3. Anastasia
Chapter 3
Anastasia
I can’t ignore Mr. Williams when he beckons me over. It would be entirely too obvious if I suddenly broke the social norms expected of me. He is a Saint in the Order of Saints and one of my father’s closest friends. Which means he knows firsthand that the head of the Volkov family hasn’t been the same since my mother passed away.
A shudder runs down my spine as he wraps an arm around my waist, his fingers grazing the bare skin on my back. I make a note to only wear dresses that go up to my neck when attending events like this. With my father out of the picture, the men grow bolder.
“Mr. Williams. How are you doing this evening?” I give him a tight smile and do my best to pull away. Thankfully, he lets me go. Even he has to follow the rules of decorum.
“Wonderful, wonderful, my dear. I have just the person for you to meet.” He gestures for a man behind him to approach. He can’t be older than eighteen, but his presence here tells me he’s at least an Unsainted, the lowest level in the Order.
I groan internally at the way the guy leers at me.
Etiquette dictates I need to wait to be introduced, and Mr. Williams wastes no time in doing so.
“Miss Volkov, let me introduce you to my nephew, Martin Williams. I’ll have you know he’s an up-and-comer. He’ll be a splendid match for anyone lucky to catch him.”
I barely prevent myself from grinding my teeth, keeping my serene mask in place. He’s not even pretending to hide his intentions.
Martin lifts my palm, his wet lips pressing against my knuckles. It’s a struggle not to pull away.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Williams.” I take my hand back and bow slightly. “I’m sure whoever you choose will be lucky to have you.”
The words leave a nasty aftertaste, but at least I can leave now. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a few people I need to greet.”
“Already?” Martin’s face contorts in anger, but he’ll just have to shove it. Women might not wield the same power as the men in the Order, but we aren’t helpless.
We still hold the right to choose who we’re associated with, and forcing someone into an arrangement would end in the man losing his position.
Mr. Williams knows that, so he gives me a curt nod. “Of course. We’ll see you later.”
It’s more of a demand than a request. I’ll have to be careful in the future to avoid these two.
“I’m looking forward to it.” This time, I let them see the lie before escaping into the crowd. I don’t stop again, instead giving the clustered groups a small wave as I pass by, not inviting conversation as I make my way through the crowded room.
I can’t allow them to get in the way of my search for the tiara. It’s already like finding a needle in a haystack without letting them distract me.
Everyone’s dressed in their best, trying to catch each other’s eyes. This is the place where alliances are born between families. No better than the balls held centuries ago. Women are on display for the men to use as peons in the unending game of power.
Careful not to draw too much attention, I do several laps around the room. If there’s one good thing about our family losing all our money, it’s that there are no longer bodyguards keeping track of my every move, making it significantly easier to slip away.
I sigh as I pass by another blank wall, nothing seeming out of place. Was I really hoping for some kind of hidden passage right in the ballroom?
Just as I’m about to give up and call it a night, I spot the outline of a door. There’s no handle, only the small rectangular seam giving it away. No wonder I didn’t spot it on my last three passes.
I check the room, relieved no one’s paying attention to me as I approach the hidden doorway. I trace my fingers over the seam, the lack of handle making it impossible to open.
It doesn’t budge when I attempt to push it, and I’m quickly running out of time to figure this out. I’m partially concealed by a lengthy red curtain that hangs from the ceiling, but it won’t take long to catch someone’s attention.
I’m pretty sure I’ve lost my mind as I run my fingers along the wall, like it’s a movie and I’ll find a hidden button.
Of course, there’s nothing there. A long sigh escapes my lips. I’ll have to come back another time to avoid suspicion. Except with the one-month time limit, I won’t be able to wait until the next ball is held here.
My foot catches on the bottom of the drapery that’s puddled on the floor, and I topple forward, reaching out my hand to brace myself from the fall.
I nearly tip again when the brass chandelier I’m holding on to shifts. I freeze in place, breath catching in my lungs when the door cracks open only wide enough to slip and catch the edge.
My heart’s racing as I search the room for any eyes on me. I let out my breath when everyone’s lost in their own conversations. My fingers slip into the crack, and I slowly inch it open when a burning heat crawls up my shoulder blades and lands firmly on the nape of my neck.
My skin tingles, and my muscles tense, ready to bolt as an eerie feeling of being watched settles over me.
I take a calming breath as I search for the perpetrator. Carefully scanning the room once more, I see there’s no one watching me.
Chalking it up to paranoia, I slip through, tucked away from curious glances.
The passage leads to an unfamiliar hall, the width narrower than the others in the hotel. The low lighting and dark wallpaper lead me to believe it’s meant to stay hidden. Checking behind me to make sure no one is following, I reach the first room on the opposite side of the hallway. My fingers grip the handle, but I freeze before I turn it.
I need to find where they’re keeping this tiara, and since I have no clue where to start, a hidden room seems like the way to go, but depending on what’s inside, I could be risking a lot. Would someone believe I stumbled upon this area accidentally?
My heartbeat kicks up as I tighten my grip and turn the knob, then stills when I find it’s locked. I should’ve expected that.
I move to the next one, finding it locked as well, and my heart is kicking for a new reason. I’m such an idiot. I should have known it wouldn’t be as easy as snooping around. At this rate, it’s going to take forever.
The door right ahead of me opens wide. I press myself into the wall, and it narrowly misses slamming into my face. Blood rushes in my veins as an Unsainted I’ve met in passing enters the hall in front of me. I’m so screwed. If he catches me here, I’m going to have to explain myself, and I have no idea how I would do that. Oh, sorry. I thought this was the restroom. I’ve only been here several times a year for basically my entire life.
My breath catches, and my lungs burn as I wait for what’s about to happen. Turns out there was no reason to worry as the man stumbles, swaying on his feet. He doesn’t notice me as he makes his way down the hall in the opposite direction.
Relief floods me, and I close my eyes, letting my head tilt back against the wall. What the hell are you thinking, Anastasia? At this rate, I’ll get caught before I get close to finding the tiara.
“I’m surprised to see you here, Miss Volkov. Or should I call you Stasia?” A play on my name.
My attention snaps to the side of the man towering over me, meeting clear gray eyes. His deep brown hair falls forward, casting them in shadows.
Bash Everette.
My lungs constricts, and I bite my lip to suppress the urge to swallow. A self-assured grin plays on his lips. His stance is deceptively relaxed, like it’s been carefully crafted to put me at ease, but the stiffness in his jaw and the way his eyes track my every movement betray his true intentions—he’s sizing me up like a predator, assessing his prey.
Ice rolls down my spine. Out of all the people who could have caught me, it had to be a Lord. I clasp my hands in front of me, pain radiating from my palm as my nails dig into the soft flesh. If I’m going to get out of this, I can’t let on how I’m reacting. I’m a confused, innocent girl. Just caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“I got lost.” Even I want to roll my eyes at that nonsense.
A dimple forms in Bash’s cheek, and he leans a little too close to me, murmuring, “It’s a good thing I found you.”
I clear my throat, ignoring the way his playful tone heats my stomach. “I…I guess I’ll be going, then.”
“And where would that be?” His eyes gleam, and I get the distinct feeling of being a mouse caught in a cage.
“Tell you what, Stasia. Come with me for a bit, and after, I’ll help guide you out of here.” He’s giving me a look that says he doesn’t believe a word I’ve said.
Which, of course, he hasn’t. You’d have to be a complete idiot. “I have to get back to the party.”
“And you will, but we both know there’s nothing exciting happening there.” He extends his hand. “Come with me.”
A thrill rolls through me, and I take it without thinking. I’m losing my senses bit by bit. I should make excuses to flee, not follow him in silent, stupid agreement.
Amusement is written clear across his face as he guides me through the door. “After you.”
A quick glance in the room has me swallowing hard.
He can’t be serious.