Chapter 12

*“I heard that you had a slip-up.”
“It was a mistake and the situation was rectified almost immediately.”
“The story sounded different when Sergei told me. You had to beg him for help.”
“I asked for his help. I would never beg him. You taught me that much.”
“Good. You don’t want him thinking you are still weak. Figure out things on your own.”
“I will.”
“Good.”


Michal’s fingers curled into a tight fist that packed a mean, angry punch. He took deep breaths and sighed. It wasn’t unexpected anyways. That his uncle would try to undermine his capabilities.

It was not enough that he repaid more than the favor given. After two years of no communication, asking Sergei for a favor was enough for the man to gloat. His uncle knew just how to get under his skin and keep him awake for as long as possible.

Which was why, for the fifth night in a row, he could not sleep. He needed to finish the job and get the hell out of here.
He stood up from the bed, walked out the room and gently closed the door behind him. A house like this- you had no idea how many people could hear the echo of doors opening and closing.





He tried the door handle. Open. Good, just the way he
wanted it. And she wasn’t snooping around either. He had been surprised to find her in here the other day.
But he could bet his last penny that he wasn’t as surprised to see her as she was when she tried opening the door and there was no resistance.

Perhaps she thought her governess had done some cleaning. But he knew that the governess, being the meticulous woman that she was, would not leave the door unlocked. And she- like everybody else, did not come to the office when her boss was away.

*Why did he leave it open?

He knew that eventually she would come around. He had seen a glimpse of the fierceness beneath her “good daughter” exterior and he wanted to see how far it would go.

He watched her, from the first envelope she picked up. He saw the shock on her face as she struggled to fit the pieces together. And he knew- he knew what she was holding and why it affected her so much.

*The letters she never got to read.

He went to the box, and opened it. *With his own key.

The letters were in new envelopes, with the stamps half-hazardly slapped on. It looked like a botched job, but at least she tried to make things look like they did before.

He counted them. Sixteen. And felt a surge of anger.
*What sort of man did that to his child? Withhold things that would have made her know her mother better?

Michal knew that year after year, Katya’s father received a letter a week before her birthday. He also knew that the old man kept the letters inside the box, buying gifts instead of giving her the one thing that she so desperately needed but had no idea it existed.


He locked the box and kept it in its place. If her father eventually decides to open the box and go through the content, he would not be able to blame anyone. Ask a person who you are keeping secrets from if she went through the contents of the secret? Or the governess who had given him not a single reason to doubt all these years?

He took another key from his pocket and opened a locked drawer. A quick search found him exactly what he was looking for. A simple file with no label.
*A smart, yet outdated trick.

He opened the file, took out a piece of paper, folded it and put it in his pocket. Then he walked out, locking the door this time.








“Can I get you something?”

Michal visibly jumped at the sound of Luyeva’s voice. *Where did she come from?

“Good day.”
Michal tried to appear unperturbed. He glanced behind him. *He was far away from the office, thank goodness.

“Did you get lost? There are a lot of identical bedrooms in this house.”

“Oh no. I wanted to familiarize myself with the house. Should in case she goes missing again,” he tried to play it off as a joke.

“I bet she learned her lesson already. Katya might be stubborn but she is smart. If you do need a tour, you should ask her. Or come find me.” Luyeva replied.

Michal nodded. Then watched as she walked away. When she was a good distance away, he reached into his pocket to bring out the paper-



“You know, my father gets really mad when people break his rules.”

He turned around, slowly.

“Oh?”

Katya stood- her arms folded, a skeptical look on her face.
“You told me the same words a few days ago.”

“You were in his office. But I reconsidered. You are his daughter. You are used to having your way or rebelling till you get it, so snooping around his office in his absence would be the normal thing for you to do.”

“Huh?”

*Play the card you have, Michal.

“You are your father’s only child.”

“And you were coming from the direction of his office. It means, you were snooping too. And no- I do not get to do things my way all the time.”

He didn’t cover the distance this time. He stayed put, and gave her a mocking smile instead.
“Aren’t you? The runaway incident? The gifts your father sends every now and then? The luxury splurge whenever you wish?”

“Don’t you dare-

“I’m just saying the truth, Katya. You might think that you suffer, staying put in this house with everything that you might possibly need, a governess that dotes on you everytime and a bodyguard that makes sure you are safe at everytime.”

“I am not spoilt! Luyeva has been working for my father before years before I was born! And if your memory serves you well, I didn’t want you here either!” Katya shouted.

And then, she began to cry.

*Oh shit.


Was he supposed to comfort her? Or walk away? Granted, he had been a little mean but he did not expect her to cry. He wanted her to get angry, storm off and leave him to be.

“Katya,” he started.

She raised a shaky hand.
“You don’t get to call me spoilt when you have been around for only a month. You don’t know half of the things that go on in this house. All you see from the outside is a girl who has everything and still finds pleasure in running away.

And I don’t blame you. I mean, who would? Everybody has the free will to assume. I just thought- I thought you would understand a little by now.”

And then she stormed off.


*Ah shit.

He dragged his fingers through his hair in frustration. *Blame the sleep he never got to have.