Chapter 21 Anya
Vera and two other maids descended on me that evening like a flock of silent, efficient birds.
“The Pakhan has ordered you to be ready for a party,” Vera said, her voice tense and harsh. “At the Volkov estate.”
My heart sank. Alexei’s house. “Do I have to go?”
“You do not have a choice, child.” She said coldly.
This time, they did not dress me in simple red. The dress they brought was a storm cloud of grey silk and silver thread. It was so fine it felt like water in my hands. It was backless, with a high neck in the front, and it hugged every curve I didn’t know I had. It was the most lavish, beautiful, and terrifying thing I had ever worn.
“It is too much,” I whispered, touching the delicate fabric.
“It is exactly what he required,” Vera said with sad eyes. “Hold your head high.”
They did my hair, twisting it up with silver pins. They applied makeup, making my eyes look bigger, my lips darker. They slipped my feet into heels so high I thought I would topple over.
When they were finished, I barely recognized the girl in the mirror. She looked expensive and untouchable. I had to touch my face to make sure I was real.
“The Pakhan is waiting in his study,” Vera said softly.
Walking down the grand hallway was an ordeal. The heels clicked on the marble. The dress whispered with every step. Guards stopped their patrols to stare. Maids peeked from doorways with wide eyes. I heard someone hiss a whisper. “Koslov’s daughter? That's impossible…”
I felt like an imposter. A doll dressed up for a cruel game.
I reached Nikolai’s study and knocked even though the door was slightly opened.
“Come in,” his deep voice responded.
I walked in slowly, trying not to embarrass myself by tripping on my gown.
He was standing by the fireplace, dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo. He turned to me and his mouth dropped open.
Just for a second. A fleeting moment of pure, unguarded shock. His eyes traveled from my silver heels, up the length of the dress, then to my face. A muscle in his jaw jumped.
He was as surprised as I was.
Then, his expression went blank and cold again. He adjusted his cufflinks. “You are late.”
“The dress… it took time,” I said, my voice small.
“It serves its purpose. Let’s go.” He nodded.
He offered his arm and I took it. My fingers trembled on the fine wool of his sleeve. He was solid and unyielding beside me like a dark pillar of strength I desperately needed to lean on, but didn’t dare to.
We walked to the garage. Maids stared. Some were shocked, some were jealous while others minded their business.
The guard opened the doors of the car I didn't recognize. It seemed to be custom made because it had his initials all over the chairs. It didn't feel real.
The drive wasn't long at all. Within seconds we arrived at the Volkov estate. All thanks to the car's amazing speed.
The Volkov was a palace of ice and light. Everything was white marble and crystal chandeliers. The air smelled of expensive perfume and danger.
The party was already in full swing. Music poured from the open doors. Expensive cars lined the driveway. Men in tuxedos and women in designer gowns moved through the rooms like peacocks showing off their feathers.
Alexei was at the door, welcoming guests. When he sighted us, his smile widened. His own mistress was on his arm, a stunning blonde woman in emerald green. He introduced her as the daughter of some important politician. His eyes raked over me.
“Nikolai! You came! And you brought your… companion.” His smile was all teeth. His eyes raked all over me.
I tensed, gripping Nikolai’s arm tightly.
“Shall we go in? Now.” Nikolai said, glaring at him.
“Of course. My apologies.” Alexei said with a grin. "Come in and enjoy the party.”
We moved past him into the main hall. It was massive. Crystal chandeliers hung from high ceilings. Everything was decorated in gold. Tables were loaded with expensive food and drink.
And everywhere, people stared at us.
Alexei took the stage at the front of the hall and tapped a glass to get everyone's attention.
"Welcome, friends! Tonight we celebrate unity among the families. And I am especially pleased to see that everyone brought their lovely mistresses." He gestured to his own woman beside him. A tall blonde in an emerald dress. "This is Svetlana. Daughter of a politician. She's beautiful and educated."
Then his eyes found us. "And I see Nikolai has brought his mistress as well. Anya, is it? The daughter of Detective Marco Koslov. How... quaint. I suppose when you cannot afford a worthy mistress, you make do with what you have. Even if it is just a slave from the Petrov household."
Laughter rippled through the hall.
I felt embarrassed and disgusted. Everyone was making fun of me. Like I was nothing.
I expected Nikolai to say something, to at least stand up for me. But he didn't say anything. He just smiled.
And strangely, the room went quiet. Because they knew that his quietness was worse than his words.
Alexei's confidence faltered slightly.
“Thank you for the party, Alexei,” Nikolai said smoothly. "It is lovely. Though I notice you had to mention my mistress specifically. Does she threaten you somehow?” His face grew cold. “Does her beauty make you uncomfortable? Or perhaps you are just jealous that even a detective's daughter is more captivating than your politician's offspring.”
Now the room was silent. No one laughed. No one moved.
Alexei's face went red. But he could not respond. Because Nikolai had turned his insult back on him, making him look petty and jealous.
The music started again. “Time to dance!” Alexei announced.
People started moving towards the dance floor, moving their bodies to the music.
Nikolai suddenly led me to the dance floor, pulled me into his arms and he started moving to the music.
"I cannot dance," I whispered urgently.
"Just follow my lead," he murmured back.
It was a disaster. I stepped on my own hem. I tripped over his feet. I was stiff and clumsy. Around us, other couples moved with easy grace. The blonde in green laughed openly, whispering to her partner. Heat flooded my cheeks. I wanted to disappear.
Tears were beginning to fill my eyes. My face was red with embarrassment.
“Ignore them,” Nikolai said quietly. “Just focus on me.”
“I am ruining everything,” I whispered, fighting back my tears.
“You are not. You are perfect.” Nikolai said. And he seemed shocked at his words too.
When the music finally ended, Nikolai guided me back to our table. I was flustered. My hands were shaking.
I reached for a glass of wine, but my hands were trembling so badly from the ordeal that I fumbled. The glass tipped, and dark red wine splashed across the table, onto the emerald-green dress of Alexei’s mistress, Svetlana, who had just sat down next to us.
The world froze.
The hall went silent.
Svetlana stood up, looked down at the ruin of her expensive dress, then up at me. Rage contorted her beautiful face.
“You stupid, clumsy bitch!” She snarled.
Before I could even gasp, her hand swung through the air. The slap connected with my cheek with a crack that echoed in the sudden silence. My head snapped to the side. Pain blossomed, hot and sharp. Tears sprang to my eyes.
Before Svetlana could drop her hand, Nikolai moved faster than I thought possible. He stood up, veins popping out of his neck . In one fluid motion, he plucked the thin, sharp knife from the fruit platter on the table. He didn’t speak. He didn’t yell.
In a single, brutal motion, the knife connected with the girls wrist.
There was a sickening wet thud.
Her hand, severed cleanly at the wrist, fell to the polished marble floor.
For a second, there was no sound. Just the horrific sight of the hand on the ground with fingers still slightly curled. Then blood, dark and shocking, fountained from her arm, soaking her green dress.
Blood sprayed across the table. Drops of it spattered across my silver gown.
Everyone stood frozen in shock.
The music had died. Hundreds of eyes were locked on us, on the blood, on Nikolai, who stood calmly, dropping the bloody fruit knife with a clatter.
He looked at Alexei, who was pale with fury and shock.
“No one,” Nikolai said, his voice quiet but carrying to every corner of the silent room, “touches what is mine.”
Svetlana stared at the stump of her arm, her eyes wide with disbelief before the pain seemed to hit her.
She opened her mouth and screamed.
A high, piercing scream that tore through the entire ballroom.