chapter 15

ANA

I stride across the lobby, eyes locked on the elevator, ignoring the buzz of my phone reminding me about an upcoming meeting. Not now. Nikolai Petrov is going to see his daughter today, whether he likes it or not.

If he won’t come to me, I’ll find my way to him. Simple as that.

“Miss Petrov!” I hear my name being called from behind, and I come to a sharp stop, sighing as I turn around. It’s Ivan, my father’s aide—a man with a huge family. I watch impatiently as he hurries toward me, taking his time while the elevator doors open and close like a ticking clock.

“Ivan,” I say, forcing a smile. “It’s been a while.”

He nods, but then his face flickers with realization. “I’m sorry,” he stumbles. “It’s Mrs. Orlov now, isn’t it?”

Oh, right.

I barely noticed. Being Mrs. Orlov doesn’t sit quite right, and honestly, I’m still more Nikolai’s daughter than Dmitri’s wife. Always will be.

“It’s fine. Is my father in his office?”

Ivan scratches at his beard, thinking. “I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him today, but that’s because I haven’t been upstairs. He’s usually at his desk unless something urgent has come up.”

“Thanks, Ivan.” I take the opportunity to slip into the elevator before another interruption can slow me down.

The ride to the top floor is quick, and soon I’m stepping out onto the plush carpet that leads to my father’s office. His door is at the end of the hall, but I’ve got to pass through Daria’s space to get there.

When Daria sees me, she stands up quickly, clearly surprised. “Ana! What brings you here?”

“I’m here to see Papa,” I say, glancing toward his door. “Is he in?”

She hesitates, and that’s my first red flag. “I’m sorry, Ana, but he’s not in his office right now. You could leave a message, and I’ll make sure it reaches him.”

This feels weird. If he wasn’t around, Daria wouldn’t have hesitated. She’s hiding something, and I’m not about to let it slide.

I move closer, resting my hands on her desk, looking her straight in the eye. “Daria, did Papa tell you why I married Dmitri?”

She sighs, eyes darting to the door before she looks back at me. “No, but I figured it wasn’t exactly a love match.”

“Exactly.” I nod. “And he wasn’t thrilled about it, as you can imagine. But now he’s avoiding me, and I can’t figure out why. If he’s in there, I need to see him. It’s important.”

Daria shakes her head, her expression soft with sympathy. “I swear, Ana, he’s not here. I wouldn’t keep you from seeing him if he was.”

I fold my arms, skeptical. “Then why did you hesitate?”

She sighs again, rubbing her temples. “It’s just… he came in this morning looking stormy. I asked him what was wrong, buthe wouldn’t tell me. Just mumbled something about ‘handling things,’ and then left quickly.”

My brow furrows. “Handling things? Have you ever seen him act like that before?”

She shakes her head. “No, that’s why it stood out. Your father’s always so composed, even when things get heated. But this morning he wasn’t himself.”

This doesn’t sound like my father at all. He’s a calculated man, always in control. Something is definitely off, and it’s starting to make me nervous. Did Dmitri do something? God, I hope not.

“Thanks, Daria,” I say, but my mind is already racing through a dozen worst-case scenarios.

She nods, and I force a smile before turning to leave. My phone starts buzzing again—Steve, of course—but I ignore him. I’ll have to deal with work later. Right now, I need to get to my father’s house.

If he’s not at the office, there’s only a few other places he might go. I’m going to find him. Before something bad happens.

By the timeI’m packing up my things at the end of the day, it’s already fifteen minutes past six. I toss my paperwork into my bag when Steve, who has decided my office is a nice place to loiter, looks up.

“You’re leaving already?” he asks, almost incredulous. “Since when do you leave before dark?”

“Yup,” I mutter, not bothering to explain as I shove the last of my things into my bag. “Which means you should probably pack up too because I’m locking the door.”

“Huh,” he says, like he’s got something more to add but is biting his tongue. Fine with me.

“You were never in a hurry to leave early before,” he presses. “Things getting better at home?”

I pause, brow furrowing. “What are you talking about?”

Steve shrugs, piling his papers into a neat stack. “Well, it’s not really my place, but...I just noticed you’ve been working late a lot recently. I figured something was up.”

I give him a sharp look, crossing my arms. “And?”

He holds up his hands, quick to retreat. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it! Just making an observation.”

I shake my head, exhaling in exasperation. “Well, you’re right—it’s not your place. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got somewhere to be.”

Steve stutters a quick apology before scurrying out of my office like a scolded puppy. Shaking my head, I grab my bag and lock up behind me. There’s only one reason I’d leave this office before sunset, and it’s definitely not to have dinner with Dmitri.

I’m going to see my father.

The drive to Papa’s place takes longer than usual—typical New York traffic—but eventually, I pull into the driveway of his Long Island home. Familiar faces greet me as I step out of the car, but no one mentions Dmitri. They know better.

The house hasn’t changed since the last time I was here, and nostalgia hits me as I walk through the hallway. It’s quiet—too quiet.

Oh well, I sigh to myself.Sacrifices, right? You gotta make them when there’s no one else to carry the burden.