Chapter 8
Zoya found her in the garden three days later.
Alina was cutting roses for the dining room table. The morning was cold, the sky low and gray, the frost still clinging to the grass. She had her basket over one arm and the pruning shears in her hand.
She heard the footsteps on the gravel path. She didn’t turn around.
“You’re a clever girl,” Zoya said. “I’ll give you that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play stupid. It insults both of us.”
Alina cut a rose. Added it to the basket. “I’m a maid. I clean the house. I cut the flowers. That’s all.”
Zoya circled her slowly. Her red coat was buttoned to the chin. Her heels sank into the soft ground.
“I’ve known Damon for a long time,” she said. “Longer than you’ve been alive, probably. I know what he looks like when he’s interested in something. And I know what he looks like when he’s invested.”
She stopped in front of Alina.
“You’re a distraction. A pretty one, I’ll admit. But a distraction nonetheless. And distractions in this world get people killed.”
Alina met her eyes. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s a fact. The people who want Damon dead are not going to care that you’re just a maid. They’re going to see you as a weakness. And they’re going to exploit you.”
“Then I’ll have to make sure I’m not a weakness.”
Zoya’s smile was thin and cold. “You can’t help what you are, sweetheart. You’re a maid. You clean floors. You carry trays. You’re not built for this world.”
“Neither were you, once.”
Zoya’s smile flickered. Just for a moment. Then she turned and walked back toward the house, her heels clicking on the stone path.
Alina stood in the garden, the basket of roses in her hand, and felt the cold settle into her bones.
That night, she told Damon about the conversation.
They were in his room. The door was locked. The fire was burning. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, and he was standing at the window, his back to her.
“She’s right,” he said.
“She’s trying to scare me.”
“She’s telling the truth. The people who want me dead will use you to get to me. That’s what Zoya is here to do — to find the weakness and report back.”
“Then let me help you.”
He turned. “Help me how?”
“I know this house. I know the staff. I know when someone doesn’t belong. Let me be your eyes where you can’t be.”
He crossed the room and knelt in front of her. His hands found hers.
“Alina, if I let you into this world — if I let you become part of it — there is no going back. You understand that?”
“I understood that the night I locked your door.”
He looked at her for a long moment. Then he reached into the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a small velvet box.
“I was going to wait,” he said. “I was going to give you time to change your mind. But after what Zoya said, I realized that waiting is a luxury neither of us has.”
He opened the box. Inside was a ring. Simple. Silver. A single stone that caught the firelight.
“This is a Vulkoff family ring. It’s been in my family for four generations. It doesn’t mean we’re engaged. It means you’re under my protection. Anyone who sees this ring knows that harming you is harming me.”
He looked up at her.
“I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m asking you to let me protect you. Will you wear it?”
She held out her hand.
He slid the ring onto her finger. It was warm from being in the box, close to his skin. It fit perfectly.
“Yes,” she said.
He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
“Thank you.”
“Thank me by staying alive.”
“I intend to.”
She wore the ring the next morning. She didn’t hide it. She let it catch the light as she poured coffee, as she carried trays, as she moved through the house.
Zoya saw it at breakfast. Her eyes went to the ring, then to Alina’s face, then to Damon’s. She said nothing. But her smile was gone.
The guards noticed. Mrs. Petrova noticed. Sloan noticed.
May you like
The invisible maid had become visible.
And for the first time in two years, Alina did not want to disappear.
