CHAPTER TWO

ANYA

After ensuring that no prying ears were nearby, I retrieved a small, discreet phone from my hiding spot and dialled an unknown number. My heart raced with anticipation as the phone rang, each passing second intensifying my longing to hear his voice. Finally, after two rings, he answered.

"Hey, Erik," I whispered, a hint of excitement and relief lacing my words.

"Anya," he greeted, his voice carrying its usual brightness. Just hearing his voice brought a radiant smile to my face, despite the circumstances.

"How are you doing?" I inquired, eager to catch up on his life, even if our conversations were shrouded in secrecy.

"Fine," he replied, his tone a mixture of optimism and caution. He understood the importance of discretion and the risks that came with our communication.

My heart ached at the thought of him being isolated and manipulated just like me, trapped in this web of deceit. But in our clandestine conversations, we found solace and strength in each other's unwavering support.

"Is anyone there?" I asked, the weight of worry etched into my voice.

"No," he assured me, his voice barely above a whisper. "You said if anyone is here, I shouldn't pick up the phone."

Relief washed over me as I realized our secret code was working flawlessly. During my previous visits, I had discreetly provided him with the phone, ensuring it remained in silent mode, always within reach. It was our lifeline, connecting us when the physical distance between us felt insurmountable.

I cherished these stolen moments, these fragments of connection that bridged the gap between us. Erik was not just my brother; he was my anchor, the one who understood the depth of my longing for freedom, the bond that transcended the cruel reality of our lives.

As I listened to Erik's sweet voice on the other end of the line, a mixture of joy and sorrow washed over me. The familiar warmth of our connection tugged at my heart, reminding me of the deep bond we shared as siblings.

"Why are you whispering?" he questioned, his voice laced with curiosity.

My mind raced, realizing that I had unconsciously lowered my voice to a hushed tone. I couldn't risk Aunt Alina and Uncle Pietro discovering our secret conversations. If they found out I was speaking to Erik without their permission, they would undoubtedly take him away, severing our fragile connection entirely. The thought of Erik being isolated from me, from the only source of love and support he had left, was unbearable.

"I...I didn't realize," I stammered, quickly regaining my composure. "You're right, Erik. We need to be cautious."

Silence hung in the air for a moment, a silent acknowledgment of the dangers that lurked around us. We were bound by the necessity of secrecy, our whispers carrying the weight of our shared predicament.

"Erik, are you there?" I asked, my voice filled with concern.

"Yes, Anya," he replied softly, his own voice a mere whisper. "But I miss you so much. When will you come again?"

The ache in his words mirrored the ache in my own heart. Our separation had stretched on for far too long, and the longing to be reunited intensified with each passing day. I felt a lump form in my throat as I struggled to find the right words to comfort him.

"I don't know, Erik," I admitted, my voice tinged with regret. "But I promise you, with every fibre of my being, that I will find a way to come see you. Nothing will keep us apart forever."

Erik's voice trembled with a mix of anticipation and sadness. "Okay, Anya. I can't wait. I miss you every day."

My heart shattered at his words, knowing that I was the source of his pain, the one who had been ripped away from his life and left him to endure the torment of our circumstances. But I refused to let despair take hold.

"Sweetheart, please don't cry," I pleaded, my voice filled with tenderness. "I will be there before you know it. We'll be together again, I promise."

As urgency seeped into Erik's voice, signalling the presence of an imminent threat, my heart clenched with worry. I had to end the call, but not without reinforcing our secret code, our lifeline of protection.

"Okay, Erik. Take care of yourself. Remember, if you're ever in danger, what did I say is our secret code?" I asked, my voice steady and determined.

A brief pause followed, and then Erik responded, his words brimming with affection and understanding. "I miss your hair. I won't forget that."

A sense of relief washed over me as I realized our secret code was intact. It was our lifeline, a safeguard against the forces that sought to harm us. I took solace in knowing that we had devised a way to protect each other, even from a distance.

"Good," I replied softly, my heart swelling with love for my brave brother. "Remember, Erik, I love you always."

"I love you too, Anya," he whispered, his voice filled with unwavering devotion. "Take care."

With a heavy heart, I ended the call, feeling both a sense of comfort and a pang of longing. Our conversations may be fleeting and clandestine, but they held the power to sustain us, to remind us of the unbreakable bond that bound us together. I vowed to myself that no matter the obstacles we faced, I would find a way to protect Erik, to keep our connection alive, and to ultimately free us both from this suffocating existence.

I lay on my luxurious bed, gazing up at the ornate ceiling, my thoughts consumed by a heavy sense of loneliness. From the outside, I appeared to be nothing more than a rich, spoiled brat, just like my cousin Raisa. But the truth was far from that perception. My entire life was a carefully crafted façade, a web of deceit and secrets that only I knew.

To the world, I was the heir of the Chirkov family, a persona of wealth, arrogance, and rudeness. But the reality was far more complicated. Pietro and Alina Chirkov, the ones I referred to as Uncle and Aunt, were not my true parents. In the eyes of society, they played the roles of Vitali and Zina Chirkov, my supposed parents.

When tragedy struck and my real parents, Mom and Dad, passed away, it was Uncle Pietro and Aunt Alina who came for Erik and me. Under their roof, we were subjected to a life of control, manipulation, and abuse. The world saw the Chirkov’s as a powerful and influential family, but behind closed doors, they were monsters.

I was burdened with the weight of secrets, forced to hide my true identity and live as the obedient heir to the Chirkov Empire. The outside world could never fathom the torment I endured, the constant fear that enveloped me, or the desperate longing to break free from this suffocating existence.

The weight of their deceit and betrayal pressed heavily upon my shoulders, threatening to suffocate me. Uncle Pietro and Aunt Alina, the very ones who were supposed to protect and care for us, had orchestrated the death of my parents. The truth was a bitter pill to swallow, and it seared through my veins like a venomous poison.

Erik, was just an innocent baby when they took him and me under their wing. In my naivety, I believed that they loved us, that they were the only family we had left. Little did I know that their motives were driven solely by greed and a thirst for power.

They coveted the fortune my parents had built, and they saw us as mere obstacles standing in their way. It was in the midst of assuming my parents' identity and siphoning their wealth that I began to unravel the sinister truth. They had orchestrated the accident that claimed my parents' lives, and I was meant to perish alongside them.

But fate had other plans, sparing my life and plunging me into a twisted existence under their cruel dominion. From that day forward, Aunt Alina's hatred for me burned like a wildfire. She despised me for surviving, for being a constant reminder of her wicked deeds.

The torment I endured under their rule was unfathomable. Weeks of starvation, relentless beatings inflicted by both Uncle Pietro and Aunt Alina, and the horrifying encounter with one of Uncle's associates that nearly stole my innocence. They revelled in their sadistic control, thriving on my suffering while concealing their dark secrets.

My mother, may her soul rest in peace, had married a twin, and Aunt Alina had always been consumed by jealousy. She orchestrated her own twisted version of revenge by marrying my father's twin brother. Together, they snuffed out the lives of my loving parents and usurped everything that rightfully belonged to us.

I yearned for justice, for the truth to be unveiled to the world. I fought against their oppression, defying them at every turn, willing to risk it all to expose their malevolence. But their threats weighed heavily on my heart. They held Erik's life in their hands, and I couldn't bear the thought of losing him too.

So I swallowed my rage, my thirst for retribution, and I surrendered to the facade they had created. I pretended to be oblivious, a compliant puppet dancing to their tune. But inside, a fire burned brighter than ever, fuelled by the determination to break free from their vile clutches.

Uncle Pietro and Aunt Alina were the epitome of despicable human beings, capable of unspeakable acts in pursuit of their insatiable desires. I knew deep in my soul that I had to find a way to escape their grasp, to liberate myself from the chains of their influence.