Chapter 5
1137 Words
Chapter 5: The Past Comes Knocking
(Violet’s POV)
I stare at the message from Boris until the words blur. My thumb hovers over the phone, torn between deleting it and replying. We need to talk. It’s important. His words echo in my mind. What could he possibly have to say after everything?
My doorbell rings, startling me. My heart leaps into my throat as I glance toward the door. It’s late, and I’m not expecting anyone. For a split second, I wonder if Boris is bold enough to show up unannounced.
Taking a deep breath, I approach the door and peek through the peephole. Relief and dread flood me at once when I see Silver standing there, looking as composed as ever.
I open the door, forcing a smile. “Silver. It’s late. What are you doing here?”
He steps inside without waiting for an invitation, his sharp gray eyes scanning my apartment. “I needed to check on you. You left dinner earlier than I expected.”
“I was tired,” I say, closing the door behind him. “It’s been a long week.”
He narrows his eyes, studying me. “You’re lying.”
I freeze. “Excuse me?”
“You’ve been distracted,” he says, stepping closer. His tone is calm, but there’s an edge to it. “I can see it in your eyes, Violet. You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”
I swallow hard, trying to keep my composure. “I’m not thinking about Boris. Why would I?”
Silver tilts his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “Because you still care about him. Don’t deny it.”
“I don’t care about him,” I snap, my voice rising. “He betrayed me, remember? He’s the reason we’re doing this in the first place!”
Silver raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by my outburst. “Good. Keep that energy. You’ll need it.”
I glare at him, frustration boiling inside me. “Is that all you came here for? To interrogate me?”
“No,” he says simply. “I came to remind you of what’s at stake. We’re not just playing a game, Violet. This is a war. And if you’re not ready to fight, you’ll lose everything.”
His words hit harder than I expect. “I know what’s at stake,” I say quietly.
“Do you?” he asks, his voice softening slightly. “Because if Boris gets to you, if he finds a way to pull you back, it’s over. Not just for you, but for me too.”
I stare at him, his usually composed expression tinged with something I can’t quite place. Fear? Vulnerability? Whatever it is, it unsettles me.
“I won’t let him pull me back,” I say firmly, though the words feel hollow.
Silver watches me for a moment, then nods. “Good. I’ll hold you to that.”
He turns to leave, but pauses at the door. “One more thing. If he contacts you again, tell me.”
I nod, but the lie sits heavy on my chest as I watch him leave. As soon as the door closes, I sink onto the couch, my head in my hands.
What am I doing?
I glance at my phone again, Boris’s message still glowing on the screen. Against my better judgment, I type a response.
What do you want, Boris?
The reply comes almost instantly.
Meet me tomorrow. Café Blanc. Noon.
My stomach churns. Meeting him feels like a terrible idea, but curiosity gnaws at me. What could he possibly have to say?
---
The next day, I sit in the corner of Café Blanc, my hands wrapped around a cup of coffee that’s long gone cold. The place is busy, the hum of conversations and clinking dishes filling the air, but I barely notice. My eyes are fixed on the door, waiting for Boris to walk in.
When he finally appears, my breath catches. He looks the same—too much the same. His confident stride, the slight smirk tugging at his lips, the way his eyes scan the room until they land on me.
“Violet,” he says, his voice smooth as he slides into the seat across from me. “You look... radiant.”
I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest. “Cut the flattery, Boris. What do you want?”
He leans back, studying me with a smirk. “Straight to the point. I always liked that about you.”
“Boris,” I warn, my patience already wearing thin.
“Fine,” he says, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I wanted to see you. To talk. I’ve been thinking about us—about what happened.”
“There is no ‘us,’” I say sharply. “Not anymore.”
His smirk falters for a moment, and I see a flicker of something genuine in his eyes. Regret, maybe? But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.
“I made a mistake,” he says, his voice quieter now. “I messed up, Violet. I know that. But I can’t stop thinking about you. About us.”
I laugh bitterly. “You should have thought about that before you kissed your assistant.”
He winces, but doesn’t deny it. “You’re right. I was an i***t. But I’m here now, trying to make things right.”
I stare at him, my mind racing. Part of me wants to believe him, to give him another chance. But the other part remembers Silver’s words. If Boris gets to you, it’s over.
“This isn’t about making things right,” I say finally. “You’re just jealous. You saw me with Silver, and now you can’t stand it.”
His jaw tightens. “Silver’s not who you think he is, Violet.”
I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He’s dangerous,” Boris says, leaning forward. “He’s not just some rich guy playing games. He has his own agenda, and trust me, it’s not about you.”
I feel a chill run down my spine. “You don’t know anything about him.”
“I know enough,” he says firmly. “And so do you, deep down. Tell me, Violet, can you really trust him?”
His words hit too close to home, and I hate that they do. “This conversation is over,” I say, standing up abruptly.
“Violet—”
“Goodbye, Boris,” I say, cutting him off as I walk away.
But as I step outside into the crisp afternoon air, his words linger in my mind.
Can you really trust him?
I don’t know. And that scares me more than anything.
- Writer
