CHAPTER 11

The morning air seeped in through the open glass door leading to the balcony, carrying with it the crisp scent of the early dawn. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind clouded with exhaustion.

Heinrich was outside, standing with his back to me, his hands gripping the metal railing as he gazed out into the distance. He looked deep in thought, but I knew better than to believe he was brooding over anything remotely sentimental.

I let out a heavy sigh, recalling the events of last night.

Heinrich Volkov was nothing but a heartless, narcissistic asshole who cared for nothing but himself. Every interaction with him was a reminder of just how little control I had over my life.

My fingers curled into the silk sheets as a dark thought crossed my mind. If I ran and pushed him off that balcony, would that solve my problems?

The image was almost satisfying.

But what good would that do me?

I sighed and turned on my side. At least the bed is comfortable.

I shut my eyes, willing myself to go back to sleep, but then—

RING. RING.

The shrill sound of my phone vibrating against the nightstand jolted me from my thoughts. I grabbed it without looking at the screen before answering.

“Hello?”

“Is this Mariane?” A deep male voice asked.

“Yes…who is this?”

“This is Officer Daniels from the city police department. We need you to come to the station as soon as possible. It’s regarding your mother’s belongings.”

I shot up in bed, my pulse quickening.

“My mother’s belongings?”

“Yes. We recovered some of her personal items and need you to come in for identification.”

My heart pounded. I had already lost her—what more was there to find?

“I’ll be there,” I whispered.

I hung up, my fingers trembling. I slid out of bed and grabbed the first clothes I could find. I needed to leave before Heinrich started asking questions. But as soon as I reached for the doorknob, his voice cut through the quiet morning.

“Where are you going?”

I turned to find him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, his green eyes watching me carefully.

I hesitated. “I have to go to the police station.”

His jaw tightened slightly. “Why?”

“They found my mother’s belongings,” I admitted.

His expression didn’t change. “And?”

I frowned. “And they need me to come identify them.”

For a moment, he was silent, studying me like he was trying to figure out if I was lying. Then, he exhaled sharply.

“Fine. But you’re not going alone.”

I tensed. “What?”

“You’re not going without a bodyguard.”

I immediately shook my head. “No. That’s not necessary.”

“It is.”

I scoffed. “I can handle myself, Heinrich.”

He let out a low chuckle, but there was no amusement in it. “I believe one of my rules was that you are not allowed to go anywhere without a bodyguard for Your own safety.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re being paranoid.”

“And you’re being naïve.” His expression darkened. “You’re going with security, or you’re not going at all.”

My fists clenched. “You don’t control me.”

He smirked. “Then walk away.”

I swallowed hard. He knew I couldn’t. I had nowhere to go, no one to turn to.

I hated him for knowing that.

“Fine,” I muttered, shoving past him.

---

I sat stiffly in the chair across from Officer Daniels, my hands curled into fists on my lap. The small office felt suffocating, the air heavy with the weight of his words.

"Your mother’s ID isn’t real. It’s a fabricated identity."

The sentence echoed in my mind over and over again, like a broken record I couldn't turn off.

I stared at the sealed evidence bag on the desk, my mother’s purse, phone, and ID visible through the plastic. They looked normal—worn but familiar. They were things she had carried with her every single day, items she had touched. And yet, none of them felt real anymore.

I swallowed hard, my voice shaky. “Are you sure?”

Daniels exhaled, his expression softening. “We checked multiple times. It’s a fake ID.”

I gripped the edge of the desk, my knuckles turning white. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Believe me, I understand how shocking this must be,” he said. “But we ran her name through every database, and there are no legal records of her before twenty years ago. Whatever her name was before then, it wasn’t the one she used to raise you.”

A cold shiver ran down my spine.

“But… she was just a normal woman,” I whispered. “She worked an office job, she paid bills, she had friends—”

“And she did it all under a false identity,” Daniels said gently.

I shook my head in disbelief. No. That couldn’t be true.

My mother wasn’t a criminal. She wasn’t some fugitive on the run. She was just Mom—the woman who kissed me goodnight, who scolded me for staying up too late, who worked herself to exhaustion just to make sure I had everything I needed.

There had to be some kind of mistake.

Daniels leaned forward slightly. “We’re doing everything we can, but we need your help. Did she ever mention anything about her past? Where she was before you were born? Any old friends, old places, anything at all?”

I tried to think.

She had never spoken about her past. Not really. Whenever I asked about my father, she would always say, He was a good man, but he’s gone now. That’s all that matters.

Whenever I asked where she grew up, she would just smile and say, Far away from here.

She never talked about her parents, her childhood, or anything that happened before I was born.

I had never questioned it.

But now, I wished I had.

“I… I don’t know,” I admitted weakly.

Daniels nodded, scribbling something in his notepad. “That’s okay. If anything comes to mind, even the smallest detail, let us know.”

I barely managed to nod.

Everything felt like a blur as I left the police station. My legs felt numb as I stepped outside, the cool air hitting my face. The black car Heinrich had sent for me was already waiting at the entrance, the driver standing by the door.

He opened it as soon as he saw me.

I slid into the seat, my movements stiff and robotic. The door shut behind me, enclosing me in silence.

I stared blankly ahead as the car pulled onto the road.

My mind was racing, yet at the same time, it felt completely empty.

Who was my mother?

The question felt foreign, like it belonged to someone else.

She had been my entire world. I had cried for her, mourned her, felt my heart shatter the day she was taken from me.

But now…

Now I didn’t even know who I had lost.

I clenched my hands in my lap, my fingernails digging into my palms.

Twenty years.

For twenty years, she had lived a lie.

Why?

What was she running from?

And more importantly—

Was her death really just a random crime?

Or had it finally caught up to her?

—--------

The ride back to Heinrich’s house felt like an eternity. The city lights blurred together as the car sped down the streets, but I barely noticed. My mind was trapped in an endless loop of confusion, shock, and betrayal.

My mother had been living under a fake identity.

For twenty years.

The thought sent another wave of nausea crashing over me.

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms as I tried to steady my breathing. There had to be a reasonable explanation for this. There had to be.

Had she been running from someone? Hiding from something?

Or had she done something so terrible that she had to erase her past?

No. No, not Mom.

The mere thought made my stomach churn.

The car finally pulled up to the massive villa, but I didn’t wait for the driver to open the door. I shoved it open myself and stepped out, walking straight into the house without a word.

I ignored the servants, ignored the dim lighting of the grand foyer, and walked straight upstairs to our bedroom.

I needed to be alone.

I needed to think.

The moment I stepped inside, I shut the door behind me, leaning against it as I exhaled shakily. My hands trembled as I pushed my fingers through my hair.

I felt like I was suffocating.

I walked to the edge of the bed and sat down, burying my face in my hands. I wanted to scream, to cry, to demand answers from the universe—but I had none.

Minutes passed in silence.

And then—

A knock at the door.

I groaned inwardly, knowing exactly who it was.

The door swung open before I could tell him to leave.

Heinrich stepped inside, his sharp green eyes immediately locking onto me. His gaze was calculating, assessing me like I was some kind of puzzle he needed to solve.

“What the hell happened to you?” he asked, his tone casual but laced with curiosity. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

I exhaled through my nose, not in the mood for his interrogation.

“It’s none of your business, Heinrich,” I muttered, not even bothering to look at him.

Silence.

Then, he laughed.

A dark, humorless chuckle that made my blood boil.

“You’re marrying me,” he said, stepping further into the room. “That makes it my business.”

I clenched my jaw.

I had no patience for this right now.

I lifted my head and glared at him. “Stop acting like you have the right to know everything about my personal life.”

His expression darkened. “You are my personal life, Mariane.”

I scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

I stood up from the bed, ready to walk past him, but he blocked my path.

His towering frame loomed over me, his sharp green eyes glinting with irritation.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

I swallowed hard, refusing to let him see how shaken I truly was.

“I said it’s none of your business, Heinrich.”

His jaw tensed. “You’ve been acting strange since you got that phone call. Who was it?”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, so now you’re monitoring my calls?”

“Don’t play games with me, Mariane.”

“Then stop acting like you own me!” I snapped.

His eyes flickered with something dangerous. “I do own you.”

My breath hitched, and I took a step back.

His words sent a shiver down my spine—not from fear, but from something else. Something I didn’t want to name.

His voice was lower now, quieter. “You belong to me, whether you like it or not.”

My heart pounded in my chest, but I refused to back down.

“Then you must be delusional if you think that gives you the right to control every aspect of my life.”

Heinrich let out a slow breath, his gaze locked onto mine.

“I’m not asking to control you, Mariane,” he said, his voice calmer now. “I just want to know what’s going on.”

I hesitated.

For a brief moment, a part of me wanted to tell him.

Wanted to tell him that my entire life had just been flipped upside down.

Wanted to tell him that I wasn’t even sure who I was anymore.

But then I remembered who I was talking to.

Heinrich Volkov.

A man who only cared about power and control.

A man who would use any information he had against me.

And right now, I couldn’t afford to let him see my weakness.

So I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin.

“There’s nothing for you to worry about,” I said coolly. “I can handle my own problems.”

His eyes narrowed. “So you do have a problem.”

Damn it.

I turned away from him. “Just drop it, Heinrich.”

But of course, he didn’t.

He grabbed my wrist, turning me back to face him.

I gasped at the sudden movement, my heart hammering in my chest.

His grip wasn’t painful, but it was firm—unyielding.

“Who hurt you?” he asked, his voice softer this time.

I blinked up at him, caught off guard.

He thought someone hurt me?

I let out a bitter laugh. “You think this is about some petty drama?”

His expression didn’t change. “I think you’re lying to me.”

I yanked my wrist from his grip. “Believe whatever you want, Heinrich. I don’t owe you an explanation.”

His jaw tightened, frustration flashing across his face. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re infuriating.”

Silence settled between us, thick with tension.

His hands curled into fists at his sides, as if he were trying to keep himself from saying something he’d regret.

Finally, he exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair.

“You know what?” he muttered. “Fine. Keep your damn secrets.”

“I will,” I snapped back.

He shot me one last unreadable look before turning and walking out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

The moment he was gone, I let out a shaky breath.

My legs felt weak as I sat back down on the bed, my body trembling with leftover adrenaline.

I had won.

I had kept my secret.

But for some reason…

It didn’t feel like a victory.