The morning came with an air of invisible tension, as if the walls of the mansion knew what was about to be unleashed. Anne didn't notice at first. She continued with her chores, picking up the sheets in the east wing, tidying the books in the library, as she did every day. But something changed when two security guards appeared before her.
-Miss Ana," one of them said in a firm voice, "You must come with us.
She frowned, puzzled. -Has something happened?
-We are not allowed to tell you. Mrs. Viktoria wishes to speak to you. Now.
They led her into the main hall, where Viktoria was waiting for her with an open folder on the table and a face that showed no emotion.
-Do you know what this is? -she asked, holding up a photograph showing Ana handing a sealed envelope to one of the cooks.
Ana blinked. -I don't... I don't remember. It was a message, I think, from Petrovna...
-That "message," Viktoria interrupted, "contained confidential family documents. Bank reports. Codes. Classified information about our international contacts.
Ana gasped. -That's not true! I didn't know...
-So you're saying that the cook is lying? That the documents magically came into her hands? And that you, of course, didn't know anything? -Viktoria circled around her, like a hawk watching its prey. How convenient.
-I didn't steal anything," Ana whispered, trembling.
-No. Of course not," Viktoria smiled sarcastically. You're just an innocent who came from nowhere and ended up neck-deep in Vasiliev business.
Lucian was not there. Ana looked for him with her eyes, desperate, waiting for him to come through that door and say it was all a mistake. But the silence was absolute.
-From now on," Viktoria said in an icy voice, "you will be watched. Every step, every breath. If anything else goes missing... I will not respond with words.
Anna felt the world crumbling beneath her feet. She had been framed. She understood now. Viktoria was behind it. It was her form of warning. Of control.
And for the first time since her arrival, Ana felt something stronger than fear: fury.
She could not allow herself to be destroyed from the inside. Not again.