6. Tears

Anya / Anika

The room feels colder, emptier, as the heavy door closes behind the brothers. My chest tightens, each breath a struggle, as the weight of their words suffocates me. 

Mikhail? Dead? The very thought pierces through me, a blade sharper than any knife. Tears blur my vision as I sink to the floor, the plush carpet doing little to comfort my breaking heart. My breaths come in short, ragged gasps. 

Mikhail was more than just a brother. He was my confidant, my protector, the gentle hand that guided me through the rough terrains of our complicated life. 

Memories of us when we were younger flood back, of stolen moments laughing in the gardens, of whispered secrets under the stars. How could he be gone?

Does my father know about his death? The pit in my stomach grows, churning with dread and guilt. 

The two Alphas have to be lying, creating a twisted narrative to toy with me. But why bring up Mikhail and the mysterious Mia? My brother had his flaws, but he respected women. The contradictions are maddening, and my head throbs trying to make sense of it all.

Wait, didn’t Bastien call the pregnant woman ‘Mia’ the other night? What is going on?

Thoughts race, scenarios play out in rapid succession. Every corner of the luxurious room, every intricate detail, suddenly becomes a potential asset in my desperate need to escape. I need a plan.

It feels like I’m a pawn in a game I don’t understand, trapped in a gilded cage with seemingly no way out. But I can’t stay here. Not when every shadow might hide a threat, every whispered conversation a conspiracy.

As the minutes tick by, a plan starts to form. The penthouse must be huge, but there has to be a way out. A service elevator, a hidden exit. I recall the layout from when I was brought in, trying to piece together a route that avoids the main areas.

The large windows catch my attention. Too high to jump from, but perhaps there’s a way to climb down, or maybe another room with an escape route?

But as I plot my escape, a nagging thought gnaws at me: why would my father allow me to come here, to Bastien’s territory, without a warning or more than one guard? It doesn’t make sense. 

Unless... unless he didn’t know. Or worse, he did. Was it an oversight, or was there a deeper game at play? Mikhail’s death, my abduction, it all felt like pieces of a larger puzzle.

I shake the thought away. There’s no time for that now. The immediate concern is to get out. The night will give me cover, and the vastness of Las Vegas will help me hide.

As the reality of my situation presses down on me, my thoughts involuntarily drift back to the conversation with my father about my birthday trip to Las Vegas.

The joy I had felt was palpable that day. Bursting into his study, the scent of leather and old books greeting me, I had excitedly shared my plans. “Papa! I’ve decided. I want to celebrate my 21st in Las Vegas. Think of the adventure, the memories with friends!”

His response, in retrospect, was odd. His usual jovial demeanor was replaced with a look of deep contemplation, almost concern. 

“Las Vegas?” He echoed, the city’s name sounding heavy as a smile crosses his face. “Of all places, why there, Anya?”

With the naïve enthusiasm of a 20 year old who has never been outside of the mansion walls, I had twirled around, eyes sparkling. “It’s the entertainment capital, Papa! Bright lights, endless nights of fun! It’s every girl’s dream.”

His gaze had remained steady, serious, but then his eyes seemed to cloud over. “Anya, every city holds its secrets, its shadows. Las Vegas is no exception. If you must go, promise me you’ll always stay with your friends. Be cautious.”

I had laughed it off, attributing his words to typical parental concern. “It’s just a trip, Papa. A few days of innocent fun. I’ll be fine.”

He had finally given a reluctant smile, but his eyes still held a hint of unease. “Alright, my little star. But promise me, stay safe. And return to me soon.”

I had agreed, thinking nothing more of our conversation. But now, trapped and unsure, his warnings seem … weird. 

Why did he smile like that when I mentioned Las Vegas? Not only that, but my father is a Pakhan, a mafia leader where he is and yet he only sent me with one guard? Bastien mentioned that there’s no trace of me on any systems, no fingerprints or anything.

I used to think he was over protective of me, keeping me locked in the mansion all this time, but what if that wasn’t the case? Why did my father hide me from the world?

I shake my head, trying to physically erase the thoughts from my mind. There’s no way my father would have sent me here knowing Bastien ruled the city. I’m allowing those Alphas to get to me, making me question my father.

With my arms wrapped around my middle, I walk over to the window and as I look down, those earlier escape plans fall down with the sheer drop I see. There’s no way I could escape through the windows unless I have a death wish.

I’m not a shifter, either. If I hurt myself trying to escape, then I’ll probably die from those injuries. There’s nothing I can do … I’m a prisoner until this man tires of me.

The revelation causes me to sink to the floor and the gravity of my situation finally starts to sink in. People took me from a bar to be sold at an auction and my father’s biggest enemy bought me.

There’s no way I’m making it out of this alive.