’t need to give her children, I won’t touch her. I will keep my vows as best as I am able, while still keeping the one that means the most to me.”
There’s a hint of bitterness in Sasha’s voice when she speaks, finally. “And which one is that?”
“The vow to protect you.” I swallow hard, forcing myself to continue. “This would have been my brother’s duty, to marry for the family, and now it’s mine.”
Sasha tips her chin up, her eyes glittering with tears. “Are you going to spend your whole life filling your brothers’ shoes? Or are you ever going to walk in your own?”
I’m not sure if she will ever know how deeply those words cut at that moment. But I force myself to breathe, to ignore it, as tears start to stream down her face.
“Once the danger is past,” I say softly, “you can go home.”
“And you? Where will you go?” Her voice breaks, and she wraps her arms around herself.
“I will stay here.” The words, as they come out, sound as final as the grave. I see her shoulders start to shake with sobs, and more than almost anything in all the world, I want to go to her.
I want to tell her that I didn’t mean any of it. But instead, I turn and walk out of the room, shutting the door behind me, blocking out the sound of her tears.
I want, most of all, to keep her safe.
This is the best way.
I have to believe that–or I don’t know where either of us will go from here.
23
SASHA
For a week, Max and I barely speak. He tells me to stay upstairs during the gala, that it’s best for me to stay out of sight, and I think he expects me to listen to him as I always do.
I have absolutely no intention of that.
I know I’m being bitter and petty. I know that he’s trying to help andsaveme, and that this is tearing him apart as much as it is me. Deep down, I know all of that. But it doesn’t stop the feeling of betrayal.
It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t love her. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t want her. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t plan to fuck her except for when they need to make a baby, cold and clinical.
He’s going to marry another woman. Go to bed with another woman. Beinsideof another woman.It doesn’t matter that it will be emotionless, passionless, a cold echo of what Max and I had together.
I want to see her and for her to see me. I want her to always wonder if I’m the one Max is thinking of when he’s with her, the one he’s wishing for. I want to always be a ghost in this house, in their lives, long after I’m gone.
I don’t need to bother with getting a dress for the gala. I have a dark blue silk evening gown with a low swooping neckline, thin straps, and a slit up the side, along with my earrings and the heels that Caterina gifted me. The night of the gala, I hide up in my room as he asked, but instead of staying there, I spend the hours beforehand getting ready.
It’s been a long time since I took so much care with my appearance. I curl my hair, leaving it in loose reddish-blonde waves down my back, pinned on one side to show the earring dangling. I use a light hand with my makeup, shadowing my eyes in the same rose gold as my jewelry, and lightly tinting my lips with rose, knowing what Max likes best. As I get dressed, I feel my chest tighten, knowing that I’m doing this to make him hurt.
I don’twanthim to hurt–but I want him to know what he’s losing. What he’s sacrificing.
I’d rather both of us run forever, together, than do this. But I can’t make him agree.
I wait until the sounds of the party in the formal ballroom begin to grow louder, hovering in the hallway until I hear Max’s voice. A soft woman’s voice says something in return, and my breath catches.
As quickly as I can in the heels, I hurry down the stairs, arriving almost the moment I intend to. I step onto the floor as Max nearly runs into me, a brunette woman on his arm, and both of them freeze in place.
“Sasha.” The disapproval in his voice is thick, and it hurts to hear. “You’re supposed to be upstairs.”
“Is she Cinderella?” The beautiful woman next to him laughs, shaking her head. Her dark hair is in a complicated updo, setting off her fine features, and she’s wearing a deep red dress that matches the ruby jewelry flashing off of her neck and ears. “Why can’t she come to the party, Max?”