Ana nods. “She told me it’s not Papa who’s after me. It’s Dariy. He’s the one pulling the strings.”
My hands ball into fists at my sides, but I don’t interrupt.
“And between that, and trying to take care of Lily, and chasing this career that’s slipping further out of my control—I just…” Her voice breaks. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Ingrid’s pushing harder every day. The sponsorships, the image, the constant schedule. It’s like I traded one cage for another.”
I step forward and pull her into my arms.
She exhales shakily, clinging to me like she might fall apart if she lets go.
“You’re not stuck,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her hair. “You’re not alone. Not in this. Not ever.”
We stand there in the quiet, her body pressed close to mine, but I can feel the tension still coiled tight in my chest.
I smooth my hand over her back, then pull away just enough to look her in the eye.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” I say quietly. “And I should’ve told you before.”
Ana tenses. “What is it?”
I take a breath. “The day of the trial… Anatoly asked to meet.”
Her eyes widen instantly.
“I went,” I say, quickly, before she can spiral. “Not to negotiate. Not to talk things out. I went to send a message.”
Ana stares at me, silent.
“I told him to leave you alone. I told him if he came near you or Lily again, I’d bury him myself. That if he made one wrong move, we’d go to war.”
Her lips part, but she doesn’t say anything.
“But that’s when he said something I didn’t understand at the time,” I continue, the memory cold and clear in my mind.“He told me he wasn’t the one coming after you. That the threat wasn’t from him.”
I pause. “Now I know he was warning me about Dariy.”
Ana’s face crumples—shock, frustration, guilt, grief—all swirling behind her eyes. “He tried to warn you?”
I nod. “He didn’t say the name. But he didn’t have to.”
She takes a step back, looking down like the floor might open up beneath her. “So even Papa knew.”
“He might still want you under his thumb,” I say gently. “But he’s not the one pulling the trigger. Dariy is. Your sister was right.”
Ana closes her eyes, arms tightening around herself again. “I don’t know what scares me more. That it’s Dariy—or that I trusted him once.”
She sighs. “Sasha tried to warn me too. I didn’t want to believe it but it makes sense. Dariy has been unhappy with Papa’s decisions for a while now.”
I trace a pattern over her hand with my thumb. “I’m sorry you got dragged into their mess. I just wish you’d have told me you went to see your sister.”
Ana exhales and sinks onto the edge of the couch, dragging a hand through her hair. “We’re terrible at this.”
I blink. “At what?”
“Talking. Trusting. Communicating like actual functional adults.” Her lips twist into a tired, self-deprecating smile. “We keep trying to protect each other by keeping things inside, and all we do is make it worse.”
I sit down beside her, shoulder brushing hers. “Yeah. We suck.”
She laughs softly, just once. Then her voice lowers. “You were right, you know. I do have this… stupid tendency to trust people too easily. I want to believe that if someone offers help, it’sgenuine. That if someone smiles, it means they won’t stab me in the back.”