Heart of Stone - Stone and Fire #1 [17+] (REWRITING)

Chapter 23

not me blushing and giggling writing this 🤭🤭

enjoyyy mwah 😘

Adriana's POV

I pushed the untouched piece of steak around my plate, the bloody juice seeping out looking more and more like a open wound's leftovers. The sunset's oranges and purples streamed through the kitchen windows, but the warmth barely reached me.

I wasn't really hungry—hadn't been for the past two days—but routine kept me anchored, staring at food I couldn't bring myself to eat. My appetite had always been huge for some reason, but the longer I walked through these dark, shadowy corridors, the less my gut craved food.

Polina bustled in, her footsteps light yet purposeful, a tea towel draped over her shoulder. I felt her eyes nag on my full plate.

"Eating twenty-four hours before the wedding is a Russian superstition for a happy marriage."

Ha. Very funny.

Her accent softened the words, but the worry behind them was sharp. She had that motherly way about her, always tiptoeing around questions she already knew the answers to.

I laid down my fork and gave her a look. "Marriage. Happy. Me?" The thought of tomorrow reintroduced a bitter taste on my tongue from the coffee just hours ago.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if weighing whether to push. "Seems like you need some fresh air. Get the jitters out before walking down the aisle, hm?" It was her usual 'No attitude with me,' tone.

I barely registered what she said, though, my thoughts already drifting. The buzzing of my phone sliced through the fragile peace, yanking me back to reality.

Nikolas.

My chest tightened as I saw his name light up the screen. Just his presence in those few pixels sent a wave of tension rippling through me. Even when he wasn't physically near, he managed to suffocate me—like he was always watching, always in control. I didn't need to open the message to know it'd be something cold, precise, like him. A reminder? A demand? Whatever it was, it was never just a text—it was a leash, yanking me back to where he wanted me.

My thumb hovered over the screen, but I couldn't bring myself to open it. Instead, I locked the phone and slid it face down on the table. "I'm going downstairs," I said quietly, my voice tighter than intended.

Polina watched me, a flicker of pity in her eyes, but she didn't say anything as she started clearing the dishes. The clatter of porcelain felt distant, muffled by the rush of thoughts crowding my head.

I stood and walked out of the kitchen, each step heavier than the last. The library was the only place where I could be alone—or at least pretend to be. Because there, in a place so shrouded by thoughts and phrases, it had to be impossible for his shadow to follow me. Besides, he was the last person to show up there.

I hobbled down the dusty steps and into the dimly lit room, the rough wood under my feet giving me a comfort I never would've expected from any other part of this house.

I decided to walk to the same shelf I did last, the one holding a book with the dried rose held up in its pages.

"Adriana?"

Polina's voice bled into the room from the top of the stairs.

"Yeah?"

"I'm heading out, da?"

The overhead lights flickered.

"Alright. See you tomorrow! Or- wait. Day after tomorrow!"

When I'll be Mrs. Volkov.