Alex kept a firm hold on my hand as we stepped out into the night, his fingers warm and unyielding around mine. He wore only a navy polo, the collar open at his throat, and for a fleeting, unguarded moment, I wondered if the evening air would give him a chill.
The thought startled me. How instinctive the concern was. How easily it slipped my defenses.
But he was Russian. The cold never would've been his enemy.
The street was nearly empty, washed in amber light from the lampposts that lined the old stone walls. I had always loved this part of the city. The way history pressed in from every side, heavy and alive, as if the past had never quite learned how to let go. Walking here, hand in hand with Alex, felt like I was stepping back into another life entirely.
I really would've been happy to live the rest of my life as Lara. An ordinary walking tour guide, leading strangers through these ancient streets, telling them stories of empires long gone. After all, that was how I had first met Alex. When he'd wandered into one of my tours and simply refused to leave. He simply followed. He listened. As if the stories I was telling mattered to him.
Maybe, if things hadn't turned out the way they were, we would've been a family by now.
"We used to do this too," he said quietly, his gaze fixed ahead, his voice threaded with something almost careful. "We'd walk these streets at night. Take the long way home. Just to feel the city breathe."
His grip on my hand tightened, barely perceptible. Less a gesture of affection than of grounding.
"I want you to come back to me, Lara," he said.
The words carried on by the wind like a confession whispered too late. Bare, desperate and irreversibly spoken.
I stopped walking.
That was it. I couldn't take another step forward, not when every step felt like I was sinking deeper into a life that was no longer mine.
I turned, pulling my hand free and found him already watching me. Those dark green eyes of his, all too knowing, too beautiful, searching my face as if he could will the truth out of me by force alone. His lips were slightly parted, his dark hair undone by the wind and for a cruel heartbeat, he looked exactly like the man I had once married.
The man I had loved without fear. Just like Lara, that version of Alex wasn't real.
A tear slipped before I could stop it.
Then another.
Then everything shattered.
"Stop it," I sobbed, shaking my head as the sound tore itself out of my chest. "Please. Just...stop it. I beg you. Stop what you're trying to do to me."
I cried openly now, the kind of crying that left no room for dignity, only the truth. My hands trembled as he moved toward me, instinctively, like he was trying to pull me back into him. To anchor me the way he always had in the past.
I pressed my palm against his chest, right over his beating hard, stopping him.
"Stop dragging me through the past," I said, my voice raw, breaking under its own weight. "I can't do this. I really can't."
My breath hitched as I looked up at him, forcing the words out even as they hurt us both.
"I'm not her. I'm not Lara. Why can't you understand that?" I whispered fiercely. "This is me. The woman standing in front of you now. The real me."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Thick with everything he refused to release.
His jaw was locked tight, a muscle ticking as he stared at me, as if sheer will might pull me back into the shape he wanted. There was something feral in his restraint, like he was holding himself together by force alone. I bet he was desperate to have his way with me, just like he did back in my old apartment, mere hours ago.
"I'm not as innocent as you remembered," I said sharply, the words cutting through the quiet before it could swallow us both. "Never was."
I turned and walked away, my steps quick and certain. I knew these streets heart. Every turn, every shadow.
"Where are you going?" he called, closing the distance in long strides. His hand caught my arm, fingers firm and possessive.
I wrenched free, refusing to look at him. "For a fucking walk," I snapped. "You have your men crawling all over this city like I'm a fugitive. I'm sure I'll survive."
He opened his mouth, but I didn't give him the chance.
"I won't run," I said over my shoulder. "You don't have to worry about that."
For a moment, as I walked, there was nothing but the sound of my footsteps against stone.
I was about to look back when I finally heard him.
"Good," he said calmly. "Just remember, your grandfather's life is still in my hands. All it takes is one mistake. One wrong move."
I flinched, instinctively folding my arms over my abdomen, but I didn't stop walking. Even when every step after felt like a countdown. I could still sense his gaze piercing on my back, heavy and unrelenting, following me even after I had put distance between us.
So I turned a corner, letting the street swallowed me whole. Stone and shadow closing in. All just to hide from his eyes.
I didn't slow until the noise of the street thinned. The stone alleys narrowing into something older, more private. A small opening in the wall appeared ahead. It would've been easy to miss, unless one would know where to look.
And I did.
The bar clung to the cliff like a secret. All rough stone and weathered stools, the Adriatic sea stretching endlessly below. It was beautiful, chaotic. One of my favorite places here.
I took a seat at the edge, the wind tugging at my hair, the salt sharp against my skin. Below me, waves crashed against the rocks with a violence, echoing the way I feel.
I didn't even bother looking back. I didn't need to. I could still feel his men, threading through the street behind me, dressed like tourists, pretending at normalcy. Every step I took was being watched, measured, reported back to their insufferable boss.
I wondered if they were already asking themselves the same question he would soon ask.
How did she know to come here?
My fingers curled around the edge of the stone. I had to move carefully. Every step of mine from now on had to look like instinct, not memory.
A soft laugh pulled my attention to the side.
A couple sat just a few stools away, their knees touching, bodies angled toward each other as if the rest of the world hadn't existed. The woman leaned into the man, brief and easy. While he bent toward her, murmuring something that made her smile.
It was simple. Pure.
Once, that had been us.
My chest tightened with longing.
The truth was, ever since my memories returned, I found myself missing him more. It was a if that part of me, Lara, had stirred awake, urging me to be more gentle with him. To love him the way she once had. Fiercely. Without restraint.
But whatever Alex believed he was saving, whatever love he thought he could drag back into light, it had already been tainted beyond repair. We both had crossed too many lines, committed too many unforgivable acts to pretend that there was still innocence left to reclaim.
Perhaps, there never had been.
Alex, however, was a stubborn man. He would only keep pushing, keep testing, until I could prove to him that even with my memories restored, my mind and heart hadn't returned to where he wanted it to be.
Because it hadn't.
I wanted the power my grandfather had once been willing to place in my hand. More, now than ever. Which is why I need my empire to remain intact. Despite all they've done, the things they've taken from me.
That, would be the one thing Alex could never take from me. My ultimate revenge.
I stood before doubt could take hold, slipping into the narrow streets without asking for help. Because I already knew the way home, and I was making it clear to his men. To him.
"You're home," Alex said the moment the lock clicked shut behind me.
Handsome. That was the first, unbidden thought that surfaced when I saw him standing there, framed by the doorway as if he belonged there. His green eyes wide, alight with something dangerously close to hope. Surprise parted his lips, making him look almost boyish, innocent.
"Yes," I said evenly, meeting his gaze as if everything was normal. "I told you I'd be safe."
He took a step closer now, slowly. "You knew the way back," he breathed.
"You remembered," he murmured, lifting my chin with his thumb, forcing my eyes to meet his green ones. His touch trembled, sightly.
The way he said it, it was like I was a miracle happening right before his eyes.