I snatched the envelope, my breath hitching as I recognized the messy, slanted scrawl of my father's handwriting. I didn't dare open it in the open air of the library. I sprinted back to my room, the silk of my skirts hissing against the marble, and threw the bolt shut. I slid down against the wood of the door, my hands trembling so violently I nearly shredded the parchment.
Jessy, the letter began.
If you're reading this, I've already made the biggest mistake of my life. I thought I could play their game. I thought I could win our freedom. Instead, I've handed you a target.
The list isn't a piece of paper, Jessy. It's not a file. It's a legacy. They call it 'The Glass Ledger.' It contains the hidden accounts and sins of every man who ever shook hands with the Volkovs. Yuri doesn't want it to protect the empire; he wants it to burn it down. Do not trust him, Jessy. He didn't save you out of kindness. He saved you because you are the only one whose biometric data can open the digital vault where the Ledger is stored. You aren't his fiancé. You are his key. I'm sorry. Run.
The paper fluttered from my nerveless fingers.
The phantom heat of his touch, the way he had used his own body to shield me from a hail of lead, the diamonds he'd draped around my neck like a shimmering collar—it was all a calculation. I wasn't a "liability turned asset." I was a human password, a biological decryption tool with a heartbeat.
A heavy, measured knock sounded at my door.
"Jessy? It's Elena. Mr. Volkov is awake. He's asking for you in the study."
I looked at the letter, then at the brass key glinting on the floor. A cold, hard knot of fury tightened in my chest, replacing the fear. If Yuri wanted a key, I would give him one. But I was done being the victim in a story I hadn't asked to be written.
I stuffed the letter and the key into the hidden pocket of my robe and wiped the moisture from my eyes. I stood up, straightening my spine until it felt as rigid as the reinforced glass in the windows, and opened the door.
"Tell him I'm coming," I said, my voice as cold as the Atlantic spray hitting the cliffs below.
Phase one was over. The trap had snapped shut, but for the first time, I knew exactly where the teeth were.
The silence of the estate felt different as I walked toward the library—it wasn't peaceful; it was heavy, like the static air before a lightning strike. I found Yuri sitting by the window, the scent of old parchment and expensive floor wax filling the room. He didn't turn as I entered. He simply watched the horizon, his presence a cold front that chilled the back of my neck.
I realized then that he wasn't looking at a woman; he was looking at a vault he hadn't figured out how to crack without breaking.
"You're thinking of running," he said, his voice a low vibration that seemed to rattle the very books on the shelves. He finally turned, his gaze tracing the healing scar on my temple with a clinical intensity. "But where would you go, Jessy? The world outside thinks you're a ghost. And ghosts have nowhere to hide but the shadows I provide."
"Maybe I'm tired of the shadows, Yuri," I countered, stepping into the amber light of his desk lamp. "Maybe I'm ready to see what happens when the lights come on."
He stood up slowly, the black silk sling making him look like a wounded king, yet no less dangerous. "The light is where people get caught, Jessy. In the dark, you're mine. In the light, you're everyone's."
I looked at him, searching for a flicker of the man who had bled for me on that road, but all I saw was the architect of my cage. The war for the Glass Ledger had begun, and I was the only one who knew the vault was already starting to leak.