Nikolai felt absolutely nothing–no joy, no sorrow, just this vast, echoing emptiness where his soul used to be. His heart was completely empty.
Standing at the top of his empire, looking out at the Manhattan skyline he’d conquered, he suddenly felt tired of it all. Bone–deep, existential exhaustion. What was the point without her?
He transferred all his assets to Veloura, hoping she could live without worry. Every asset, every company, every investment–all signed away through shell corporations and international banks. He gave his assistant a generous severance package for early retirement.
“You’ve been loyal. Time for you to actually live.”
Looking at everything familiar around him, he thought of Veloura again–her scarred back, her despair, her cold indifference.
He realized he hadn’t been punished yet.
He stripped off his shirt, picked up a cane, and began beating himself mercilessly. The first blow across his back nearly dropped him to his knees. Each strike used his full strength, quickly leaving him bloody and raw.
‘Little beggar, I’m sorry,” he whispered to the empty room. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
‘Little beggar, I love you. I never stopped loving you.”
He punished himself while apologizing to Veloura, beating himself until he passed out from blood loss. Woke up in a pool of his own blood and did it again.
He couldn’t stay in New York another day without her.
Dragging his wounded body and what remained of his sanity, Nikolai set out to retrace every path he’d walked with Veloura, collecting pieces of their ost happiness. Each location was a fresh kind of torture, but he couldn’t stop. This was his penance.
Meanwhile in Germany, Veloura had successfully opened her studio, teaching children and adults to play violin. For the first time since she was ifteen, she felt genuinely happy–not the manic happiness of trying to please someone, but the quiet contentment of being exactly who she was.
Her new violin was one Marlon had found for her–it felt comfortable in her hands.
As a thank–you gift, she gave Marlon a watch.
she’d always thought Marlon was unemployed, but later discovered he was actually heir to the Vanderbilt family fortune. The Vanderbilts had once >een more powerful than the Virellics, but they’d chosen to immigrate and move all their business overseas.
None of that mattered to her. She simply considered Marlon a friend. Marlon never pressured her, just quietly stayed by her side–healing in human
orm.
Life grew sweeter with each passing day, and she finally emerged completely from the shadows of her past.
he heard about Nikolai again on a quiet afternoon while sitting in her garden, drinking coffee and enjoying the sunshine.
Vikolai’s lawyer walked in, clutching a briefcase like a shield, and handed her a document.
Mr. Virellic is dead. He left you everything. These are the papers.”
der coffee cup didn’t even tremble. “Okay.”
‘Please donate it all. Establish a foundation to help children and women in need. May there never be another little beggar in this world.” Veloura took 1 sip of coffee and spoke with steady hands.
The lawyer pulled out a thick photo album and placed it on the table. “This is from Mr. Virellic. He retraced every path you two had walked together, searching for your memories. He fell off a cliff trying to retrieve this album.”
The lawyer sighed and left, shaking his head at the strangeness of rich people. Before he’d even exited the garden, he saw Veloura pick up the album
1716
Go Play Your Duet with Your Mistress: My Life’s Melody is Going Solo on My Own
13.4
Chapter 22
and drop it in the trash bin.
She didn’t need his version of their story. She’d written her own ending, and it was beautiful.
Even until Nikolai’s death, she wouldn’t forgive him.
Veloura’s expression never changed throughout. After finishing her coffee, she stood up and returned to her room.
That evening, as she tucked Selina into bed after their lesson, the little girl asked, “Miss V, you seem different today, Sad?”
“Not sad, sweetheart, Just… free.”
Later, alone in her room, Veloura allowed herself one moment of acknowledgment.
“Goodbye, Nikolai,” she whispered to the darkness. “I hope you found peace.”
May we never meet again in any lifetime.
Then she turned off the light and slept better than she had in months.
Because some chapters end with forgiveness, and some end with freedom.
This was the latter.
And that was enough.
17:16
