C125 Why Mikhail?

Annabelle stood by her window, staring out at the sprawling estate.

The day had passed in an odd haze, her thoughts swirling despite her attempts to focus.

She hadn’t seen Dante or Angelo all day.

In the morning, she’d caught a glimpse of several of Dante’s men leaving the estate in a rush.

It had filled her with unease, though she told herself that such sudden movements were probably routine in his world.

Dante wasn’t just any CEO.

That much she’d pieced together over the past few weeks.

Yes, he had his legal businesses, but his life was wrapped in shadows she couldn’t quite unravel.

She hadn’t let herself dwell on the implications.

There were already too many tangled threads in her life to add more.

Her gaze shifted to the sleek gold card lying on the desk beside her new laptop.

She hadn’t dared to check the balance, but every time she handed it over during her shopping trips, the shocked expressions of the attendants had been enough to tell her it held a fortune.

She’d transferred some money from it into an account she’d opened in her name.

Having that bit of control made her feel less like a kept woman, though the thought lingered uncomfortably at the back of her mind.

Still, she couldn’t help but wonder where Dante was.

The thought crept up unbidden, and she scolded herself.

It wasn’t about missing him.

It was about knowing that everything was still on track, she told herself.

Cathy was her priority.

They had decided together that she would start school the following week.

Annabelle had suggested waiting for a new week because it would be more exciting, but deep down, she knew the real reason.

She was going to miss her sister terribly.

Cathy had been her anchor in this unfamiliar place, her constant source of comfort.

Once school started, their time together would shrink, and Annabelle wasn’t sure how she’d fill the hours.

Her mind wandered to the online schools she’d looked into for herself.

She wasn’t eager to bring the subject up to Dante, though she hoped for a chance to casually mention it if he showed up.

But for now, she needed to stay occupied.

She picked up her phone and dialled Mrs Wiener.

The day before, she had sent Pamela some money to buy things for her mother.

It was easier than trying to give it to her mother directly, knowing she’d refuse out of pride.

Pamela answered on the third ring, her warm voice filling the line.

Annabelle asked how her mother was doing, her fingers drumming nervously against the desk.

“She’s doing well, Annabelle,” Pamela said.

“Better than I’ve seen her in years, to be honest.”

Annabelle exhaled a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding.

“That’s good to hear. Has she… has she needed anything?”

Pamela chuckled softly.

“Well, your father seems to be taking care of most of it.”

Annabelle froze, the words striking her like a cold wind.

“My father?”

“Yes. He’s been around a lot lately. Helping her out, even asking about jobs.”

Annabelle didn’t know what to say.

She felt a mix of emotions she couldn’t untangle.

Her father’s sudden involvement felt surreal, almost suspicious.

But if it meant her mother wasn’t alone, could she begrudge it?

“That’s… good, I suppose,” she said hesitantly.

Pamela’s tone softened.

“It is. She seems happier. More hopeful.”

Annabelle hesitated before asking the question that had been haunting her.

“And Tad? Have you seen him?”

Pamela’s voice sharpened slightly.

“No sign of him. Not even a whisper.”

Annabelle’s fingers tightened around the phone.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Pamela replied firmly.

“It’s like he vanished from Stoneraine altogether.”

Annabelle shuddered at the thought.

Had Tad left because she wasn’t there anymore?

A dark possibility slithered into her mind.

What if he was in Acadia now?

She pushed the thought away as quickly as it came.

Dante was here, and if there was one thing she was certain of, it was that Tad wouldn’t stand a chance against him.

Her room phone rang, startling her.

She set her mobile down and picked up the receiver.

One of Dante’s men was on the line.

“Mr Virelli is waiting for you downstairs, ma’am,” he said.

Annabelle blinked in surprise.

“Mikhail?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the man confirmed.

Her frown deepened as the line disconnected.

She stared at the phone, confusion swirling in her mind.

Why would Mikhail be here asking for her?

*********

Annabelle descended the stairs, feeling a tightness in her chest that she couldn’t quite explain. The house was eerily quiet, save for the soft echo of her footsteps on the polished wooden floors. As she turned the corner toward the entrance, she saw Mikhail standing near the door.

His serious expression was like a slap to the face.

It was so unlike him that it made Annabelle pause mid-step.

Normally, he was the picture of confidence, always ready with a smirk and some nonsense.

But today, his face was tight while his brow was furrowed and his body language rigid.

The moment he noticed her presence, his expression changed.

He flashed her a grin and his trademark carefree look returned.

Annabelle didn’t buy it though.

She just knew something was off.

"Couldn't stay away from your charm," he said before she could ask.

His voice was light and teasing, though there was an edge to it that Annabelle caught. "I thought I’d come check on you."

Annabelle narrowed her eyes, her arms folding across her chest.

She rolled her eyes at him playfully, hoping she was just overthinking.

"You’re impossible," she replied, her tone a mix of amusement and frustration. "You’re not even trying to hide it."

His grin was not what it always was but he added a wiggle of his eyebrow to it.

Annabelle thought there was something almost apologetic in his smile but then she supposed she was looking for what was not there.

"I'll check on you some other time," He said suddenly. “Now that I have seen your face I can go on breathing well again.”

Annabelle watched him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

But before she could say anything more, he turnd towards the door.

The front door creaked open, and she noticed the men standing outside.

There were not Dante’s regular men that she had semed to somehow get familiar to.

She supposed they were Mikhail’s men but their faces were too stern and their posture alert.

Their presence was unsettling, and Annabelle could feel her stomach tighten.

Then just before stepping out, Mikhail turned back to her.

"By the way," he said, a strange curiosity in his tone. "Did Dante call you today?"

Annabelle felt a ripple of confusion run through her.

Why would Mikhail be asking about Dante now?

"No," Annabelle replied automatically, her mind trying to piece together why Mikhail would even ask that question.

Mikhail waved his hand dismissively, as if brushing off her response and the question altogether.

"Don’t mind me," he said airily, his tone slightly forced. "Probably just rambling. I’m stressed, you know how it is."

Annabelle didn’t know how it was, but she didn’t press.

Her mind was still churning over the question he’d asked and how odd it was.

Before she could say anything else, Mikhail stepped out of the door,

And just like that, he was gone.

The door clicked shut behind him, and Annabelle was left standing there with her body tense and her heart racing.