“Annika is not allowed to leave the perimeter of the property until further notice.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jeremy nods at his guards and strides inside the house.
I hop off his bike—that he never allows anyone to ride and only let me out of necessity—and run after him. His steps are so wide that it takes me a while to reach him and grab his arm, forcing him to come to a halt—or I think I do—in the entrance hall.
He faces me with drawn brows, a dark expression, and tense muscles. This has been his state ever since we left the grocery store.
I love my brother, I truly do, but I don’t recognize him sometimes. Or more like, I don’t recognize the darkness that flows inside him, barely tucked beneath the surface.
“Do you have an objection, Anoushka?”
“Of course I do. You can’t just lock me up every time you decide to, Jer.” My voice softens. “I’m not a dog.”
“I wouldn’t have had to do this if you weren’t roaming around the Elites bastards.”
“Creighton is not a member of the club.”
“His cousin is.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. You’re rivals with the Elites, not with everyone at REU. Creighton has never taken part in their activities.”
“Are you sure about that? Because no matter how much I go over it in my head, his sudden appearance during the fire is suspicious.”
“I told you. It wasn’t sudden—”
“Spare me the bullshit. You think I haven’t figured out you were covering up for him?”
My spine jerks upright. “You knew?”
“Sure did.”
“Then… Why did you let it slide?”
“Because he saved you and me. Not to mention that Gareth found evidence that the Serpents were behind that fire.” He steps closer. “But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t aware of it. Perhaps he plotted it with that deranged cousin of his, then appeared at the right moment to be seen as a savior.”
“That’s not true.”
Jeremy grabs me by the shoulder and shakes me. “Wake the fuck up, Annika. Do you really think it was a coincidence that he happened to be there at the right moment? Do you honestly believe there were no underhanded methods beneath it all?”
My throat dries and I stare into his dead eyes with my stinging ones. “I’m sure there’s an explanation—”
“This is why Dad never wanted you away from home. You’re so naive, it’s fucking embarrassing.” He releases me and I sway backward as if someone slapped me across the face.
No.
It wouldn’t hurt this much if someone physically struck me.
“You won’t be going out, and you’ll be escorted in and out of REU.” He heads to the stairs. “That’s final.”
Usually, I’d hide in my room, call Mom for emotional support, and maybe cry where no one can see me.
Usually, I wouldn’t even attempt to go against my brother.
This time, however, I barge in front of him, shoulders pushed back, and I lift my chin as I speak in a calm though slightly trembling voice. “You call it naivety, but I call it giving people the chances they deserve. I refuse to see the world in black and white like you do, Jeremy. I want the gray, I want the purple, I want all the colors. And I won’t allow you or anyone else to forbid me from seeing them. It’s how I chose to love you despite your dark side. My affection for you isn’t due to your rare warmth or, God forbid, your suffocating behavior, it’s my choice. It is also my choice to trust Creighton. He’s not the type to orchestrate such a fire just to play a savior, and he is not, under any circumstances, associated with the Elites. I know it as well as I know you. Don’t insult me by insinuating that I would choose someone who’s bent on hurting you. If you trusted me enough, you’d figure out that I would never do that.”
My chest deflates from the overwhelming emotions I just unpacked in one go. It’s been a long time coming, considering his asphyxiating overprotectiveness. Slandering Creighton is the straw that broke the camel’s back.
At least Creigh trusted me to take this situation into my own hands. The same can’t be said about Jeremy. I doubt he would trust me to even breathe on my own.
His brows dip in blatant confusion, but his voice softens. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I don’t trust your trusting nature, Anoushka. That trait attracts all sorts of predators and invites them to hurt you. The entire King family is cutthroat and brutal. If they were to use you as a pawn, you wouldn’t be able to survive.”
“I’ve been surviving just fine with them, Jer. Hell, I like them better than your own unhinged friends.”
“Will you still like them if they hurt you?”
“You see, that’s your problem. You believe that either everyone is out to hurt me or I’m too fickle to handle myself. I’m eighteen years old, you know, and yes, I might have been a bit immature before, but I’m not anymore. I realize there’s a whole world out there beyond the pretty little cage you and Papa built for me and I want that world, Jer. I want to live, make mistakes, and correct them on my own. I want to be alive.”
Jeremy’s hand clenches at his side, but he slowly relaxes it. “And all of that has to happen with Creighton?”
“Yeah.” I bite the corner of my lower lip. “I love him.”
“You can’t be sure about that this early in the relationship.”
“If I’m not with him, I think about him. Hell, I even think about him when he’s there. He makes me feel happy and appreciated. When I’m with him, I’m just Annika and not Miss Volkov who’s shackled by my family name and background. He’s the place I go to when I want to feel safe, so yes, I love him, and I’m damn sure about it.”
Jeremy tenses and I think he’ll go down his dictatorial road with this, but then he sighs. “Why did it have to be Creighton?”
“Why can it not be Creighton?”
“If he has to choose, he’ll go with his family.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” I smile. “Creigh will always choose me. Just like I’ll always choose him.”
“You never know, Anoushka. All these rosy feelings you have for him might easily turn black.”
“No, they won’t.”
“Are you up to proving that?”
I lift my chin further. “What do you have in mind?”
“In the morning, we’ll go back home and you’ll tell Dad all about these emotions. If he does his research on Creighton and ends up accepting him, I’ll back off.”
I swallow.
Talking to Jeremy is one thing, but Papa is an entirely different beast.
“What?” He smirks, knowing exactly which cord he hit. “Cold feet?”
“Of course not. You’ll keep your word. If Papa agrees, you won’t intervene.”
“Cross my heart.” He continues smirking.
Because he knows full well that Papa’s approval is as impossible as seeing a unicorn.
But I have a secret weapon. Mom.
Seems like I’ll have to fight a whole other battle back where I hate it.
Where I was nothing more than a sheltered princess.
Home.
Home and I share a love-hate relationship.
I cherish all the memories I have with Mom, Papa, and Jeremy growing up, but I dislike it for how helpless and suppressed I felt.
However, the moment we drive into the vast property that Mom has somehow changed from a gothic mansion to a homey one, the only thing I’m hit with are those precious memories.
Like when Papa taught me how to ride a bike. I ended up falling and hitting my knee, so Jeremy blew on it and Mom cleaned the wound as I cried a river. Then I was up and running again as if nothing had happened.
Or when Papa let me ride on his shoulders and I wouldn’t stop grabbing onto his face and blocking his vision.
Or when Mom surprised Papa with a birthday party that he low-key hated because she invited all the guards.
It’s the little things, minor things, that might seem unimportant, but they’re what come to mind right now.
Maybe it’s a psychological trick I’m playing on myself so that I’m mentally prepared for the upcoming battle.
The car comes to a halt in front of the imposing building that I call home. This is where I was born and lived for seventeen years, shielded from the outside world.
I never had friends, definitely couldn’t invite anyone over or visit anyone else’s home—unless they were willing to have their house flipped upside down for a security check and enjoyed the company of my guards.
I was supposed to be homeschooled, but after I begged and implored and was kind of depressed for a while, Papa allowed me to attend a private school. After he bought it and planted his people everywhere.
That’s the type of person my father is. When it comes to our safety, no detail escapes him.
My brother steps out of the car and I open my door before the driver does, then I thank him with a smile.
“Jeremy!”
A tall middle-aged man gathers my brother in one of those side hugs men do and Jer grins. “Yan, how have you been?”
“Bored to fucking death from the lack of action.”
They break apart and Yan nods at me. His long hair is gathered in a small ponytail and his face is as pretty as ever. He’s one of my father’s two most trusted guards and Mom’s best friend.
Oh, and I totally used him as my makeup subject countless times because he’s cool like that. Mom still has the pictures of my amateur creations as proof.
He smiles at me. “Princess.”
“It’s just Anni, Yan.”
“Don’t go using those tasteless American nicknames. Now, come. Your mother has been waiting for you.”
We’re barely two steps inside when Mom emerges from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron and smiling so big, I can’t help but grin back.
She looks so radiant in the floral dress half hidden by her apron. Her hair is pulled up in a chignon with bangs escaping on either side. I’ve come to the conclusion that she’s a vampire, because she hasn’t changed a bit since I was young.
“Babies!” She opens her arms and I run straight into them, letting my bag fall to the floor.
When she embraces me and I drown in her rose scent, I feel like everything is going to be okay. She smells of warmth and unbounded affection. She smells of every beautiful memory and happy childhood dream.
“Let me look at you.” She steps back to examine me closely. “You’ve gotten tall and more beautiful, my baby angel.”
“I’m eighteen. Don’t call me a baby.”
“You’ll always be my baby angel. I can’t believe my youngest is already eighteen.” She hugs me again. “I’ve missed you to death. I’m kind of regretting letting you go.”
“Missed you, too, Mom.”
“Can I say hi or should I come back in an hour, after you guys are finished?”
Mom steps back at Jeremy’s voice and laughs, then pulls him down for his own hug. He’s so tall compared to her that the angle looks comical at best.
“Come now, let’s have dinner. I’ve prepared a lot of food for you two,” she says once they release each other.
“You didn’t have to. We could’ve eaten anything,” I say.
“Nonsense. It’s been months since you guys came home and there’s no way you’ll eat just anything.” She ushers us into the kitchen with Yan’s help. Ogla, our head maid, greets us and I give her a hug. Something she’s found blasphemous for the past eighteen years, but I’ve slowly trained the stern Russian lady to accept them.
“Where’s Papa?” I ask Mom while I help Ogla fill plates that look no different than a feast for an army.
“In his office with Kolya.” Mom plants me on a seat and places my favorite salad in front of me. “You know how he gets with work.”
“Let me go call them.” Jeremy has barely finished his sentence when Papa strolls into the kitchen with Kolya—his second-in-command—in tow.
Papa has an imposing, intimidating presence that calls for everyone’s attention whenever he walks into a room. I’m lucky enough to be his daughter, so I’m never the subject of his wrath, but I know that people tremble at the prospect of being in that position.
After he hugs Jeremy in greeting, he regards me with a soft smile. “Anoushka.”
I run into his arms, and while they’re not as soothing as Mom’s, they’re safe, like a fortress.
It’s moments like these that make me glad to be home. Moments of normalcy, of warmth, and peace.
Of family.
Even if we’ll never be the conventional type.
We all sit for dinner, Kolya, Yan, and Ogla included. Boris, another guard in the close circle, would’ve joined us, too, but he’s apparently not in the house.
We’ve always considered these guys our extended family. The ones we go to whenever our parents are unreachable.
They’re our godparents in a way.
Mom, who’s beaming from ear to ear, doesn’t stop pushing all sorts of food in our direction. Her happiness is contagious, to say the least, and so is her energy.
“How’s everything at school?” Papa pours himself a glass of wine.
“The usual,” Jeremy answers with a shrug. Needless to say, he made the guards report back that the fire that took place was minor and nothing to worry about. Otherwise, Papa and these ruthless guys would’ve come over and buried the Serpents with their own hands.
Especially if they’d found out my and Jeremy’s lives were in danger.
I push my glass in front of Papa. “Me, too.”
He levels me with a look that would bring a mountain to its knees. “You have your juice.”
“But I’m already eighteen. People drink at this age in the UK.”
“This is not the UK and you are not English.”
“Well, I’m half Russian and people drink at eighteen in Russia.”
Mom raises a brow. “She has a point.”
Papa slides his attention to her and all I can do is watch as a different, cryptic emotion blossoms in his eyes. I’ve always loved the way he looks at her, like she’s his world. How he searches for her when she’s not there. It’s like she’s his air and he has to see her every moment.
My papa might be heartless, but he’s the best husband and father alive.
“Don’t feed her lies, Lenochka.” He pins me with a stare. “I’m three-quarters Russian. That makes you about a quarter Russian.”
“One-third at worst.”
“Still a no.”
“Let her have some, Boss. We need to prepare her for all the vodka.” Yan fills my glass with wine and narrowly escapes having his head chopped off by Papa’s glare.
Then he pretends not to have noticed the murder attempt and gets engrossed in his food.
“Didn’t you have eat not two hours ago?” Kolya calls him out on his bullshit point-blank.
“So what? Food tastes so much better with the kids around.”
“That’s true.” Mom sighs. “I’m so happy you guys came back, even if it’s just for a few days. Apparently, you’re all grown up and don’t need to visit your mother anymore.”
“Of course not.” I side-hug her. “We’re just too busy with school.”
“And other things,” Jeremy says casually while cutting his steak.
I make a face at him and he just remains in his blank mode.
We agreed that he’d let me talk to them on my own. Which I’ll do in the morning because I’m too drained for that conversation tonight.
“Oh, I know.” Mom rubs my hand that’s on the table. “I’m glad you made friends. They looked nice.”
“They’re the best ever. We’re having a lot of fun on campus.”
“Not too much fun, though, right?” Papa levels me with one of his stern fatherly looks again.
“Oh, Adrian. Let her be,” Mom chastises. “Tell me all about the fun you’ve had.”
I chatter on and on, interrupted by Jeremy’s semi-threatening objections whenever he feels like I’ve veered too close to the subject we’re here for.
We stay around the table for a long time, even after we finish dinner. They fill us in on Yan’s antics with Kolya, Boris, and Papa. Mom comes to his defense, which displeases Papa, judging by the subtle threats to Yan’s life.
By the time we retreat to our rooms, it’s super late.
That means it‘s early morning in the UK.
After taking a shower, I lie in bed and retrieve my phone. I send everyone a text that I’m visiting home for the weekend. I get replies from Cecily, Ava, Glyn, Bran, and Remi, but there’s nothing from Creighton.
My heart sinks as I stare at the last text I sent him.
Annika: I’m going back home to convince Papa to accept our relationship. If I do, Jer will leave us alone. Wish me luck. I’ll miss you.
It hasn’t been read, so it’s not like he’s ignoring me. Maybe he’s still asleep. After all, it’s Saturday back on the island.
Rolling onto my stomach, I scroll through the album called ‘My Purple.’ It has all sorts of pictures of us, mostly selfies I’ve taken while he wasn’t paying attention.
There’s one picture that I love the most. It’s when he was massaging my feet that were against his chest during a bath. It was right after he tied me up and brutally fucked me. Then he carried me to the bath and rubbed the red marks around my feet. He was so focused on his task that he didn’t notice when I took the picture.
I zoom in on his face and sigh. Why do I suddenly miss him so much when it’s barely been a few hours since I last saw him?
“Is this the reason you’re having so much fun?” Mom sneaks up behind me, carrying a plate of pastries and it’s too late to hide the picture from her.
Thank God it’s only zoomed in on his face and not my feet on his naked chest with the bathroom as a background.
“Mom!”
Her smile immediately disappears. The tray shakes in her hand before it topples and falls to the ground with a haunting crash.
But I don’t focus on that, because something worse happens.
Mom has paled, her lips are trembling, and her whole body has stiffened.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen her like this.
As if…she’s seen a ghost.
