16. Annalise

16

ANNALISE

T he lock clicks into place as I slam the door shut, my heart pounding in my chest. The room is dimly lit by a single lamp, casting shadows along the walls that seem to close in on me. My mind races with thoughts about Damian’s unexpected presence at Mikayla’s grave. Why was he there? What connection could he possibly have had with my sister?

Maybe he was just trying to mess with me. But then, why would he bring flowers? And why was he so agitated when he saw me there?

I pace the room, frustration and curiosity gnawing at me like a hungry animal. I can’t shake the image of him standing there.

He knew Mikayla. He had to have. But how…? Mikayla was a good girl; she wouldn’t have gotten entangled in all of this.

“Damn it,” I mutter under my breath, running a hand through my wavy brown hair. I need answers, but I also need to be cautious. Damian Volkov is not a man to be trifled with, and I can’t afford to put myself or my daughters in harm’s way.

He was about to kill that guard because of me. This is not a game….there are lives at stake.

And I can’t let my daughters be next.

As I take a deep breath, the idea of a shower comes to mind, and I welcome the thought. A moment of solitude and clarity will do wonders for my frayed nerves.

As I step into the en suite bathroom, I shed my clothes, letting them fall to the floor in a pile. The cool air from the vents sends shivers down my spine, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. Turning the shower knobs, I adjust the temperature until the water cascades down in a warm, soothing stream.

I step under the spray, feeling the tension begin to melt away from my muscles. Closing my eyes, I let the water wash over me, drowning out the thoughts that threaten to overwhelm me.

The more I get to know the Volkov brothers, the more secrets are revealed…secrets that I’m not sure I can handle.

Yet at the same time, I desperately feel like I need the answers.

Just relax.

I lather some soap in my hands and run it all along my body, scrubbing myself hard before doing the same with my head as if doing so will somehow make me calm down.

It does and it doesn’t.

As the water continues to pour down, I take one last deep breath before turning off the shower and stepping out.

Wrapped in a plush towel, I feel somewhat refreshed and more composed than before. Still, the nagging questions about Damian and his connection to Mikayla remain.

I gasp, nearly jumping out of my skin when I exit the bathroom to find Isabella sitting on my bed, legs dangling off the side and a small smile on her face.

“You’ll give me a heart attack.” I swallow, wrapping the towel tighter around my body. “I’m trying to get changed.”

“It’s nothing I don’t have.”

I should have known getting a moment to myself would be too much to ask for, but still…I’d prefer Isabella than any of her brothers. “Did you need something?”

“I heard about what happened today.” She cocks her head to the side. “You have some balls lying to a guard like that.”

Is she blaming me? I swallow. I deserve it. “I didn’t know what Damian would do.”

“My oldest brother is ruthless. I’ve made that mistake before, but someone died because of me. You don’t want to be the reason that people die.”

“But…”

“This is your life now, Annalise.”

Her words hit me hard, and I swallow before nodding my head. She’s right.

“Isabella, do you know why Damian was at Mikayla’s grave?” I ask, my voice steady despite the knot forming in my stomach. Isabella hesitates, her eyes flickering with uncertainty.

“You shouldn’t ask me questions like that.”

“You’re the only one who will tell me the truth.”

For a few minutes, Isabella doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even look at me. Then, she lets out a breath and stands up. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything.” She rubs her hands together anxiously. “My brothers…they don’t want to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

Isabella lets out a deep breath. “Damian knew Mikayla.”

I frown. “Knew her?”

“Intimately.”

I feel like the world is crashing down around me. Damian and my sister were involved together? But how…? Memories of the last time I saw Mikayla rush into my head…specifically the black eye.

My heart pounds harder, and I fall onto the bed. “He hit her.” My vision begins to blur from shock. “He killed her.”

Damian truly is a monster. He’s going to kill me next.

“No!” Isabella says quickly, shaking her head. “He would never!”

“You’re a liar!” I scream, jumping away from her when she reaches out to touch me. “He’s a killer. He would have killed that guard.”

“Annalise, this life…”

“I don’t want anything to do with this life!”

“Annalise.” Isabella is pleading now. “He loved Mikayla.”

I scoff in utter disbelief. “He loved her…? You can’t be serious? If that’s his version of love, then I feel sorry for any women who were subjected to that. I mean, my sister can’t have been the first, right? How many women and children has he killed?”

“None.”

I shake my head, gripping my towel closer to me. “You know, I actually liked you, but if you can accept a woman beater, a killer, as a brother…then you and I have nothing to talk about.”

Isabella’s face turns from grim to annoyed. “You don’t get to talk like that about me or my brothers. You don’t know what we’ve been through.”

“Your brothers have made my life a living hell.”

“My brothers are trying to help you!”

“Help me?” I laugh at the irony. “You don’t know what that word means.”

“Annalise, the same people who killed your sister…they’ll kill you too, and your girls. Being here is the safest thing for them right now.”

“They?” I repeat, confused. I thought that… “Damian didn’t kill Mikayla.”

“No, that’s what I keep trying to tell you.” Her face is turning so red that she looks like she’s going to pop with frustration. “Mikayla is the only woman Damian’s ever loved. That’s why he wants to protect you…he promised her.”

None of this makes any sense. “But her black eye…? The last time I saw Mikayla, she had a…”

“That wasn’t from my brother. It was from some bad men who wanted to hurt her to get to him.”

“Who?”

“The Popov family.”

“Are they another bratva?”

Isabella nods. “They are. They’re our enemies. Mikayla isn’t the only one they’ve taken. My mom…she…” Isabella stops talking, and I notice her eyes watering ever so slightly before she shakes her head and purses her lips. “You have to trust me, Annalise.”

As we stand there, our breathing slowly returning to normal, I can’t help but wonder if I’m making a mistake—one that could cost me everything. But for now, I have to put my trust in Isabella and hope that Damian’s truth is worth uncovering.

“Enough of this talk,” Isabella says, her voice firm yet gentle. “You need a break from all these thoughts and emotions.” She pauses, a soft smile curving her lips. “Why don’t you go see your children? I’m sure they’d love to see their mother.”

My heart leaps at the mention of my daughters, and it’s as if a weight has been lifted from my chest. The thought of seeing my precious girls fills me with warmth, driving away the doubts and fears that have plagued my mind.

“Thank you, Isabella,” I whisper, my eyes shining with gratitude. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

“Maybe you should get changed first.”

I look down at myself, having completely forgotten that I’m still in a towel. Embarrassment clouds my features, and Isabella laughs, the atmosphere lightened significantly from how it was just a few moments ago.

“I’ll be right outside.”

The second that Isabella is on the other side of the door, I drop the towel and move to my wardrobe-like closet. It’s full of clothes—things I normally wouldn’t wear. Isabella probably picked most of them. I settle on a simple dress, quickly slipping on my panties and not bothering with a bra in my rush before pulling the dress over my head.

Once I’m done, I swing the door open, narrowly avoiding running into Isabella, whose eyes are wide as she looks at me with shock. “Clearly, someone’s excited.”

I smile, unable to contain my good mood. “You’ll understand when you have children of your own.”

She sticks her tongue out. “Let’s hope that’s a long time coming.”

“You don’t want…?”

She cuts me off. “Come on,” she urges, reaching for my hand. “Let’s go find them.”

I allow Isabella to lead me out of the room, our footsteps echoing softly through the dimly lit hallway. As we walk, I can’t help but notice the exquisite craftsmanship of the house—intricate wood carvings adorning the walls, plush carpets warming the floors beneath our feet, and delicate chandeliers casting shadows against the ceiling. This place may be my own personal prison, but there’s no denying its beauty.

“Your children are staying in a room near the library,” Isabella says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Damian insisted they have a space where they can play and explore.”

Damian insisted? That’s a surprise. They’re not his children.

I nod, my heart swelling with gratitude for this small act of kindness. It seems Damian is more complex than I initially believed, and despite my reservations about him, I can’t deny his consideration for my daughters’ well-being.

They haven’t been like me—trapped.

We descend a grand staircase, our hands trailing along the smooth wooden railing, the anticipation building within me. My pulse quickens with each step, my eagerness to hold my children again growing stronger by the second.

This will be my first time seeing them in over a week.

We continue down the corridor, Isabella leading the way as my heart hammers in my chest. The air feels heavy with anticipation, each breath a struggle as we near the room where my children await. My fingers twitch at my side, longing to wrap around their little bodies and hold them close once more.

“Are you ready?” Isabella asks softly, pausing by a grand oak door adorned with intricate carvings of mythical creatures.

“More than anything,” I reply, my voice trembling with a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Then let’s go see your daughters.”