Chapter 13
Hazel
After dinner ended, Viktor cupped my face with that broad, rough palm before he left.
Something had shifted between us after what happened that afternoon.
The heat from his hand kept flooding into me.
I understood what he was doing—some kind of comfort, I guess—but it only made everything worse.
I was the one destroying this father and daughter.
How could I do this? Why did I do it?
Anya was my only anchor in this cold city. She'd stood up for me in those college hallways, shielded me from all that vicious mockery. She gave me the purest friendship during those dark days.
She was my most precious friend.
And now I was shoving her relationship with her father straight off a cliff.
How could I do this? I asked myself again.
I left the dining room. Crystal sconces cast cold light down the hallway. The evening breeze brushed past me, clearing some of the chaos in my head.
I turned without hesitation toward the west wing.
Evelyn had warned me before—the west wing was Anya's private domain. Absolutely off-limits without permission.
But I didn't give a damn about the rules right now.
I had to apologize to Anya. No matter what vicious things she screamed at me, no matter if she grabbed something and cracked it over my skull.
I had to see her.
I had to explain everything, couldn't let this ridiculous mistake keep tearing us apart.
The west wing corridor was wider and brighter than the east, bursting with Anya's signature energy. Modern art in bold colors lined the walls—pieces she'd handpicked from galleries herself.
I stopped at the white double doors at the end of the hall. Had to be Anya's private quarters.
Light leaked beneath the door.
She was still awake. My heart hammered.
I knocked three times hard. No answer. I knocked twice more.
Glass shattered against a wall inside.
"Get lost." Anya's voice cut through the door.
"Anya, it's me." I pressed my face against the cold wood. "Please open up. We need to talk."
"Hazel?" Brief shock in her muffled voice, then pure hate. "Got nothing to say to you. Get off my property."
"I'm not leaving." I raised my voice, planted my feet. "You can hit me, curse me out, whatever—but you're gonna hear me out. If you don't open this door, I'll stand here all night."
Silence for a few seconds. Then footsteps, getting closer, until the door flew open.
"Threatening me now?"
Anya stood in the doorway, eyes swollen and red, tear tracks on her face. She grabbed my wrist and yanked me inside, slamming the door behind us.
She dragged me by the collar across the room and shoved me. I stumbled backward onto her cream-colored couch.
Okay. Couch, not floor. She still cared a little.
I forced myself to smile up at her.
But Anya wasn't looking at me. She walked to the liquor cabinet and poured herself whiskey. Tipped her head back and drained it.
"What do you want to talk about?"
She slammed the glass down and poured again.
"How you used every cheap trick in the book to seduce my father? Or how smug you felt sitting in that chair tonight?"
I knew she'd think that.
"That's not what happened, Anya." I clenched my hands. "Tonight was completely accidental. Viktor found me in the kitchen eating cold leftovers and dragged me to the main dining room. I never wanted to sit there. I didn't want to piss you off."
Anya laughed coldly.
"Viktor." She repeated the name. "Rolling off your tongue pretty naturally now. Already playing lady of the house?"
"Why won't you believe me? I never thought that." I stepped forward.
Anya went quiet. Finally looked at me.
First real eye contact since we'd been apart.
Her red eyes held everything—disappointment, exhaustion, hurt.
That one look broke me.
"I swear it was a misunderstanding." Tears spilled down my face as I shook my head. "That night I caught Tyler cheating. I drank way too much, wasn't thinking straight. Walked into the wrong room. I had no idea who was in there. I thought it was a guest room, I..."
Anya stared at me.
"Wait." She cut me off, voice crackling with disbelief. "Cheating? Tyler? That piece of shit cheated on you?"
Her voice climbed higher.
"I told you he was no good!" Anya slammed the table. "Why didn't you tell me right then? I would've thrown them both out on their asses!"
The warmth of her outrage hit me. That familiar feeling—she'd stood beside me like this so many times before, fighting for me, raging for me.
"Who was it?" Anya pressed, eyes fierce with protective fury. "Tell me. I'll make them pay for doing that to you."
I cried harder but couldn't help smiling.
Still the same Anya. Still the girl who'd go to war for me. Even hating me now, even after screaming at me—hearing I'd been betrayed, her first instinct was still anger, still wanting to defend me.
"Lacey Monroe." My voice broke. "In your backyard. I saw it myself."
"That bitch!" Anya's teeth clenched. "Knew she was trash! Hazel, you should've told me sooner. I just saw her two days ago. If I'd known, I would've..."
Her voice trailed off. She'd realized she cared too much.
After an awkward silence, she finally returned to the point.
"Fine. Say that night was a misunderstanding. Say you were drunk, walked into the wrong room..."
Anya turned away, roughly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
"Then why did you come back?"
I took a deep breath.
"Because I had no choice." My voice shook. "You know it's not safe out there pregnant with Viktor's child. Tyler found me, kept harassing me, threatening me to make up with you. I was desperate, Anya. So I signed a contract."
"What contract?" Anya frowned.
"One year." I looked down, couldn't meet her eyes. "After that, I'm gone. I won't replace your mother, I promise. I'm just... staying here temporarily, until the baby's born."
Anya stared at me for a long time. Said nothing.
I didn't know what she was thinking. I only knew I needed to hold onto her.
So I stood up, walked over, and grabbed her hand.
"Anya, after a year, I might never see you again." My voice broke. "Please don't be angry anymore. I've missed you so much. Every day I think about it—if I could go back to that night, if I hadn't drunk so much, if I hadn't walked into that room..."
Anya stood frozen, letting me hold her hand.
"Hazel..."
She said my name softly, like before.
But a moment later, she pushed me away.
"Maybe it happened like you said, but I still can't process it. I can't accept this relationship between you and my father. My mother died protecting Viktor. I can't accept him forgetting her."
My heart felt crushed by an invisible fist. Sharp pain shot through every nerve to my limbs. I could barely breathe.
"You keep apologizing, saying everything was an accident, a misunderstanding." Anya's voice went cold. "But if you really saw me as a friend, at least you wouldn't have fallen for my father. You wouldn't have kissed him."
The words struck like lightning.
My brain went blank. Blood stopped flowing through my veins.
This was what happened today, after Viktor led me from the dining room. My emotions had spiraled out of control, facing the only man who'd protected me, validated me.
Gratitude, joy, that undeniable love—it all consumed me.
So in that hallway, I'd run ahead of Viktor and kissed him.
I didn't know why I'd done it. Pure emotion.
I didn't know Anya had seen everything.
How could I explain?
That it was just relief in the moment, not love?
But I opened my mouth, and nothing came out.
Who was I kidding?
That man's dominance, his protection, those rare vulnerable moments—they'd already seeped into my bones like poison.
I couldn't lie to myself.
I was helplessly falling for that dangerous man. I craved his scent, his broad hands, my body burning at his every touch.
I'd never been this far gone before. Viktor was a plague I had no defense against.
I couldn't lie to Anya's face. Any lie about feelings would sound pathetic and hollow right now.
I closed my mouth. Said nothing.
Silence spread.
That admitting silence cut deeper than any weak excuse.
Anya stared into my eyes as disappointment festered.
"You do love him." Finally, she stated it coldly.
I looked down, couldn't meet her eyes. Just stared at the pattern in the carpet.
"Get out." Anya pointed at the door, her whole body shaking.
"Anya." I reached for her arm.
She yanked away violently. The force sent me stumbling back two steps. My back slammed into the hard wall.
"Don't touch me. Never show your face around me again."
Tonight's attempt had completely failed.
I looked at Anya one last time. She'd turned away, shoulders shaking hard.
She was crying.
I dragged my heavy body out of Anya's room, gently closing those white double doors.
I wandered the west wing hallway like a ghost.
Tears completely blurred my vision. I had no idea how I got back to my room. I just needed somewhere empty to hide.
The room was vacant except for a few crystal sconces casting cold light.
I walked to a round wooden table by the window and collapsed into a soft leather chair.
Ruined. Everything ruined.
I stared blankly out the window. Eventually I noticed the table in front of me.
Papers scattered across the surface. Must be Viktor's documents.
The top file was in a gold-embossed black folder, half open.
Normally I wouldn't care. In this manor, snooping could get you killed.
But I caught a glimpse of bold English letters on the header.
Los Angeles Municipal Charity Gala Guest List.
The charity event Anya had mentioned. The important private party Viktor and Anya would attend.
Anya really cared about this gala. She'd been preparing for ages.
Some impulse made me reach out and flip open that thick file.
Names of LA's elite covered the pages. People I only saw in newspapers.
My eyes scanned quickly.
Then froze on a name in the middle.
Tyler Vance.
Tyler's name printed right there on this exclusive guest list. Representing some logistics company, with official entry credentials.
And those vicious things Tyler had said echoed clearly in my head.
Back then, he'd mentioned a plan. Wanted me to get close to Anya.
I knew I might be paranoid. Tyler's family went bankrupt, sure, but they'd had money once. Getting this invitation might not be strange.
Maybe tonight's fight with Anya just made me oversensitive, jumping to worst-case scenarios.
But I couldn't shake it.
That uneasy feeling gnawed at me like bugs.
Tyler's whole purpose in approaching me had been Anya. During our relationship, he'd constantly fished for information about Anya's family background.
What made him so obsessed with Anya?
Just social climbing? Just perks from being Anya's friend's boyfriend?
What was his plan?
I couldn't think further.
Maybe I was just paranoid. Maybe I was scaring myself.
But I'd rather be wrong, rather look stupid later, than gamble with Anya's safety.
I had to go to that charity gala.