𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐢𝐦

TWENTY

"Be the first who ever did."

20

The room buzzed with hushed conversations, the sharp scent of expensive cologne lingering in the air. Black Armani suits, tailored perfectly, surrounded the room in strategic clusters—eyes flicking between each other, the atmosphere tense with a mix of business and unspoken power. I stood on the balcony, dressed in the black Saint Laurent dress that had been left on my bed for me, a gift from Reign, no doubt, though I didn't feel like being part of this display tonight.

My eyes drifted below, where Reign was crouched beside an older man, his back straight despite the cane he leaned on. The man was handsome, silver streaking through his gelled hair, with tattoos inked across his fingers. He had a presence, calm and commanding in a way that made even the well-dressed crowd seem secondary.

This must be the Gusev family, I realized, remembering Amaya's mention from yesterday. I couldn't bring myself to care. I didn't want to meet them—not tonight, not when I felt like I was drowning in my own emotions, trapped between worlds I didn't belong in. I felt the weight of my thoughts pressing on me, my energy drained as if each breath was getting harder to take.

Last night, Reign had wrapped his arms around me when he came to bed late. It felt comforting at the time, but now, it seemed like just another fleeting moment in the chaos of our lives. He'd slipped out before I woke, as usual.

I'd learned to read him over the months, to sense the difference between the moments when he was teasing me, when his eyes sparkled with amusement as he touched me, and when the heat of his anger simmered beneath the surface. It was like walking on a razor's edge, never knowing which version of him I'd face in any given moment. And tonight, I could feel the distance between us, the heavy tension that hung in the air, as I stood here alone, watching his every move from afar.

I was taking pills to execute my fetus behind his back, can you even begin to imagine the monster I've created?

A light touch on my back made me jump, "sorry, sorry!" Stassie whispered with worry.

I rolled my eyes but couldn't suppress a small grin. "I still can't believe your staying in this country with me."

She shrugged, her smile wicked. "Why not? Life's too short to be stuck in the same place. And, besides," she glanced down at the crowd below, her eyes scanning for Reign, "sometimes the riskier the move, the more fun it gets."

I couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and disbelief. Stassie lived in a world of constant reinvention, where every decision seemed like a game. She made it look easy.

"So, you're telling me you literally followed me here for no reason other than to make sure I don't crash and burn?" I raised an eyebrow, half mocking, half curious.

Her smile softened just a bit. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Amina. I see something in you—besides just being another pretty face. I'm here to make sure you don't lose yourself in all of this." She gestured vaguely at the room, at Reign, at the world around us.