Chapter 32 Nikolai
I stood at the door, my hand gripping the doorframe so tight my knuckles turned white.
Mikhail's words echoed in my head. The Morozov family. Katya's family are pulling out of the alliance.
"I will attend to it later," I said coldly.
"Later?" Mikhail's eyes widened. "Nikolai, this cannot wait until later. Do you not understand what this means?"
"I said later, Mikhail."
"No. You need to hear this now." Mikhail pushed past me into the room. He looked at Anya on the bed, then back at me. "If they pull out, we will lose thirty percent of our strength. Thirty percent! That is enough for anyone to declare war on us. Alexei, the politician, anyone who has a grudge against you."
I clenched my jaw. "I am aware of the consequences."
"Are you? Because you do not seem to care." Mikhail's voice rose. "The families are watching. They are waiting for you to show weakness. And you are giving them exactly what they want."
"Watch your tone, Mikhail. You are getting out of hand." I warned.
"Or what? You will lock me up again?" Mikhail stepped closer. "Someone needs to tell you the truth. You are making decisions with your heart instead of your head. And it is going to get us all killed."
I wanted to hit him. But I knew he was right.
I had been careless and reckless. All because of Anya.
"What do you suggest I do?" I asked quietly.
"Go to the Morozov estate. Meet with Katya's father. Apologize and do whatever it takes to keep the alliance." Mikhail's voice was firm. "Tonight. Right now."
"Fine." I turned back to look at Anya. She was watching us with wide, fearful eyes.
I did not want to leave her. Not now. Not after what happened with Alexei.
But I had no choice.
"I will go," I said.
"Good. I will have the car ready in ten minutes." Mikhail turned to leave.
I walked back to the bed, sat down beside Anya. She looked so small and fragile.
"You are leaving?" She whispered.
"Yes. But I will be back soon."
"How soon?"
"A few hours. Maybe less." I touched her face. "Will you wait for me?"
"Of course." She leaned into my touch.
I kissed her forehead. Then I stood up and walked out.
The drive to the Morozov estate took thirty minutes. Thirty long, silent minutes where I tried to prepare myself for what was coming.
Katya's father was a difficult man. Proud and stubborn. He would not make this easy.
We arrived at the gates. The guards let us through. The estate was massive. All white stone and gold decorations.
A servant led us to the main hall.
Katya's father was waiting. He was sitting in a throne-like chair, looking down at me like I was beneath him.
Katya was there too, standing beside her father. She was wearing a red dress, smiling like a fool.
"Nikolai," her father said. His voice was cold. "I am surprised you came."
"We need to talk," I said.
"Yes. We do." He leaned forward. "You embarrassed my daughter, rejected her in front of everyone and chose a slave over her. Do you know how that made us look?"
"I apologize for that." I said flatly.
"Apologize?" He laughed. "You think an apology is enough? You think words can fix what you did?"
"What do you want then?" I asked. My patience was wearing thin.
"I want respect. I want you to honor our agreement. Marry my daughter like you promised." His gaze was direct.
"The situation has changed," I said carefully.
"Yes. It has. I heard you fell for a slave. You let your emotions cloud your judgment. And you became weak." His eyes narrowed. "And I do not do business with weak men."
"I am not weak." My face darkened.
"Prove it then. Marry Katya. Take her to your estate tonight as your bride-to-be. Show everyone that the alliance still stands. That you are still committed."
I opened my mouth to argue. But then I felt Mikhail's hand on my arm. His grip was tight. It was a warning.
I looked at him. His eyes were pleading, begging me to think this through.
If I refused, we would lose the alliance. We would lose thirty percent of our strength. And we would become vulnerable. We would be targeted.
Everything I had built would crumble.
All because of Anya.
I looked at Katya. She was smiling, looking smug. Like she had already won.
"Fine," I said. The word tasted like poison.
Katya's father smiled. "Excellent. Then it is settled. Katya will move into your estate. You will announce your engagement publicly. And you will marry her within three months."
"Three months?" I repeated.
"Is that a problem?"
Yes. It was a problem. A huge problem.
But I could not say that. I could not show weakness.
"No. Three months is fine," I lied.
"Good. Then we have a deal." He stood up and extended his hand.
I shook it. Even though I wanted to break every bone in his fingers.
"Katya will accompany you back tonight. She will stay in your estate from now on as your future wife." Her father smiled.
I looked at Katya. She was practically glowing.
"Katya, go pack your things. You are leaving with your future husband." Her father said.
Katya smirked and left the room. Her father stood up and walked closer to me.
"One more thing," he said quietly. "The slave. I expect her gone by tomorrow. Out of your bed. Out of your life. Understood?"
"She is not in my bed," I lied.
"Do not insult my intelligence, Nikolai. Everyone knows. Everyone sees how you look at her." He stepped closer. "But that ends now. Katya is your future. That slave is your past. Act accordingly."
He walked away, leaving me standing there, feeling like I had just signed away my soul.
We waited by the car. Twenty minutes later, Katya appeared with three large suitcases.
"Ready?" She asked cheerfully.
I did not answer her. I just got in the car and slammed the door.
The drive back was torture. Katya talked the entire time. About wedding plans. About decorating. About children.
I tuned her out, thinking only of Anya.
What would I tell her?
We arrived at the estate. Guards stared. Maids whispered.
"It is beautiful," Katya said. "Our home."
Our home. The words made me sick.
"Where is my room?" Katya asked.
"Mikhail will show you," I said.
"Actually," Mikhail said. "I think Katya should stay in the room directly beside yours. It is the largest guest room. It's appropriate for your bride-to-be."
My blood went cold. "That wing is occupied."
"By the slave?" Mikhail raised an eyebrow. "Then she can move back to the servants' quarters where she belongs."
"No." My fist tightened.
"Nikolai." Mikhail's voice was firm. "Be reasonable. Katya is your fiancée. She deserves the best room. Not some slave."
I looked at Mikhail. He was not backing down. For the first time, he was actively working against me.
"Fine," I said through gritted teeth. "Move her."
"Excellent." Mikhail smiled. "I will handle it personally."
He walked away towards Anya's room. I followed while Katya waited in the living area.
Anya's door was open. Guards were inside, packing her things. She stood in the corner, looking confused.
"What is happening?" She asked when she saw me.
"Katya needs this room. You are being moved." I said flatly.
"Moved where?" Her voice cracked.
"Back to the servants' wing." I looked away.
Her face crumbled. "I see."
"Anya..."
"No. It is fine. I understand." She wiped her tears. "I always knew this day would come."
"It is just temporary. Until I figure things out."
She smiled sadly. "We both know that is not true. This is permanent. I am going back to where I belong. And you are moving on with your life."
"Anya, please..."
"It is okay, Nikolai. Really." But her tears said otherwise.
The guards finished packing and started carrying her things out.
Anya followed them. She walked past me w
ithout looking back. I stood there, unable to move.
What have I done?
I heard footsteps in the hallway. I turned to see Katya walking towards me.
"I am finally where I belong," she said happily.