Chapter 147 Anya
I stared at the note. My hands trembled. "Your brother is lying. Your grandfather is already dead. This is a trap. Run."
Who had written this? Someone who knew the truth. Someone trying to help me. I looked at the door. It was locked. No windows low enough to reach. No other exits.
If this was a trap, I had to find a way out. I stood up. My legs were still weak but stronger than before.
I walked to the door and tried the handle again. Locked. I pressed my ear against it. Footsteps in the hallway. Voices. Guards maybe or servants. I went to the window and looked down. Third floor. Too high to jump. And guards outside in black suits patrolling the grounds.
I was trapped.
The door opened behind me. Alexander walked in without the mask. His face was calm.
"Good morning, sister. Did you sleep well?"
"I want to leave."
"That is not possible yet. Not until you make your decision."
"I already made it. I want to go home."
"Home to Nikolai?" His expression darkened. "Home to a man who keeps corpses in his bedroom? You deserve better."
"How do you know about the corpse?"
"I have been watching him. I know everything, Anya. I am offering you a way out."
I pulled out the note. "Then what is this?"
Alexander read it. His face went hard. "Where did you get this?"
"Hidden under my dinner plate. Someone knows you are lying."
"I am not lying!" He crumpled the note. "Someone is sabotaging this. Probably a sibling who wants the money divided fewer ways."
"Or maybe our grandfather is already dead."
"Come with me. I will show you our grandfather. He is here on the fourth floor. You can see him with your own eyes."
I hesitated. This could be exactly what he wanted. But I needed to know.
"Fine. Take me to him."
Alexander led me out of the room and up the stairs. The house was beautiful. Marble floors, crystal chandeliers, paintings on every wall. We walked to the fourth floor. The hallway was darker. He stopped at a door.
"He does not look good. Cancer has taken most of him. He wanted to see all his grandchildren before he died."
He opened the door. Inside was a dark bedroom. In the center was a hospital bed with beeping machines. In the bed was an old man. Thin and gray, his breathing labored, his eyes closed.
"Grandfather," Alexander said softly. "I brought Anya."
The old man's eyes opened slowly. He looked at me. Faded but still sharp.
"Anya," he whispered. "Elena's daughter."
I walked closer. Stared at this man who had rejected me before I was born.
"You did not want me then," I said. "You called me a stain."
Tears filled his eyes. "I was wrong. I have regretted it every day."
"Not enough to find me."
"I tried. Later. But you were gone. Lost in the system."
He started coughing. Blood on his lips. Alexander rushed forward.
"You should rest, grandfather."
The old man waved him away. His eyes stayed on me. "Promise you will stay. Promise you will be here when I die."
I felt nothing. No anger. No sadness. Just emptiness.
"I cannot promise that."
"Please. Do not let pride keep you from family."
"I already have a family. I have Nikolai."
"Nikolai Markov is a monster. He will destroy you."
"You do not know him."
The old man grabbed my hand. His grip was weak but desperate. "Stay. Let me die knowing you are where you belong."
I pulled my hand away. "Where I belong is with my husband."
I turned to leave. Alexander blocked my path. "Anya, wait. Tomorrow, if you still want to leave, I will take you back to Moscow. I promise."
"You promise? Like you promised you were not lying?"
"I am not lying! Everything I told you is real. Please, give it one more day. If you still want to leave tomorrow, I will let you go. I swear on my life."
I looked at him, at the desperation in his eyes, at the dying old man behind me. I made a choice.
"One more day. But if I find out you are lying about anything, I will make you regret ever finding me."
Alexander smiled. "Thank you, sister. You will not regret this."
He led me back to my room. The door locked behind me. I sat on the bed and pulled out the note again. The grandfather was clearly alive. So either the note was wrong, or something else was going on. Something I could not see yet.
I lay back and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow I would demand answers. Tomorrow I would find out the truth. But tonight, all I could do was wait. And pray that whatever Alexander was planning, I would see it coming.
The door opened. A maid entered with dinner. Older woman. She set the tray down and turned to leave.
"Wait," I said. "Can you help me?"
The maid stopped. Her eyes were kind but frightened. "I cannot, miss. They will know."
"The note. Did you leave me the note?"
The maid's face went white. She shook her head. "I do not know anything about any note. I have to go."
She rushed out. The door locked. I looked at the tray. Lifted the plate. Underneath was another note.
"Tomorrow at noon. The south garden. Be ready.”