13. Annalise

13

ANNALISE

A s I step out of the shower, tendrils of steam curl around me like a ghostly embrace. Portia is there, waiting to attend to me. In a way, I feel like a princess, though the sensation is far from comforting given my current circumstances.

I didn’t think I’d see Portia again after our last encounter, but there’s something almost comforting about the familiar face. Almost.

This time, I don’t bring up my daughters, so it’s a lot less tense.

“Let me do that,” Portia says as I reach for the towel in her hands, attempting to dry me off.

“Thanks, but I can manage,” I reply firmly, taking the towel from her and wrapping it around myself. She doesn’t seem fazed by my naked body, and I wonder how many people she does this for.

I’m surprised to see a dress lying on the bed for me when I reach the bedroom. It’s gorgeous, a lot like the ones the women were wearing at the masquerade ball. “I’m getting this dolled up for a dinner?” I ask her.

She smiles. “Here the dinners are thought of as formal occasions, so everyone makes themselves look presentable.”

Weird.

“I’ll dress you.”

“I’ve never had someone dress me before.”

“You’ll enjoy it.”

I doubt that.

Portia dresses me, her fingers nimble as they fasten the buttons on the silk dress. I watch her work, noting how her hands tremble ever so slightly. She must be just as nervous as I am. As she starts curling my hair, I attempt to engage her in conversation.

“Is this what it’s like for you every day?” I ask, trying to gauge her feelings about this place.

“Uh, yes,” she mumbles, not daring to meet my gaze. Her responses seem abrupt and shallow, almost as if she’s afraid of saying too much. I would be too, considering what happened last time. I decide to try a different approach.

“Have you worked here long?”

“Long enough,” she replies evasively, focusing intently on my hair. I want to know more, but I don’t want to push her too hard.

She works on my makeup next.

The moment Portia steps back, signaling she’s finished with her work, I hesitantly turn to face the mirror. My breath catches in my throat as I take in the reflection staring back at me. The person in the mirror is a stranger—elegant and poised, exuding an air of sophistication I’ve never quite managed to achieve.

“Wow,” I whisper, reaching up to touch the soft waves that frame my face. My eyes, once smoldering emerald pools, now seem to glow with an intensity that both thrills and terrifies me. If this were any other time or place, I might have been excited about this transformation. But right now, all I want is to see my children.

“Come on,” Portia says, interrupting my thoughts. “I’ll take you downstairs.”

As we descend the grand staircase, I can’t help but marvel at the luxurious surroundings. It’s clear that no expense has been spared in the design and décor of this mansion. Crystal chandeliers hang from gilded ceilings, casting shadows that dance along the dark wood-paneled walls. Plush carpets muffle our footsteps as we move through the vast space, each room more extravagant than the last.

“Have you ever seen anything like this before?” I ask, unable to contain my awe.

“Never,” Portia admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I’ve been here for years.”

“Years?” I repeat, incredulous. “How do you do it? How do you survive in a place like this?”

“Sometimes, you don’t have much choice.” As she speaks, she wrings her hands together nervously. “But I get by. You learn to adapt.”

“Adapt,” I echo, the word bitter on my tongue. I’m not sure I have it in me to adapt to a life like this—a life governed by fear and secrets.

“Here we are,” Portia announces as we reach the bottom of the staircase and make it to the dining room. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever comes next. This is my first time leaving my room since I was brought here…maybe a week ago? Time seems to blur together in this place.

“Thank you, Portia,” I tell her sincerely, offering a small smile. If I’m going to stay here, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have an ally.

“Take a seat, Miss Tryst,” Portia says softly, gesturing to a chair at the head of the table. Hesitating for a moment, I lower myself into the plush, velvet-covered seat, feeling out of place in my lavish surroundings.

As if on cue, the heavy double doors at the end of the room swing open, revealing professional chefs carrying silver platters filled with mouthwatering dishes. The aroma wafts toward me, reminding me just how famished I am. It’s been far too long since I’ve had a decent meal, and my stomach growls in anticipation.

“Please, enjoy, Miss Tryst,” one of the chefs says, setting down a platter of succulent roasted duck, glazed with honey and oranges. Another follows, placing a dish of creamy lobster bisque before me.

“Thank you,” I manage to say, my voice barely audible, still unable to shake off my unease. I can’t help but wonder what’s expected of me in return for such luxurious treatment.

“Everything is prepared to your liking, I hope,” Portia says, offering a small smile as she stands by my side.

“Uh, yes, it looks wonderful,” I reply, trying to muster up some enthusiasm despite the underlying tension that courses through my veins. I take a bite of the duck, and its tender, juicy meat melts in my mouth like butter, followed by the rich, velvety bisque that warms me from within.

I told Nikhil that I would eat…and it’ll definitely be an easy task with this food.

“Do you want anything, Portia?” I ask between bites, realizing she’s been standing there watching me eat without having any food herself.

“No, Miss Tryst, I’m here to assist you, not partake,” she replies, her voice laced with a mix of deference and fear.

Right…she’s a maid. I’ve never been on the other side before.

“Please, call me Annalise,” I say, hoping to break down some of the barriers between us. “Is there anything I should know about…them?” I ask cautiously, trying to glean any information about the dangerous Volkov men.

Portia hesitates, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. “Just…be careful, Annalise,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “And remember, family means everything to them.”

Her words send a shiver down my spine, and I swallow hard, my appetite suddenly vanishing. Despite the lavish surroundings and the decadent meal laid out before me, all I can think about is my children and the lengths I’ll go to protect them.

The heavy double doors creak open as Nikhil and Cassius enter the dining room. They look imposing in their tailored suits, predatory gazes focused on me as they take seats on opposite sides of the table. My heart races, but I manage to keep my posture straight and my expression neutral.

“You’re excused, Portia,” Nikhil says, his voice silky smooth, like a snake’s hiss. Portia quickly leaves the room.

“Is everything to your liking?” Cassius asks, his blue eyes glinting dangerously beneath the dim chandelier light.

“Y-yes, thank you,” I reply, trying to steady my voice.

“Good.” He smiles, revealing a hint of amusement as he signals for one of the servants. “Bring us some wine.”

A bottle of expensive-looking red wine is quickly brought to the table, and Cassius pours himself a glass before offering it to me. I shake my head, declining the offer. “No, thank you. I don’t drink.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs, taking a slow sip of his own wine.

I can’t wait any longer to ask, “My kids…where are they?”

“Your children are under our protection,” Nikhil replies without missing a beat, his voice cold yet reassuring. “They’re in good hands.”

“Can I see them?”

“Patience, Annalise,” Cassius interrupts, setting his wine glass down with a sharp clink. “All in due time.”

I clench my fists under the table, trying to contain my frustration. I’ve been patient long enough, and I worry that with every passing moment, my daughters are slipping further out of reach. But for now, I must keep playing their game, biding my time until the opportunity to reclaim my life—and my children—arises.

“This is quite the secret you hid from us.” Cassius raises his chin at me. “They’re as much yours as ours.”

“I’d beg to differ,” I begin cautiously, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m the one who raised them.”

“Because you didn’t give us the chance.”

“I’ve given them my last name. They’re Trysts, not Volkovs.”

Nikhil’s piercing blue eyes lock onto mine, his expression unreadable. With deliberate slowness, he sets down his fork and leans back in his chair, exuding an air of dangerous calm. “We are well aware of that little detail, Annalise,” he replies, his baritone voice dripping with menace. “But do not worry, we will fix that soon enough.”

My blood runs cold at his words, and I feel a chill snake its way down my spine. I turn to Cassius, seeking some semblance of reassurance or support. “You promised you wouldn’t tell them,” I remind him, desperation creeping into my tone.

Cassius meets my gaze, his striking blue eyes devoid of warmth. “I told you that promise wouldn’t last long, Annalise. I can’t keep such a secret from my family.” He pauses, his voice dropping lower as he adds, “Family is the most important thing to us, more than any fleeting promise made to a stranger. Although, you’re hardly a stranger at this point.”

The weight of Nikhil’s gaze is heavy, his piercing blue eyes studying me as he delivers his next blow. “That’s why the kids will be staying here, and so will you.”

My heart clenches in my chest, and I can’t help but argue. “I’m not staying here with you,” I snap, defiance lacing my words.

Nikhil leans back in his chair, a smug grin on his face. “If you don’t want to stay, then you don’t have to. But your girls aren’t going anywhere.”

“Wh—what do you mean?” I stammer, feeling the room close in around me.

“We’ve already done a DNA test on the twins,” Cassius interjects, his voice cold and detached. “They’re Volkov princesses.”

Volkov princesses . The words echo through my mind like a haunting melody, and I feel bile rise in my throat. My daughters, reduced to pawns in their twisted game. Gripping the edge of the table, I force myself to stay calm, knowing that if I lose control now, I’ll be playing right into their hands.

“Listen,” I say through gritted teeth, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to steady it. “My children are not possessions for you to claim. They’re people, with their own lives and their own identities.”

“Of course they are,” Nikhil replies smoothly, his gaze never leaving my face. “But they’re also Volkovs, whether you like it or not. And as such, they belong here, with their family.”

“Family?” I snort, unable to suppress the bitter laughter that bubbles up inside me. “Is that what you call this? A family?”

“Blood is thicker than water, Annalise,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “And our blood runs in your daughters’ veins.”

“Does that mean you’ll protect them?” I ask, desperation creeping into my voice. “That you won’t let any harm come to them?”

“Of course,” Cassius chimes in, a hint of genuine sincerity in his tone. “We’d never let anyone lay a finger on those girls. They’re Volkovs, after all.”

“Like it or not, Annalise,” Nikhil says, a wicked glint in his eyes, “you’re one of us now. And there’s no escaping the Volkov family.”

“Who gives you the right to decide that?” I growl.

“Rights?” Cassius chuckles darkly, his cold blue eyes fixated on me. “In our world, power is everything, and we have it. You, on the other hand, are insignificant.”

A wave of helplessness washes over me, but I refuse to let it break me. I swallow the bitter lump in my throat, my resolve hardening. “So, what am I supposed to do now? Sit here and let you control every aspect of my life?”

Nikhil tilts his head thoughtfully, his icy gaze never leaving my face. “For now, you’ll continue to go to work as normal. You’ll see your daughters again when we deem it appropriate.”

I don’t like that answer, but at least I’ll get to see them again and know that they’re safe. I believe them when they say blood runs thicker than water. “Okay.”

“Once Damian returns from his business trip, we’ll discuss the situation further,” Nikhil answers, his tone indifferent. “But for now, you’d better get used to your new reality.”

They haven’t left me with much of a choice.