26
CORA
It takes a full thirty seconds after Ivan has left the bathroom for me to feel the small lump he left in my palm.
I open my hand and find a necklace. It’s a circular locket with intricate designs worked into the gold. It looks like the petals of a peony. It looks like the engagement ring Ivan gave me.
I glance down at my left hand. For as much as I hated the gaudy ring at first, I miss it now that it’s gone. I hope Francia isn’t wearing it. If she is, I’ll make sure she chokes on it before she dies.
I flick the tiny latch on the locket and it springs open. A tiny strip of paper falls out. I unfurl it with trembling fingers.
Wear this and I will always find you.
Tears burn the backs of my eyes. I press the locket against my chest and try to gather up these last few minutes I had with Ivan. I want to hold them close and use them to help me make it through the next however many days I have left in this prison.
Then I hear Ivan’s voice in my head.
You are Cora fucking St. Clair.
He has a plan and I am stronger than I think. So I take a deep breath and get to work.
I flush the strip of paper down the toilet and drop the locket into my pocket. I can’t walk out wearing a piece of jewelry I didn’t have going in. I’ll figure out how to make sure it can hang proudly around my neck soon.
Until then, Ivan told me to clean myself up. I turn to the mirror and—holy hell. My lipstick is smudged around my swollen mouth, my eyeliner has gone smokey, and my hair is falling out of the loose bun I had it twisted into.
As quickly as I can, I clean up the blurred edges of my makeup and redo my hair. It’s not perfect, but Mikhail has been so busy showing me off that he hasn’t really bothered to look at me.
But as soon as I step into the restaurant’s dining room, Mikhail is waiting by the hallway. He grabs my arm and pulls me towards the back patio.
“We’re leaving,” he hisses.
I feel like I’m suddenly standing under a black light, signs of Ivan blazing across every inch of my skin. He’s going to smell Ivan on me.
He’ll see what I’ve been doing. He knows.
I take a deep breath and do my best to look confused. “What? We haven’t even eaten yet.”
He spins around so he’s in front of me. His pale face looks yellow in the direct sunlight. “Where were you?”
I snap, “I was in the bathroom. Can I not even go to the bathroom by myself now?”
His hand tightens around my wrist, but his eyes shift over my shoulder towards the dining room. People are watching us. He loosens his grip and smiles.
“Where the fuck were you, Cordelia?”
“I just told you: I was in the bathroom, Mikhail.”
Is Ivan somewhere behind me? Can he see me right now? The urge to turn around and find him is strong, but I shove it down.
Instead, I pat Mikhail’s forearm as gently as I can bear to. “Did something happen? Is everything okay?”
He frowns at my gentle touch. Then he follows the line of my arm up, up, up. For the first time all day, he looks at me. Really looks at me.
Then he grabs my hand and pulls me out of the restaurant.
I struggle to keep up with his long strides. “I’m in heels,” I remind him. “Can we slow down? Where are we—”
We duck behind a tall hedge and he turns on me. “Did you know he would be here?”
Warning bells blare so loud I can barely hear him. Can barely think. “Who?”
His top lip sneers. “Ivan.”
I knew that’s what he was going to say, but my stomach still bottoms out. I hope it adds an air of authenticity to the shock I smear across my face. “What? He was—He was here? Today?”
His pale eyes narrow. “Yes. He and Francia showed up together moments before you walked out of the bathroom.”
“Then how would I know he was there?”
He stares hard at me for a long time. I hold my breath until, finally, Mikhail turns away, though he keeps a hand on my arm. He leads me to the waiting car and herds me into the backseat.
I feel the distance growing between Ivan and me. It hurts, like a chain set into my ribcage with fishhooks.
I ignore the ache. At least Mikhail isn’t interrogating me anymore.
But the moment he closes his door, he’s on me again. His fingers are clenched around my forearm with bruising force and I can’t twist away.
“Ow! You’re hurting me.”
“You’ll suffer worse than this,” he croaks, “if you ever so much as breathe the same air as Ivan Pushkin again.”
“You’re the one who made me come here for lunch! I would have stayed home if you hadn’t made me go.”
He scowls, but there’s no denying that’s exactly how it went this morning.
“If you’re so worried about everyone knowing I belong to you, why don’t you just get me a dog collar?” I add sarcastically. “You could put your name and address on the tag in case I get lost.”
“A leash might not be such a bad idea. Disobedience should be punished.”
My stomach turns. The way he talks about me like I’m barely human is terrifying.
But I can use this.
“I don’t know if I’d even mind a leash,” I mumble. “Then maybe women like Lucy wouldn’t give me so much shit.”
His anger gutters out. “What did Lucy say?”
That I’m an idiot for giving up Ivan.
She wasn’t wrong, but I can’t say that. That won’t help my argument at all.
“She noticed I didn’t have a ring on and wondered how serious we really were.” I sigh. “That’s why I went to the bathroom. I didn’t want to talk to her anymore.”
I watch as the words land exactly how I planned them.
Mikhail twists his lips in thought. “There’s a ring, but it’s going to take time to have it finished and resized.”
“If you really want to convince people we are together, get me another piece of jewelry in the meantime. A bracelet or…” I pretend to waver, thinking. “A necklace could work. It’s not so far off from a collar.”
I look out the window, feigning boredom. Pretending like my heart isn’t about to hurl itself out of my chest.
“I was under the impression you didn’t want people to think we were really together. You’re still waiting for Ivan Pushkin to come save you from my evil clutches, aren’t you?” he drawls.
It’s a trap. He’s so twisted, he might actually like if I fall into it. That way he’d have an excuse to punish me. Not that he needs one.
I snort. “I’ve given up on men—all men. My relationship with Ivan was never real. Maybe I deluded myself into thinking it was real, but…” I shrug. “He’s with Francia and he isn’t coming for me.”
Mikhail’s hand loosens on my arm. “If you’ve given up on men, why do you want people to think you’re with me?”
I look up into his pale eyes. We’re closer than I thought. I can see the blue veins running under his skin. The desperation burning in them.
“I may not have chosen to be here, but if I have to, I don’t want to be at the center of the rumor mill. I want to be left alone. If selling your version of the story does that, then so be it.”
It’s a blend of my truth and the reality Mikhail wants. A compromise of sorts. I just hope he takes it.
He lets out a slow breath, his eyes roving over my face. Then, without looking away, he barks at the driver, “Stop at a jewelry store on the way back. Any store. I don’t care which.”
I fight back a smile as the words from Ivan’s note flicker in my mind. Wear this and I will always find you.
I hope to God he meant it.