Page 72 of Savage Vows

It’s too much. I blink hard, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry, but the tears are already there. I choke out, “Go to hell.”

He smiles—triumphant, satisfied. “That’s where all of us end up, one way or another.”

I push past him, nearly running. I don’t look back. I make it to my room, slam the door, and finally let the tears fall, hating how much his words hurt, hating how small and exposed I suddenly feel in this house.

I barely make it to my room before the tears spill over. I shut the door behind me, lock it, and let myself collapse onto the narrow bed. The sheets are still cool and untouched, so different from the mess I left behind in the library.

I curl up small, pressing my knees to my chest, trying to swallow the sobs that shake my whole body. Sergei’s words echo in my head—distraction, replaceable, whore—burning deeper than I want to admit.

For a long time, I just let myself cry. Not for Sergei, not even for myself, but for every piece of hope I’ve tried to hold on to in this house. For every time I thought maybe, just maybe, I could belong here.

And then, in the quiet that follows, it all suddenly clicks into place.

The looks. The whispers. The way the marriage happened so quickly, as if any Petrova bride would do. The way his family barely bothered to pretend otherwise.

It’s for revenge.

Dante didn’t care which sister he married. None of them did. This was never about me—it was about payback. A way to humiliate the Petrovs for what my grandfather did to theirs. That’s why I’m here. That’s all I am.

I bury my face in the pillow and cry until I can’t breathe, until my chest aches and my eyes sting. When the tears finally stop, I’m left with nothing but a raw, bitter emptiness—and a hard new edge inside me that wasn’t there before.

For the first time, I know exactly where I stand in this house.

And it hurts more than anything Sergei could ever say.

I lie on my side, clutching the pillow, eyes swollen and hot. I feel emptied out—like I’ve lost something I’ll never get back. My virginity, yes, but more than that. The hope that any of this was real. That Dante might actually care.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. For a moment I almost don’t answer, but the name flashing on the screen pulls me up short:Julianne.

I swipe at my eyes, wiping away fresh tears, and force myself to pick up. All I’ve wanted since I got to the city is to find her. But now that I know the truth about certain things, I can’t help but be resentful.

“Hey,” Julianne says, her voice soft, almost uncertain. “Are you alone now?”

I swallow, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Yeah. I am. Are you still in the city?”

“Yeah, Luka is taking care of me,” she says.

“That your boyfriend?” I ask.

“Yeah, did Mom tell you?”

I nod even though she can’t see me.

“Adriana, I’m sorry,” she says.

I take a steadying breath. “Are you okay? Are you lying low? Because Dad’s men are looking all over the city for you. And so are the Volkovs.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re careful,” Julianne says.

There’s a pause on the line, heavy with things neither of us can say. Then Julianne sighs. “Can we meet? I really need to see you, Adi.”

My heart clenches. I think of the way everything feels right now, dangerous, raw, like the walls are closing in. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say, voice cracking. “Not right now.”

She hesitates. “Are you okay?”

I want to lie, say yes, but the words stick. Instead, I just press the phone to my ear, letting her quiet breathing fill the silence. For a moment, that’s all I have—the echo of someone who knows me, waiting on the other end, while everything else falls apart.

She doesn’t hang up right away. There’s a shaky breath on the line, and then she says, “I know you got married to him. Adi, it’s all my fault.”