Chapter 133 Anya
The next morning Alexei left early for a meeting.
"I will be back by noon," he said and kissed my forehead. "Be good."
"I will," I promised.
I waited until I heard his car leave, then I got up, got dressed, and went straight to his study.
The locked drawer was my target. I had seen the key hidden under papers so I grabbed it and opened the drawer.
Inside were more files than before, more photographs, more evidence of his crimes. But this time I was looking for something specific. Information about his operation. Names. Locations. Schedules. Anything I could use against him.
I pulled out a folder labeled "Shipments" and opened it. Inside were manifests with dates, times, and locations where drugs were being moved. I took photos with my phone one after another, making sure to capture every detail.
Then I found another folder labeled "Personnel." I opened it and inside were files on all of Alexei's men with names, addresses, families. And there near the back I found it. A file labeled "Markov."
My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside was everything. Photos of Nikolai, articles about his death, reports from the men who had thrown him in the ocean. And at the bottom a handwritten note from Alexei.
"Confirm body disposal. No survivors. Wife secured."
Wife secured. That was what I was to him. Property. Something to be secured.
I felt rage building inside me, hot and consuming. But I forced it down, took photos of everything, and put the files back exactly as I found them.
I was about to close the drawer when I saw one more folder. This one had no label. I pulled it out and opened it.
And my blood ran cold.
Inside were photos of me. Dozens of them taken over months. Some from before I even met Nikolai. Me walking to work, me shopping, me sitting in a cafe.
Alexei had been watching me. Stalking me. Long before Nikolai died.
This was not about love. This was obsession.
I put the folder back, locked the drawer, and put the key back. Then I went to the bathroom and threw up.
When I finished I washed my face and looked at myself in the mirror.
"Stay calm," I whispered. "You can do this."
I went back to the bedroom, checked my phone, and made sure all the photos were saved. Then I hid the phone in a place Alexei would never look. Inside a box of tampons in the bathroom cabinet. He never touched those. Never even looked at them.
The front door opened. Alexei was home early.
"Anya?" he called. "Where are you?"
"Bedroom," I called back.
He walked in smiling and carrying flowers.
"I got these for you," he said. "Just because."
"Thank you," I said and took them, forcing a smile. "They are beautiful."
"You are beautiful," he said and pulled me close and kissed me.
I kissed him back, pretended to feel something, pretended to be the loving wife he wanted. But inside I was screaming.
"I was thinking," Alexei said. "We should take a trip. Get away for a while. Just the two of us."
"Where?" I asked.
"I have a house in Italy near the coast. It is peaceful and private. We could go for a few weeks away from all the stress."
"That sounds nice," I lied.
"Good," Alexei said. "I will arrange it. We leave next week."
Next week. That meant I had seven days to figure out how to escape before he took me somewhere I could never be found.
That night after Alexei fell asleep, I snuck out to the bathroom, retrieved my phone, and started researching. I looked up the names from Alexei's personnel files and cross-referenced them with news articles and police reports. Anything. And I found a pattern. Three of Alexei's men had been arrested in the past year, all for minor charges, and all released quickly. But one of them, Pavel, had a sister who worked for the police.
I wrote down her name and her contact information.
She could be my way out. My chance to bring Alexei down. But I had to be careful. One wrong move and Alexei would know, would hurt me or worse.
I deleted my search history, put my phone back in its hiding place, and went back to bed. Alexei was still asleep snoring softly. I lay there staring at the ceiling and planning my next move.
Seven days. That was all I had. Seven days to gather enough evidence, to contact Pavel's sister, to set everything in motion. Seven days to destroy Alexei Volkov or be destroyed by him.
I chose the former.
The next morning I started my plan. I was extra sweet to Alexei and extra loving.
"I want to help with your work," I said over breakfast.
He looked surprised. "What?"
"Your work," I repeated. "I am your wife. I want to support what you do."
"Anya, my work is complicated," he said.
"I know it is dangerous and I know it is not legal," I said. "But you are my husband. I want to be part of your life. All of it."
Alexei studied my face looking for deception and lies. But I had practiced this and perfected my innocent expression.
"Alright," he said finally. "I have a meeting this afternoon. You can come. But you stay quiet. You just watch and learn."
"Of course," I agreed.
That afternoon I went with him to a warehouse. His men were there discussing a shipment coming in from overseas. I sat in the corner quiet, listening, learning. And I memorized everything. Every name, every date, every location.
When we got home I wrote it all down and took more photos of documents Alexei brought home. I built my case against him one piece of evidence at a time.
By day seven I had everything I needed. Photos, documents, recordings I had secretly made on my phone. Enough to put Alexei away for life.
Now I just needed to deliver it to someone who could actually use it.
That night while Alexei slept I made my move. I snuck out of the house, took Alexei's car, and drove to the address I had found for Pavel's sister. She lived in a small apartment on the edge of the city.
I knocked on her door and she answered looking confused.
"Can I help you?"
"My name is Anya Markov," I said. "And I have information about Alexei Volkov that you need to see."
Her eyes widened. She knew the name. Everyone in Moscow knew the name.
"Come in," she said.
I showed her everything. The photos, the documents, the recordings. She listened, took notes, and asked questions.
"This is enough to bring him down," she said finally. "But it is also enough to get you killed. Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes," I said. "I am sure."
"What do you want in return?" she asked.
"Protection for me," I said. "And help finding someone."
"Who?"
"Nikolai Markov," I said. "My real husband. I need to know if he is really dead."
She looked surprised. "I thought you had amnesia. That you did not remember him."
"I lied," I admitted. "I remember everything and I need to know the truth."
She nodded. "I will look into it. But first we need to get you somewhere safe. Volkov cannot know you betrayed him. Not until we are ready to move."
"When will that be?"
"Soon," she promised. "Very soon."
I left her apartment, drove back home, and slipped back into bed beside Alexei. He was still sleeping and had no idea I had been gone.
I lay there with my heart pounding, knowing that everything was about to change. Either I would finally be free or I would die trying. But either way I was done pretending. Done being Alexei Volkov's wife.
I was Anya Markov and I was coming for him.