Anne felt like a butterfly trapped in glass, with no room to fly, her wings increasingly broken. The Vasiliev mansion, once oppressive, was now a nest of constant tension. Every corner breathed a silent war; every look, every word, was a dagger in disguise.
Lucian was becoming more distant, colder... or perhaps more confused. Since Natalia's return, his face was a mask that he did not remove even in intimacy. There were moments when Ana believed that he still wanted her, that he still needed her. But then, in the empty nights, she would hear footsteps that did not go to her room, doors closing in the distance, muffled whispers between marble walls.
Natalia, on the other hand, was fire disguised as ice. He never spoke to her directly again since that day in the living room, but her presence invaded everything: he changed the routines of the house, dismissed maids who sympathized with Ana, had new dresses sewn that he knew she would not wear. He did not need to punish her with violence. His revenge was as fine as a needle and as deep as a stab.
Ana, in the middle, walked on glass. She couldn't look at Lucian without feeling Natalia's shadow behind her. She couldn't talk to Natalia without remembering the caresses that still burned on her skin because of Lucian. And the worst thing was... despite everything, she loved him.
Yes, she loved him. In an unhealthy and dependent way, like someone who loves the storm that tears him apart.
**
One afternoon, when she came back from organizing the books in the library, she found him waiting for her in her room. Lucian's face was tense, his eyes full of contained fire.
-I need to talk to you," he said, closing the door behind him.
Anne remained silent. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought he would hear it.
-I can't go on as if nothing happened," she began. Natalia is in this house. You are in this house. And I...
He stopped. He looked like he was about to break, but Lucian wasn't breaking. He only stiffened.
-I love you, Ana.
She looked up at him, her lips parted. She had never heard him say it so clearly. And for a moment, she wished those words were enough to heal everything.
-Then why are you hiding me? -he whispered.
Lucian looked down. He reached over, took her face in his hands and kissed her. It was a desperate kiss, as if he was trying to extinguish a truth that hurt more than the deception.
-Because this love... must not exist," he said in a broken voice. But I don't know how to let you go.
Anne felt tears welling up in her eyes. She was trapped. Not between Natalia and Lucian, but between her own desire and her dignity. Between the love she had idealized and the cruel reality that surrounded her.
**
That night, Natalia entered her room unannounced. She had a glass of wine in her hand and a smile drawn with surgical precision.
-I'm not going to yell at you," she said, approaching slowly. Nor am I going to hit you. I'm not like you, Ana. I don't need to lower myself to win.
Ana said nothing. Her body trembled, but she didn't back down.
-I just want you to know something," Natalia continued, setting the glass on the table, "Lucian is not going to choose you. He may tell you that he loves you, he may look for you in the night, he may promise you a forever... but in the end, he will still be mine. Do you know why?
He leaned toward her, so close that Anne could smell the wine and the rage.
-Because you gave him your soul. I taught him how to use it.
And without waiting for an answer, he left.
**
When the door closed, Ana fell to her knees. Lucian loved her, yes. But he also destroyed her. Natalia hated her, but also understood her in the depths of her pain.
She was between two fires, and neither promised salvation.
Only one thing was certain:
If she did not learn to save herself, no one else would.