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THIRTY-SEVEN

SOPHIA

“ E lena?” I call out as I step into the clinic’s dark, empty lobby. My voice echoes slightly in the silence.

“Are you alone?” Her voice comes from somewhere deeper in the office, low and cautious.

“Yes,” I answer, hesitating.

After a moment, she steps out from the back room. I nearly gasp but catch myself. She looks like a shadow of the person I once knew—her frame skeletal, her skin pale with a sickly gray tinge. My chest tightens. What has she been through? I plant my feet, resisting the urge to rush toward her. I don’t know what she’s capable of—or if someone else is lurking in the shadows.

“Where’s the baby, Elena?” I ask, my voice steady, but my stomach churns.

“The baby is safe,” she says, her tone flat. “Being taken care of, away from all this mess.”

My shoulders sag with relief. It doesn’t even occur to me to ask who’s taking care of the baby—that’s her and Andrei’s problem for now.

Elena moves closer, extending a piece of paper toward me. I glance at her bony hand before taking it, careful to keep my distance.

“What is this?” I ask, looking at the paper. It’s a website URL with a username and password scrawled below.

She stares at me, her sunken eyes hollow and unreadable. “I don’t have anything against you or Maxim, Sophia. On the contrary, you’ve both been kind to me. But my baby is more important than either of you. I hope one day, you’ll forgive me for the part I played in all this.”

Her words send a chill down my spine. My pulse quickens as my mind races. What did she do?

She takes a step back, her eyes darting toward the door. Panic surges through me. I reach for Maxim’s spear gun, pull it from the waistband of my jeans, and point it at her.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I snap, my voice shaking despite my effort to steady it.

Elena freezes, her arms shooting up in surrender.

“Sit down,” I order, gesturing to a nearby chair with the gun.

For a moment, I think she might bolt, but then she moves slowly toward the chair and sits. Relief washes over me—at least I didn’t have to pull the trigger.

I take a deep breath, my grip tightening on the gun. “What is this?” I shake the paper at her with my free hand.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I was told to lure you out and bring you here, give you that paper.”

“Who told you to do that?” My palms are damp, and the gun feels heavier in my hand.

Elena hesitates, her frail shoulders curling inward. Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I think she’s going to stay silent.

“Who?” I repeat, sharper this time, bracing myself for her answer.

She exhales shakily, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Your sister.”

The words hit me like a slap. My mind blanks for a second, my body stiffening in disbelief.

“What?” I manage, my voice barely audible.

“It was your sister,” she says again, her tone firmer this time.

“No.” I shake my head. “That’s not possible.”

“I’m sure, Sophia.” Her voice rises, almost pleading. “I’m a hundred percent sure it was her. She’s been blackmailing me for over a year.”

Year?

My head spins. “No,” I whisper. “That can’t be true.”

“She’s been using me, threatening me,” Elena continues. “At first, she promised to help me escape my father’s control. That’s all I wanted—to be free. She told me to get close to Andrei and gather intel on his family. I was desperate, so I did it.”

I shake my head again, refusing to believe it. “Shut up.”

Elena flinches but presses on. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with him or to get pregnant. When I found out, I told her I was done. I blocked her number, but she found a way to reach me.” Her voice breaks. “She threatened to kill my baby if I didn’t do what she said.”

My hands tremble. I tighten my grip on the gun, pointing it back at her when she suddenly stands. “Sit down!” I bark, my voice cracking.

She freezes but doesn’t sit. “I didn’t have a choice, Sophia. I know what I did was unforgivable, but I had to protect my child. I did everything she asked, and I hated myself for it. I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

My vision blurs with tears as I lower the gun slightly, trying to make sense of her words. “Jenny wouldn’t do this,” I whisper, more to myself than to her. “She couldn’t.”

Elena’s lips press into a thin line. “She did,” she says, her voice trembling. “Jenny is a horrible person, Sophia. She’s the reason I was dragged into this nightmare. And she’s the reason my family’s falling apart.”

My legs buckle beneath me, and I grab the wall to keep from collapsing completely. My chest feels like it’s caving in, the weight of Elena’s words suffocating me. My stomach clenches violently, nausea rolling through me.

“She’s a horrible person,” Elena says, her voice cold and matter-of-fact, as if my entire world isn’t imploding around me.

“No, shut up. No, that’s not true. No, no, no.” The words burst from me in a scream, raw and desperate, like a child in the throes of a tantrum. “No,” I repeat, over and over, tears pouring down my face. “No.”

I don’t know if I’m screaming because I don’t believe her or because I do. Jenny is my sister. My blood. What could I have possibly done to make her hate me this much? To make her want to shatter my life into a thousand jagged pieces?

My body gives out, and I crumble to the floor, unable to hold myself up any longer.

“Why?” The question escapes in a broken whisper, one I don’t even realize I’ve spoken aloud until Elena answers.

“I don’t know why she’s doing this,” she says softly. “She never told me.”

I stare blankly at the wall, time slipping away as my mind spirals deeper into disbelief and anguish. It isn’t until Elena’s hand brushes my shoulder that I snap out of it. She’s offering me a bottle of water, her expression unreadable.

“No!” I shout, swatting it away. The bottle hits the floor, spilling its contents in a small puddle at my feet. My thoughts race. What if it’s drugged?

Gripping the gun with trembling hands, I point it at her again. “Sit down!”

She raises her hands in surrender then slowly sinks back into the chair without a word.

My breathing is ragged as I fumble for my phone in my pocket. With shaking fingers, I dial Maxim. No answer.

Panic claws at my chest as I try again. And again. Nothing.

I switch to Luca’s number, my hope dwindling with every unanswered ring. I try him once more, but when there’s still no response, the panic takes hold.

What if my sister got to them first?

Elena’s words echo in my mind, and my gaze darts to the paper she gave me. My hands scramble across the floor until I find it where I dropped it. I force myself up onto my knees, gripping the note like it’s a lifeline, and type the URL into my phone.

The screen turns black, two blank fields waiting for the username and password. My fingers hesitate then type in the information.

The website loads slowly, agonizingly so. When the video finally appears, my heart stops.

On the screen is a man tied to a chair. His head is covered with a black sack, his shirt ripped open, blood streaking his torso from deep, oozing gashes. My stomach twists violently, bile rising in my throat.

“Who is that?” I whisper to no one in particular, my voice cracking.

My eyes narrow, studying the details of his body—until they fall on the tattoo etched into his chest, just above his heart.

My name.

“No,” I gasp, the air sucked from my lungs. My tears come faster, blurring my vision as the memory crashes over me. The night Maxim got that tattoo plays vividly in my mind—the way he smiled at me, the way he told me it was for forever.

It’s him. Oh my God, it’s him.

My phone slips from my hands, clattering to the floor as a sob rips through me.