Page 104
Story: Porcelain Vows
“Why did you…” I hesitate. “Why did you try to kill yourself yesterday?” I ask, the question that’s been haunting me since finding her in the forest.
She looks down at her hands, tears still flowing. “My father is dead. Gianni is dead. The revenge plot feels hollow now. And when I realized you were my sister— that I’d been trying to destroy my own blood…” She shakes her head. “There’s no point in me living.”
The raw despair in her voice strikes directly at my heart. I reach for her hand, covering it with mine. Our fingers intertwine naturally.
“That’s not true,” I say firmly. “You have me now. You have family.”
She looks up, disbelief warring with desperate hope in her eyes. “After everything I’ve done? You can’t possibly want me in your life.”
“We’ve both been victims of circumstances beyond our control,” I say. “But now we have a choice about what happens next.”
In the distance, Bobik laughs at something Maria has said, the sound carrying across the garden like a reminder of innocence and joy still possible in this complicated world.
“I don’t know how to be a sister,” Sofia admits, vulnerability replacing her usual mask of control. “I don’t know how to be part of a family.”
“We’ll learn together.” I squeeze her hand gently.
The spring breeze stirs the cherry blossoms above us, sending a shower of pale petals spiraling around our bench. Some land in Sofia’s dark hair like tiny stars against a night sky. For the first time, I see a genuine smile touch her lips— hesitant, unpracticed, but real.
“I’d like that,” she whispers.
As we sit together under the flowering tree, I feel something shift between us— not forgiveness exactly, not yet, but the possibility of it.
“You’ll never have to be alone again,” I promise, and in that moment, I truly mean it.
Chapter Forty-One
Aleksei
I straighten the papers on my desk for the third time, checking my watch against the ornate clock on the wall.
Ten minutes until my next appointment— an appointment I arranged through Diana rather than setting it myself. A conversation I’m not looking forward to but know is necessary.
For Stella, I remind myself.
The guilt surfaces unexpectedly, a sharp stab beneath my ribs as I recall Sofia in the forest clearing, gun to her head. How much of her despair stems from my actions? The public rejection at our arranged wedding was business, not personal— but to her, the humiliation was very personal. And then there’s her father…
I killed Sergei Novikov with my own hands. Threw him across a public restroom after he made a dismissive comment about Bobik and his condition. Business and personal intertwined, as they always do in our world. I don’t regret eliminating a threat to my family and business, but I can’t deny the consequences: Sofia, already unstable, lost her only remaining family.
A soft knock interrupts my thoughts. “Come in,” I call, my voice carefully neutral.
The door opens to reveal Sofia Novikova— the woman I’ve spent the entire morning not wanting to speak to.
“Aleksei,” she says, her voice lacking its usual sharp edge. She looks better than she did in the forest— color returned to her face, just a small bandage over the stitches in her forehead— but fragility clings to her. The composed, calculating woman I once knew has been replaced by someone more vulnerable, more human.
“Sofia.” I gesture to the chair opposite my desk. “Sit.”
She moves carefully, lowering herself into the leather chair. Her eyes dart around my office, taking in the expensive furnishings, the security detail visible through the windows, the family photos I’ve angled slightly away from visitor’s view. Her gaze lingers briefly on a photo of Stella with Polina— her biological sister and niece.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet,” I say, falling back on business formalities to navigate this bizarre situation. “I thought it was time we discussed certain arrangements.”
“Arrangements,” she repeats, her tone cautious.
I lean forward slightly, resting my forearms on the desk. “Stella has explained your… connection to her. Your biological relationship.”
Sofia nods once, her expression guarded. “She has.”
“I’m willing to accept you as part of our family,” I continue, still neutral, all business. “Given your blood connection to Stella and my daughter.”
She looks down at her hands, tears still flowing. “My father is dead. Gianni is dead. The revenge plot feels hollow now. And when I realized you were my sister— that I’d been trying to destroy my own blood…” She shakes her head. “There’s no point in me living.”
The raw despair in her voice strikes directly at my heart. I reach for her hand, covering it with mine. Our fingers intertwine naturally.
“That’s not true,” I say firmly. “You have me now. You have family.”
She looks up, disbelief warring with desperate hope in her eyes. “After everything I’ve done? You can’t possibly want me in your life.”
“We’ve both been victims of circumstances beyond our control,” I say. “But now we have a choice about what happens next.”
In the distance, Bobik laughs at something Maria has said, the sound carrying across the garden like a reminder of innocence and joy still possible in this complicated world.
“I don’t know how to be a sister,” Sofia admits, vulnerability replacing her usual mask of control. “I don’t know how to be part of a family.”
“We’ll learn together.” I squeeze her hand gently.
The spring breeze stirs the cherry blossoms above us, sending a shower of pale petals spiraling around our bench. Some land in Sofia’s dark hair like tiny stars against a night sky. For the first time, I see a genuine smile touch her lips— hesitant, unpracticed, but real.
“I’d like that,” she whispers.
As we sit together under the flowering tree, I feel something shift between us— not forgiveness exactly, not yet, but the possibility of it.
“You’ll never have to be alone again,” I promise, and in that moment, I truly mean it.
Chapter Forty-One
Aleksei
I straighten the papers on my desk for the third time, checking my watch against the ornate clock on the wall.
Ten minutes until my next appointment— an appointment I arranged through Diana rather than setting it myself. A conversation I’m not looking forward to but know is necessary.
For Stella, I remind myself.
The guilt surfaces unexpectedly, a sharp stab beneath my ribs as I recall Sofia in the forest clearing, gun to her head. How much of her despair stems from my actions? The public rejection at our arranged wedding was business, not personal— but to her, the humiliation was very personal. And then there’s her father…
I killed Sergei Novikov with my own hands. Threw him across a public restroom after he made a dismissive comment about Bobik and his condition. Business and personal intertwined, as they always do in our world. I don’t regret eliminating a threat to my family and business, but I can’t deny the consequences: Sofia, already unstable, lost her only remaining family.
A soft knock interrupts my thoughts. “Come in,” I call, my voice carefully neutral.
The door opens to reveal Sofia Novikova— the woman I’ve spent the entire morning not wanting to speak to.
“Aleksei,” she says, her voice lacking its usual sharp edge. She looks better than she did in the forest— color returned to her face, just a small bandage over the stitches in her forehead— but fragility clings to her. The composed, calculating woman I once knew has been replaced by someone more vulnerable, more human.
“Sofia.” I gesture to the chair opposite my desk. “Sit.”
She moves carefully, lowering herself into the leather chair. Her eyes dart around my office, taking in the expensive furnishings, the security detail visible through the windows, the family photos I’ve angled slightly away from visitor’s view. Her gaze lingers briefly on a photo of Stella with Polina— her biological sister and niece.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet,” I say, falling back on business formalities to navigate this bizarre situation. “I thought it was time we discussed certain arrangements.”
“Arrangements,” she repeats, her tone cautious.
I lean forward slightly, resting my forearms on the desk. “Stella has explained your… connection to her. Your biological relationship.”
Sofia nods once, her expression guarded. “She has.”
“I’m willing to accept you as part of our family,” I continue, still neutral, all business. “Given your blood connection to Stella and my daughter.”
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