Chapter 45 The truth about her father
Anya didn't sleep.
She lay in her bed, the photograph still clutched in her hand, the files on Nikolai's server, Dima's silence filled her head because of its endless, crushing weight of secrets.
At three in the morning, a soft knock came at her door.
“Anya.” Tasha’s voice slipped through the wood, low, stripped of anything soft. “Open up.”
She crossed the room, pulling the door open. Tasha stood there, laptop under her arm with an unreadable expression.
"Come with me, you need to see something."
They went straight to Irina's room, Irina was there curled on the bed, her dark eyes worried. Tasha set up the laptop on the desk, pulling up files.
"I kept digging," Tasha said without preamble. "After you left, I wanted to understand why Nikolai had such an extensive file on you." She pulled up a document. "I found this."
Anya leaned closer, reading.
It was a memo, dated five years ago, from Nikolai to someone she didn't recognize. The subject line read: Petrova Asset Assessment.
Alexander Petrova has become a liability, his suspicions about the foundation cannot be allowed to spread. He must be neutralized before he can act.
Secondary consideration: the Petrova daughter, Anastasia. Currently 16, has an asset with high potential monitor for future leverage. The Fabergé egg in her possession may contain the financial records we need. Do not engage directly, wait for her to come to us.
Plan: Frame Petrova for the weapons deal via the NGO. Eliminate him quietly, cultivate the daughter through family connections when the time is right and marriage to Evelyn provides perfect cover.
Anya's hands trembled, the words blurred before her eyes.
"They planned it," she whispered. "Before my father died, they were already planning to use me."
Tasha nodded, her face grim. "There's more."
She clicked to another file. This one was older, dated sixteen years ago, around the time of Anya's christening.
Memo: Asset Acquisition
Petrova's daughter has been gifted the family Fabergé egg. This is significant, the egg contains hidden compartments where Petrova stores sensitive documents. We believe he has already begun compiling evidence against us.
Recommendation: Allow the egg to remain in the family. When the time comes, the daughter will be our entry point even when she doesn't know what she carries.
Anya's breath stopped.
She doesn't know what she carries.
The egg, the Fabergé egg she'd found in Nikolai's study. The one her father had given her at her christening, that had somehow ended up in Nikolai's possession.
"It's been there the whole time," she breathed. "The evidence and proof was in the egg. My father hid it there, and I…" Her voice broke. "I didn't know, I never knew."
Irina moved closer, touching her arm. "You were a child, Anya. You couldn't have known."
"But I had it and I let them take it. I let them…." She stopped, the horror of it crashing over her.
Tasha pulled up one more file. This one was labeled simply: Petrova Termination Report.
Subject: Alexander Petrova
Date: March 15
Method: Vehicle tampering, made to appear as accident
Outcome: Successful
Note: Subject's daughter present at funeral, her vulnerability will serve future objectives.
Anya's legs gave out. She sank onto the bed, the room spinning.
Her father had been murdered by Nikolai and for five years, she'd believed it was an accident. For five years, she'd mourned without knowing the truth. For five years, she'd carried the key to his legacy without understanding what it was.
"He died trying to protect me," she whispered. "He hid the evidence where he thought I'd be safe. Where no one would think to look." Tears streamed down her face. "And I've been so busy hating my life, hating this house, hating everything but I never saw it or knew."
Irina wrapped an arm around her, holding her tight. Tasha watched with those flat, knowing eyes.
"Now you know," Tasha said quietly. "What matters is what you do with it."
Anya pulled back, wiping her face. The grief was still there, raw and fresh, but beneath it was something else like fire.
"The egg," she said. "We took what was inside the egg.”
"For now." Irina's eyes were sharp. "But he knows you were in there. He may have moved it."
"Then we need to find out." Anya stood, her legs shaky but holding. "Tonight. Now."
Tasha shook her head. "Too risky. Maxim's still in the house. The cameras are everywhere."
"Then tomorrow. During the day, when Nikolai's at his meeting." Anya's voice was steel. "I'm not leaving that evidence in his hands another minute."
Irina and Tasha exchanged glances. Then Irina nodded.
"We'll help. But Anya—" She caught her hand. "You need to tell Dima. He should know."
Anya thought of Dima's silence, his secrets, his careful control. Thought of the guardianship clause and the surveillance files and the photograph still clutched in her hand.
"No," she said quietly. "Not yet. Not until I understand what he knew and when."
Irina's eyes widened, but she said nothing.
Tasha just nodded, closing her laptop.
"Your call. But if you're going to war with Dima Volkov, you'd better be sure you can win."
Anya looked at the screen, at her father's face in an old photograph, at the evidence of his murder and his love.
"I'm not going to war with Dima," she said. "I'm going to war with the man who killed my father. Dima will have to choose which side he's on."
She left the room, the photograph still clutched in her hand, Lena's warning burning in her mind.
It doesn't end well.
But maybe, just maybe, she could make it end differently.
"He died trying to protect me. And I've been too busy hating my life to know it.”