Chapter Seventeen: A Body That Remembers
The storm moved in slowly.
Not with lightning.
With stillness.
The kind of quiet that hangs just before a hard truth—waiting to strike.
The weather outside was warm, cloudless. But inside the villa, the tension was back. Not heavy. Not loud. But present.
Lena could feel it in the space between rooms.
In the way Nikolai’s footsteps didn’t echo quite as far. In the way the brushes in the studio remained untouched. In how he kissed her good morning with tenderness, but also restraint.
He was waiting.
For her to tell him what came next.
And she didn’t know.
Not because she didn’t feel anything.
But because what she felt… was dangerous.
**
That night, she couldn’t sleep.
The villa was dark, save for the faint candle still burning on her ni
