All Chapters of Doll: Chapter 11 - Chapter 19

The dinner was over. Thank God.Antonia stood up from the table and walked straight to Adrian. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his. I watched her hands slide up his chest. I watched her fingers curl into the fabric of his jacket."Call me," she whispered. Loud enough for me to hear.Adrian didn't hug her back. He just stood there with his arms at his sides. "Goodnight, Antonia."She pulled back and smiled. Then she looked at me. That same cold smile. That same dead eyes."Goodnight, Camilla."She walked away. Her hips swayed with every step. Oh how I hated her.Adrian's grandmother came over. She patted Adrian's cheek like he was five years old."When should she move in?" she asked. "The east wing is empty. She can stay there until the wedding, don't you think?"Adrian didn't answer. He just took my hand and pulled me toward the door."Goodnight, Grandma.""We'll talk tomorrow!"The door closed behind us.---The car ride was quiet. The city lights pa

I woke up in my own bed. The sheets were twisted around my legs. The morning light was gray through the curtains. My body ached in places I didn't want to think about. I stared at the ceiling and remembered everything. His hands. His voice. The way he'd watched me fall apart. I pressed my face into the pillow and stayed there until Dmitri knocked. "Breakfast," he said through the door. I got up. Put on a robe. Opened the door. Dmitri set the tray on the nightstand. Eggs. Toast. Orange juice. Same as every morning. He didn't look at me differently. Didn't mention last night. I was grateful for that. "The lessons start today," he said. "Etiquette. Manners. How to dress. Mr. Volkov wants you believable." I sat on the edge of the bed. Picked up my fork. "What kind of lessons?" "The kind that keep you from using the wrong fork at dinner." I ate my eggs. I didn't argue. --- The tutor arrived at noon. She was an older woman with gray hair and a face that didn't smile

was still sitting on his bed when the house went quiet enough that I could hear my own heartbeat.The shooting kept running on a loop in my head — the gunshots, the screaming, the way Adrian had shoved me behind that headstone and put his body between me and whatever was coming. I kept seeing him take a bullet. Kept seeing blood spreading through white fabric, even though I knew it hadn't happened that way. I couldn't get the images to stop no matter how many times I reminded myself they weren't real.What the fuck did he actually do? I didn't have an answer. I didn't even know where to start looking for one, and the not-knowing was making it hard to breathe.I got up because sitting still wasn't working anymore. I moved around the room, not really looking, just needing my hands and feet to do something. The furniture was dark, heavy, expensive in the way that doesn't announce itself. A closet full of suits. A window that looked out over the gardens, black now in the dark. A desk in t

was having breakfast in the kitchen, just scrambled eggs and toast, when Dmitri walked in and stood by the counter."Mr. Volkov has asked for you," he said. "His room."I put down my fork and wiped my mouth. "Now?""Yes."I didn't ask why. I just got up and walked out, because asking Dmitri questions was like talking to a wall, he never gave me anything.The hallway was quiet, my footsteps felt loud on the marble. I went up the stairs and down to Adrian's room, the door was half open and I could hear his voice inside. He was on the phone, and he didn't sound happy."No, it doesn't need to happen," he said. His voice was sharp, controlled, like he was trying not to yell. "I said it, so that's enough."A pause. Someone was talking on the other end, probably his grandmother, her voice was muffled but I could hear the sharpness."That should not be necessary," Adrian said. "I don't care what they insist."Another pause, longer this time. Then something changed, the person on the phone mu