Chapter 34 Marlena
I pushed him away hard, my palms flat against his chest.
He stumbled back a step, surprise flickering across his face.
"What the hell was that for?" My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I didn't care.
My lips still burned from the kiss. My heart still raced and I hated that my body had responded, had kissed him back for even a second.
Nikolai straightened, adjusting his shirt where my hands had wrinkled it.
His expression smoothed back into that careful mask he wore so well.
"We have to look real," he said simply. "For everyone. Starting now."
"There's no one here." I gestured around the empty suite. "No cameras. No audience. Just us."
"We need to practice."
"Bullshit."
His jaw tightened, but he didn't argue.
I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the warm Monaco air drifting through the open balcony doors.
"Don't do that again," I said, my voice shaking. "Don't touch me unless it's absolutely necessary for the performance."
"Marlena –"
"I mean it, Nikolai." I stepped back, putting more distance between us. "You don't get to kiss me just because you feel like it. You don't get to touch me whenever you want and pretend it means something."
His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
"We're not really married," I continued, my voice rising. "This isn't real. You made sure of that. So don't –" My breath caught. "Don't kiss me like it means something when we both know it doesn't."
"Marlena –"
"We have to look real for everyone," I cut him off, throwing his words back at him. "That's what this is about, right? The performance?"
"Yes." The word came out flat, emotionless.
I laughed, but it sounded bitter and poisonous.
"Of course. Everything's a performance with you." I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the warm Monaco morning. "Tell me something, Nikolai. The photo I found in your study. Elena and Dmitri. Moscow, 1995."
His entire body went still.
The color drained from his face like I'd physically struck him.
"What about it?" His voice was carefully controlled, but I heard the tension underneath.
"You knew." My voice shook despite my efforts to keep it steady. "You knew our families were connected. You knew my mother and your father had history. That's why you chose me, isn't it? Not just because of Viktor. Because of her."
The silence that filled the suite was suffocating.
Nikolai's face had turned to stone, every emotion locked behind that cold mask he wore so well.
"Answer me," I demanded, my voice rising. "You knew about my mother and your father. You knew they had some kind of relationship. And you never said a fucking word."
"Marlena –"
"Don't." I stepped back, putting space between us. "Don't you dare say my name like that, like any of this matters to you beyond your revenge."
His jaw clenched. "You don't understand –"
"Then explain it to me!" My voice cracked, rising. "Explain why my mother's photo was in your study. Why she was with your father in Moscow in 1995. Why you've been lying to me about everything since the day we met."
"It's complicated—"
"Bullshit!" The word exploded out of me. "Everything with you is complicated or classified or none of my business. I'm so fucking tired of your secrets, Nikolai!"
"You don't understand yet." His voice dropped low, dangerous. "You don't know the whole story."
"Then tell me!" I was shouting now, months of rage and fear finally breaking free. "Tell me why my mother knew your father. Tell me why you really married me. Tell me the fucking truth for once in your life!"
His jaw clenched, but he said nothing.
Just stood there, staring at me with those grey eyes that gave nothing away.
His jaw clenched. "You know why."
"Do I?" My voice rose. "Because every time I think I've figured it out, I find another piece of the puzzle that makes everything worse. My mother knew your father. They were lovers, weren't they? Partners? Something more?"
His face went stone-still.
"You don't understand yet," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
"Then explain it to me!" I was shouting now, months of fear and confusion and rage finally breaking free. "Tell me the truth for once in your goddamn life!"
"The truth would destroy you."
"I'm already destroyed!" The words ripped out of me. "You've taken everything! My freedom, my life, my choices. The least you can do is tell me why!"
Nikolai's face went still, frozen like stone.
The room fell silent except for my ragged breathing.
I waited for him to tell me the truth and to finally give me some goddamn answers.
Instead, he said nothing.
I slapped him, hard.
My palm connected with his cheek with a crack that echoed through the suite.
His head barely moved.
He didn't fight back or grab my wrist or push me away.
He just stood there, taking it.
Blood welled up on his lip where it had split against his teeth.
It ran down his chin in a thin red line, and he didn't even wipe it away.
"Say something!" I screamed. "Tell me the truth for once in your goddamn life!"
He looked at me with eyes that held too much – pain, guilt and maybe regret but he said nothing.
He just stared at me with that blood on his lip and silence between us.
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't stand to look at him for another second.
I turned and ran.
The bathroom door slammed behind me, and I twisted the lock with shaking hands.
Then I slid down to the floor, my back against the cool tile.
The sobs came hard and ugly, tearing through my chest like they might break me apart.
I pressed my hands over my mouth, trying to muffle the sounds, but they kept coming anyway.
Everything hurt. My chest. My throat. My hands from hitting him but none of it compared to the betrayal that burned through every nerve.
I wiped my face with shaking hands, but more tears just replaced the ones I'd cleared.
Outside the door, I heard nothing.
No footsteps. No voice calling my name.
Just silence.
I leaned my head back against the tile and closed my eyes.
My body shook with the aftermath of crying, exhausted and empty.
I felt betrayed all over again.