14. Annalise

14

ANNALISE

T he brothers kept their word about one thing, and that was letting me return to work. Leaving the house brought a sense of normality back into my life. It turns out I was stuck in that room for over a week while they debated what to do with me.

Of course, I still think about my girls constantly, but knowing they’re safe…it helps.

I should have been fired for not coming into work for so long, but I’m guessing the brothers had a role in that.

I leave the mansion in the morning before the sun comes up to walk to work. It’s the only time where I feel like I’m not being watched and even then…that might not be the case.

“Annalise!” Stewart barks as I enter the office. “You’re late.”

Does it matter? It’s not like they’ll let him fire me.

“Sorry, sir,” I mutter, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He waves me off, too preoccupied with his own affairs to give me much thought. I take a deep breath and head to my desk, determined to focus on the tasks ahead.

My job isn’t hard, and it keeps my thoughts busy which is all I can ask for.

“Hey, Anna,” a coworker calls out. “Got a minute?”

“Sure,” I reply, feigning enthusiasm. As they rattle off questions about an upcoming project, I nod along, though my thoughts remain elsewhere.

Once I’m alone again, I open my email inbox and am greeted by a flood of panicked messages from Sienna, each one more urgent than the last.

Annalise, please call me as soon as you can.

Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you in days.

Please, I need to know you’re safe.

I feel my chest tighten as I read her words, guilt and fear swirling together into a nauseating mix. Sienna must be terrified, and I haven’t done anything to ease her worries. What kind of friend am I?

I begin to type, my fingers moving quicker than they ever have before, as the truth pours out. Once I’m finished, my mouse hovers over the “send.” I’ve always told Sienna everything, but is it safe?

How do I explain that I’m allowing myself to be held captive…complying so I can see my daughters again?

She’d never understand.

Maybe I could just call, let her hear my voice even if I can’t explain everything.

“Where’s my damn phone?” I mutter under my breath, searching through my purse. My heart drops when I remember that Cassius still has it. Any chance of a quick call to ease Sienna’s fears is gone.

I sigh. I’ll answer her later, once I figure out what to say.

“Annalise, have you finished those reports yet?” my boss calls from his office, his impatience evident in his tone.

“Almost, sir,” I reply, trying to sound composed, as I close Sienna’s email and pull work back up.

I glance at the date displayed on my computer screen and feel a sudden pang in my chest. Has time really moved that fast? Today is the anniversary of my sister Mikayla’s death. How could I have forgotten?

Mikayla and I had always been close, but the year before she died, she started acting weird and pushing me away. And I could never forget the last interaction we had.

The wind whips my long wavy hair across my face as I stand in front of Mikayla’s house, my heart hammering against my chest. She’s been acting so off lately, and I can tell something’s wrong. If there’s anything I can do to help, I want to. I raise my hand and knock firmly on the door.

“Come on, Mikayla,” I whisper under my breath, fidgeting with the hem of my blouse.

She’s been avoiding me more lately too, but I know for a fact she’s home because her jeep is parked in front of the house.

The door creaks open, revealing a nervous-looking Mikayla with darting eyes that avoid meeting mine. My stomach twists into knots at the sight of her, concern gnawing at my insides. “Annalise,” she breathes, her voice unsteady. “I-I can’t talk right now.”

I step forward, blocking Mikayla’s path and forcing her to face me while I step into the house. “No, we need to talk,” I insist, my voice filled with urgency. “I can’t stand by and watch you like this. What’s wrong?”

Her body tenses like a coiled spring, and she attempts to sidestep me, but I’m faster. My hand shoots out, gripping her arm gently but firmly, refusing to let her escape.

“Please, Mikayla,” I plead, looking into her eyes—searching for the sister I know and love. “You don’t have to go through this alone. Whatever it is, I can help.”

This timid person isn’t my sister. Mikayla has always been strong-willed, but lately she’s nothing but a shell of who she used to be.

Her gaze darts away from mine, her lips pressed together in a thin line. “You don’t understand, Annalise,” she snaps, trying to pull her arm free from my grasp. “This is my life, and I can handle it.”

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” I ask, my voice wavering. “Because you’re handling everything so well?”

“You’re a kid, Anna.” She rips her arm from my grip and pushes the front door open, stepping outside with me following right after her.

The suns casts dappled shadows on Mikayla’s face. I gasp, my eyes widening at the sight of a bruise on her cheek, partly hidden by her disheveled hair.

“Who did this to you?” I demand. “I’ll kill them.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Mikayla, this isn’t okay! None of this is okay. Tell me, Mikayla. Who hurt you?” I persist, my heart hammering in my chest as I imagine the worst possible scenarios.

“Stop it,” she hisses, her chin trembling with the effort to keep her composure. “It’s none of your business.”

“None of my business? You’re my sister! If someone is hurting you, then it’s absolutely my business.” My hands shake with barely suppressed fury, my protective instincts flaring to life. “It’s that new boyfriend of yours, isn’t it?”

She’s been secretive about her new boyfriend ever since the two started dating. I’ve been trying not to think the worst of him, but…what else could it be?

Mikayla whirls around, her voice sharp as a knife. “Shut up, Annalise. He loves me, okay?”

My heart clenches at her words, a familiar ache settling in my chest. I know all too well the danger of confusing love with something much darker. My brows furrow, and I force myself to remain calm, steady but firm. “Mikayla, remember what Mom went through? You would think you’d be able to separate love from abuse.”

She hesitates, her jaw clenching as if she’s holding back a storm of emotions. But her stubbornness wins out, and she shakes her head. “It’s not like that,” she insists, her voice quivering. “So how about you stop talking about something you don’t know anything about.”

As my sister turns away from me, locking a final barrier between us, I can feel the darkness closing in. It wraps around my heart like a cold embrace.

Mikayla reaches for the car keys in her pocket, trying to escape, but I won’t let her.

“Please,” I beg, stepping closer to her. My voice quivers with genuine concern, but I try to keep it steady. “Don’t go, Mikayla. I’m scared for you. He could kill you!”

“Get off me, Annalise!” Mikayla snaps, shrugging away from my touch. She clutches the keys so tight her knuckles turn white. “I know what I’m doing!”

“Is this really the life you want?” I ask, my heart pounding frantically.

“Stop trying to control me!” she yells, her voice cracking with emotion. She looks away, unable to meet my gaze, and mumbles, “I don’t need you hovering over me like some guardian angel.”

“Guardian angel?” I scoff. “Mikayla, I’m your sister. It’s my job to protect you, even from yourself.”

“I know what I’m doing, Annalise,” she says through gritted teeth. “I’m fine.”

Her words are laced with denial and determination, but I can’t shake the image of her bruised cheek. My heart sinks as I realize the gravity of the situation—I could lose my sister to a man who would hurt her.

“Please,” I plead, taking a step closer. “You don’t have to go back to him.”

“God, you just don’t get it!” Mikayla snaps, her voice strained. “I can handle this. I don’t need your help!”

My eyes well up with tears, but I refuse to let them fall. Instead, I reach out and pull Mikayla into a tight hug, determined to make her feel the love and concern pouring from me. Her body stiffens in my embrace, but I don’t let go.

“Promise me you’ll be careful, Mikayla,” I whisper, my voice choked with emotion. “Whatever it takes, please keep yourself safe.”

She stays silent for a moment, and I can feel her heartbeat pounding against my chest. Then, slowly, she relaxes into the hug, her body trembling ever so slightly.

“Okay, Anna,” she murmurs, her voice softening. “I promise.”

I search her eyes, desperately hoping for a glimmer of reassurance. But all I find is a stubborn determination that both impresses and frightens me.

I never saw my sister again after that moment.

Ten days later, she was proclaimed missing.

Two months after that, her body was found.

I told detectives all I knew, but without a name…they couldn’t do anything.

I always regretted that day. I should have fought harder to get her to stay.

And now she’s dead.

I hastily exit the office building, eager to get to my sister’s grave.

“Ms. Tryst?” a voice calls out from behind me. Startled, I turn to find a young driver dressed in a crisp black suit, his expression betraying a hint of nervousness. “I’ve been instructed by Mr. Cassius and Mr. Nikhil Volkov to take you back to the mansion.”

What is this? They’ve never had a problem with me walking before.

“Oh no, that’s okay.” I wave my hand dismissively and start walking.

But the man quickly stops in front of me. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

I want to push him out of my way. If I make a big enough fuss, he’ll be forced to let me go, but then what will Nikhil and Cassius do?

I’ll get there a lot faster if I let him drive me.

“Of course,” I say, trying to suppress the sudden lump in my throat. “But there’s somewhere else I need to go first.”

“I wasn’t told about any additional stops, ma’am,” he replies, his brow furrowed.

“Listen,” I begin, desperation seeping into my voice, “Cassius and Nikhil know about this. It’s urgent, and they authorized it. You can call them if you want to confirm, but we’re already running late, and they won’t be happy if we keep them waiting.”

My words aren’t the truth, but from the look on the driver’s face I think they’re working. He hesitates, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as his eyes dart between me and his car. I can sense his confusion, his desire to follow orders clashing with his fear of angering the Volkov brothers. Exploiting the driver’s inexperience is risky, but there’s no way I’m not visiting my sister’s grave today.

“Alright,” he finally concedes.

“Thank you,” I breathe, relief washing over me like a tidal wave. As I climb into the back seat, I can’t help but feel a pang of guilt for manipulating the young man. However, in a world as dark and twisted as the one I’ve been thrust into, sometimes deception is the only way to survive.

“Where are we going, then?” the driver asks, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.

“First, I need to stop at a flower shop,” I say, my voice barely more than a whisper. “And then, to the cemetery at 4825 Oakwood Drive.”

“Understood,” he replies, his voice hushed as if sensing the gravity of my request. As the car pulls away from the curb, I catch glimpses of my own reflection in the darkened windows—a woman lost in thought, her green eyes haunted by memories she can’t escape.

It doesn’t take long for us to pull up in front of a quaint little flower shop nestled between two towering buildings. I leave the car and hurry inside, but the driver follows right behind me.

Have they told him not to take his eyes off of me?

The scent of fresh flowers envelops me as I enter the shop. I quickly select a bouquet of delicate white lilies, feeling an odd sense of peace wash over me as I cradle them in my arms.

“Beautiful choice,” the cashier remarks, wrapping the flowers carefully. “They were my sister’s favorites.”

Mine too.

As I make my way back to the car, I can’t help but wonder what Mikayla would think of the life I’ve been forced to live—a pawn in a deadly game between powerful men. She never would have let herself get into such a mess.

“Thank you,” I say again as the driver opens the door and helps me inside, carefully placing the bouquet on my lap. “To the cemetery, please.”

“Of course,” he replies, his tone respectful as he starts the car and guides it toward our final destination.

“Here we are,” the driver announces as we pull up to the entrance of the cemetery. I nod, unable to speak, and exit the car slowly, my steps heavy with the weight of grief.

He starts to get out too. “Can I have just a moment alone? This matter is a bit sensitive.”

He eyes me warily. “Just a moment. Stay where I can see you.”

“Thank you,” I whisper before making my way through the wrought-iron gates.

The cemetery is eerily quiet as I navigate the familiar path to Mikayla’s grave, each step bringing back the pain of losing her. When I finally reach her resting place, my heart constricts painfully.

“Hey, Mikayla,” I begin, my voice choked with emotion. “It’s been a while, huh?”

I kneel down and gently place the lilies at the base of her headstone, my fingers trembling as I brush away the fallen leaves that have gathered there.

“Things have been…difficult lately,” I admit, tears filling my eyes. “I’m caught in a tangled web, and I don’t know how to free myself.”

My thoughts drift to Cassius, Nikhil, and Damian—each man holding power over me in different ways. The complexity of my situation threatens to suffocate me, but I try to push it aside as I speak to my sister.

“Sometimes I wonder what you would do if you were here,” I confess, my voice barely audible.

The silence of the cemetery offers no answers, but somehow, just being near Mikayla brings a small measure of comfort.

Tears well up in my eyes, blurring the engraved letters on Mikayla’s headstone. My chest tightens as a sob escapes from deep within me. I can’t hold it back anymore.

“God, I miss you,” I cry out, my voice cracking as the tears cascade down my cheeks and fall onto the earth beside her grave.

My sister’s dead. I can’t see my daughters. I can’t tell Sienna the truth.

I’m surprised I held myself together this long.

As I wipe my tear-streaked face with trembling hands, I steel myself and try to regain my composure. I need to be strong—for my daughters, for myself, and for the memory of my sister.

Slowly, I rise to my feet, steadying myself against the cool, hard stone of her headstone. A gust of wind seems to surround me suddenly, carrying with it the faint scent of cologne, making the hairs on my neck stand on end.

“Annalise,” a deep, familiar voice says from behind me.

Startled, I whirl around to find Damian standing just a few steps away, holding a bouquet of dark red roses.