Chapter 7 Anya
I froze in the doorway. The man who had just entered was dangerous. I could feel it the same way animals could feel earthquakes before they happened.
He was tall. But not as tall as Nikolai. He had platinum blonde hair that was perfectly styled. Ice blue eyes that looked like they could see right through me. He wore an expensive suit and moved with the confidence of someone who had never been afraid of anything in his life.
He was beautiful in a cold way. Like a perfect statue carved from ice.
And he was looking at me like I was the most interesting thing he had seen in a long time.
"I said go to your room," Nikolai's voice cut through my thought, sharp and dangerous.
I moved quickly past the blonde man, keeping my head down. But as I passed him, he reached out and caught my arm. His grip was not tight but it stopped me completely.
"Not so fast, little one," he said. His voice was smooth and pleasant. Which somehow made it more terrifying. "I have not seen you before. Are you new to the Markov estate?"
I did not answer. I did not look up. I just just stood frozen with his hand on my arm.
"Alexei." Nikolai's voice was cold. "Let her go."
The man smiled. He released my arm slowly, and deliberately. Like he was doing Nikolai a favor.
"My apologies. I was just curious about your new servant." His ice blue eyes studied my face. "She is very young looking. Very frightened, like a trapped animal."
"She is none of your concern," Nikolai said. "Anya. Leave. Now."
I fled and ran down the hallway on shaking legs. I did not stop until I reached my small room in the servants' wing. I locked the door behind me and leaned against it. My heart was pounding.
Who was that man? Why did Nikolai look so angry when he arrived? And why did the man look at me like he knew something I did not?
I moved to my small bed and sat down. My hands were still shaking. Everything was shaking.
I pulled Nikolai's black shirt tighter around me. It smelled like him. Expensive cologne and Cuban cigar.
Nikolai Markov had killed my father and taken me as revenge. He had owned me like property. He should have terrified me completely. It should have made me hate him with every breath.
And I was indeed terrified of him. I did hate him.
But I also saw things I was not supposed to see. Like how he could not sleep in the dark. Like how when he listened to me hum, his shoulders would relax slightly. Like how he had ordered me to undress and then changed his mind. Like how he gave me his shirt so I would not catch a cold.
He confused me.
Was he cruel because that was all he knew? Or was he cruel because he chose to be?
I did not know. And not knowing was dangerous.
There was a knock on my door. It was soft but insistent.
I stood slowly and opened it. One of the other servants stood there. An older woman named Vera who had been kind to me in small ways.
"The Pakhan wants you in his bedroom," Vera said quietly. "Now."
My eyes widened. "Why?"
"I do not know. But you should not keep him waiting."
I followed Vera through the corridors. It was late in the evening now. The sun had set and the estate was full of shadows. We passed other servants who looked at me with expressions I could not read.
We reached Nikolai's bedroom. Vera knocked once and then left quickly.
"Enter," Nikolai's voice called from inside.
I pushed the door open slowly.
Nikolai stood by the window, looking out at the dark forests. He had changed into black pants and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I could see scars on his forearms. Rope burns maybe.
"Close the door," he said without turning around.
I closed it and stood there waiting.
"Alexei Volkov is dangerous," Nikolai said. "More dangerous than you can imagine. If you see him again, you do not speak to him. You do not look at him. You run and you find me or Mikhail immediately. Do you understand?"
"Yes." I nodded.
"He is my enemy. He has been for five years. He wants to destroy me and he will use any weakness he can find." Nikolai finally turned to look at me. "And you, Anya Koslov, are a weakness."
I swallowed hard. The words hurt even though they should not have.
"I did not ask to be here," I whispered. And he heard.
"No. You did not.” He replied. “But you are here. You belong to me. Which means Alexei will try to use you against me." He moved closer. "That is why you will sleep in my room every night from now on. Where I can keep you safe."
"Safe?" The word felt strange in my mouth. And I was angry. "You are the one I should fear. You killed my father."
The words escaped before I could stop them. I saw Nikolai's face go cold and dangerous.
I froze expecting the worst. I shouldn't have spoken. I should have kept quiet like I used to. But he didn't react. He just spoke.
"Yes," he said flatly. "I did. Your father tried to destroy my family. He killed my father's men. He testified against us. He chose to be our enemy. And enemies die. That is how my world works."
"He was a good man," I said, tears filling my eyes. I tried to stop myself from talking. But I had always wanted to say these words to his face. "All he did was try to help people. To stop bad things from happening."
"Good men do not survive in Moscow," Nikolai said. "Your father should have known that. He should have protected his family better. He should have thought about what would happen to his children if he lost his war against us."
"So is it his fault? That you took me? That Dmitri was taken? That our lives were destroyed?"
"Yes."
The simple answer broke something inside me. I started crying. Not silent tears this time. Real sobbing that I could not control.
"He tried," I choked out between sobs. "He tried so hard to keep us safe. To give us a good life. To be a good father. And you killed him. You took everything from us."
Nikolai watched me cry with no expression on his face. No pity. No guilt. Nothing.
"Your father made his choices," he said coldly. "You are paying for them. That is justice in my world."
"That is not justice," I sobbed. "That is cruelty."
"They are often the same thing." He said without remorse.
I sank to the floor, crying so hard I could not breathe. I could only feel the pain of everything I had lost. My mother. My father. My brother. My freedom. My life.
I felt Nikolai move closer. He was standing over me.
Then, unexpectedly, I felt his
hand touch my hair. Just briefly.
"Stop crying," he said. His voice was cold and dangerous. "Tears make me sick."