“I…” I swallow. “I want to do charity work.”

He raises a brow. “What?”

“You know, those organizations that serve homeless people food?”

“I know what charity work means, Lia. And you’re not doing it.”

I place a hand on his chest, my palm expanding on the hard ridges underneath. This is the first time I’ve initiated an affectionate touch first.

A low growl slips from his lips and his muscles ripple beneath my small hand, then he looks at me as if he wants to devour me.

I bask in the sensation of having this much effect on him. It might only be physical, but it’s still empowering all the same.

“I need to have a purpose after my accident, Adrian. And if I’m fighting a noble cause, I won’t feel like my days and nights are empty.”

He raises a brow. “Your nights are empty?”

My cheeks heat, recalling a recent memory of him tying me up to fuck me until I was spent. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. So why don’t you explain it to me?”

I sigh, opting to offer him a small fraction of truth even I don’t want to admit, but I know he’ll like. “After we finish having sex, I know I’ll spend the following day alone, and sometimes, I think about that all night long. That’s what I meant by empty nights.”

He pauses, and I believe he’ll shoot me down, but then he nods. “Fine. But I choose which organization.”

I smile, feeling the triumph of the win to my bones.

This is it. My chance to escape.

For a life as far away from Adrian as possible.

29

Lia

I get a sliver of freedom the following month.

It’s not much.

But Adrian keeps his word and allows me to be part of a shelter that serves homeless people warm food during the harsh days. We’re slowly heading to spring, but the air is still cold.

I look forward to the days I can get out without Adrian. Yan and Boris accompany me, but they mostly keep to themselves in the background.

When it’s just Yan and me, we share sandwiches for lunch and then I try to probe him about his boss, questions that he doesn’t answer. I should be used to it by now, but I’d rather talk to Yan than not talk at all.

It’s sad, but he’s basically the only friend I have. The other day, my feet came to a halt in front of a Giselle poster. The ballet is still being directed by Philippe and choreographed by Stephanie. Nothing has changed except for the prima ballerina, who’s now Hannah Max. Oh, and they changed Ryan for another dancer. No clue if he pulled out, and I have no will to get in touch with that part of my life anymore.

When I stared at that poster, it took everything in me not to cry. To force myself to turn around and not get caught up in how the world moved along and I didn’t.

I’m sure Philippe and Steph have tried to reach me, but we don’t belong to the same world anymore. They’re in the spotlight. I’m in a gilded cage. And if I attempt to get them involved in my life, I’ll put them in danger with Adrian.

“If it’s of any comfort”—Yan fell in step beside me after I ripped my gaze from the poster—“your Giselle is much prettier and more haunting than hers.”

I hated myself at that moment. Not because I disagreed, but because I wanted Adrian to say those words instead of Yan.

Shaking my head from the memory, I smile as I pour more soup for Mrs. Matthews, an old lady who likes her soup.

She grins at me, then escapes to the farthest table, spilling some of her soup on the floor.

The center where I volunteer is probably the biggest in New York, and we have several hundred homeless people who show up for meals.

I make Yan and Boris help, too. Something that Adrian disapproves of because, as he likes to remind me, they’re there to protect me, not serve food. Whatever. All they normally do is stand there and smoke. They’re better put to use serving food than doing nothing. Though they look a bit out of place with the white and blue aprons strapped around their suits.

They also don’t shy away from calling the homeless out on their bullshit when they steal. Especially Yan. I swear he has zero patience sometimes. When I asked him how the hell he gets along with Adrian and Kolya, he said he doesn’t most of the time and that they’re too ‘stoic’ for their own good. Then he asked me not to repeat that in front of his boss if his life means anything to me.

I motion at him that I’m taking a bathroom break. He abandons the soup, removes his apron, and throws it at Boris before he falls in step beside me.

“You don’t have to follow me everywhere, Yan.” I groan as I make my way through the tables with him hot on my heels.

“Yes, I do, or the boss will have my balls.”

I chuckle at that image. Adrian is really severe and his calm only adds to his ruthlessness. I’ve witnessed how he talks to his men, and although it’s in Russian, I can sense the authority.

“Glad to see you laugh, even at the expense of my misery,” Yan grumbles.

“You’re being dramatic. It’s not misery.”

“Have you seen him? Also, I’m still not okay that Kolya gets all the fun.”

“Isn’t he the senior guard?”

He scoffs. “Senior grump, maybe.”

I smile. Kolya is always giving Yan shit about smoking, and even though I don’t mind it, Yan has already stopped smoking in my company, because of the pregnancy, I assume.

He stops outside the bathroom door in his wide, ready stance and goes to open it.

“I can at least open my own door.” I motion at his twitching hand. “Go ahead, smoke until I come back.”

I can tell he wants to, but his caution is stopping him, so I take the decision away from him. I open the door wide, letting him see the empty bathroom. “See? No one is here.”

After Yan’s watchful gaze checks every corner, he finally nods.

I shake my head before going inside and closing the door.

As soon as I’m in a stall, a shadow follows behind me. I open my mouth to scream, but a gloved hand wraps around my mouth and uses my body to close the door.

“Miss me, Duchess?”

I breathe harshly against Luca’s palm. He’s wearing a black leather jacket and a hat that shadows his eyes. He slowly removes his gloved hand. “Whisper or he’ll hear.”