She reaches me, and I crash into her, arms wrapping tight, breath knocked out of me as I bury my face in her shoulder. I don’t cry. I just cling. My body finally recognizes something safe, something known.
“Oh my God,” Ellie whispers, holding me just as hard. “I missed you so much.”
For the first time in days, my chest loosens. Just a little. She smells like home. Like normal life. Like the version of me that existed before everything went wrong.
“He arranged this,” she says softly, pulling back just enough to look at me, eyes scanning my face. “Konstantin. He said you might need a friendly face today.”
I let out a shaky breath, my fingers tightening in her jacket. Of course he did.
I guide her toward the garden, the path still damp from last night’s rain, and we settle onto a bench tucked under the broad shade of a magnolia. The air smells of wet earth and blossoms, a strange calm after the storm of the last few days.
Ellie sits close, shoulders brushing mine, hands folded loosely in her lap. She studies me for a long moment before asking, “How…how have you been since the wedding?”
I swallow, words catching in my throat. “It’s…been a lot,” I admit, voice small at first, then stronger as I find the rhythm of confession. “Threats. Markov. Reed lying to me about my father…Konstantin watching my every move. It’s—” My voice cracks, and I pause, gripping the edge of the bench.
“Who are these people, Ray?”
“People who probably want me dead because of my father.”
“My goodness,” she gasps.
Ellie doesn’t speak. She just shifts closer, resting a steadying hand on my back. Her presence is an anchor.
“I feel like my whole life got flipped,” I continue, spilling the days, the fear, the grief, the fury. “And every time I think I’ve caught my breath, something else comes at me. Someone else trying to take what I care about, or twist the truth so I can’t even trust it….”
She holds me through it all, arms tightening around me in silent understanding. I talk until my voice runs thin, until the words dissolve into the damp air. When I finally fall silent, I notice the tears in Ellie’s eyes—bright and fierce, full of the kind of emotion I didn’t expect from someone I always thought invincible.
I blink at her, chest heaving. “You’re crying,” I say softly.
She shakes her head, sniffles, but doesn’t pull away. “I’m not crying for you,” she whispers. “I’m crying because thisshouldn’t have happened to you. You’re supposed to be safe. You’re supposed to be…you.”
And in that moment, for the first time in days, I feel the weight on my chest ease—just a fraction—because someone remembers the girl I was, even in the middle of all the chaos.
Ellie blinks at me, then steadies herself. “Tell me one thing, Ray,” she says quietly. “Tell me how he’s treating you. Tell me how this marriage is.” Her voice firms. “You can’t be going through all of this and be in a bad marriage.”
I look down at my hands. At the way my fingers are still faintly trembling.
I open my mouth—and the truth comes out before I can stop it.
“He’s…good to me,” I say slowly. “Too good, sometimes. Protective. Attentive. Like the world is a threat and I’m the only thing worth shielding from it.”
Ellie watches me closely. I keep going, because if I stop, I won’t start again.
“He listens. He remembers things I didn’t think anyone noticed. He makes space for my anger. For my grief. He doesn’t tell me to calm down or be small or be grateful.” My throat tightens. “He makes me feel…seen.”
Ellie’s expression softens, but there’s still concern there. “That doesn’t sound bad.”
“That’s the problem,” I whisper. I finally look at her, and my voice drops. “I’m terrified.”
Her brows knit together. “Of what?”
I swallow. “Because part of me is starting to belong here.”
The words feel dangerous. Like a confession and a betrayal all at once.
“To this house,” I continue. “To the guards. To the rules. To the violence hovering just under the surface.” My chest tightens. “To him.”
Ellie doesn’t interrupt. She just lets me unravel.