Chapter 2 - The Contract
The message appeared on my phone at 11:47 p.m.
No name.
No number I recognized.
Just six words.
DON'T MARRY ROMAN FEDOROV. YOU'LL REGRET IT.
I stared at the screen.
Then the message disappeared.
Deleted.
Automatically.
I checked my phone settings.
Nothing.
My pulse accelerated.
I took a screenshot.
The screenshot was black.
No message.
No evidence.
I sat there for several minutes.
Then I did something I had never done before.
I called Elena.
She answered immediately.
"Please tell me you're not calling about your family."
"It's about Roman."
There was silence.
"What happened?"
I explained.
Elena listened.
When I finished, she said, "You have forty-eight hours to decide whether to marry a man who just broke off his engagement with your sister, and someone is sending you mysterious warnings?"
"That's why I'm calling you."
"Good."
"Good?"
"Because now we're investigating."
I almost smiled.
That was Elena.
She had always believed every problem could be solved with coffee, determination, and several open browser tabs.
By midnight, we had searched everything publicly available about Roman.
Nothing connected him to criminal activity.
Nothing proved he had done anything wrong.
But there were gaps.
Large ones.
His business history became difficult to trace seven years earlier.
Several companies had changed ownership.
One had disappeared completely.
And the former partner from the photograph had died unexpectedly.
I looked at the screen.
"What do you think?"
"I think," Elena said carefully, "that you should stop trying to decide whether he's a good man."
"What should I decide?"
"Whether you trust him enough to ask him the questions you're afraid to ask."
The next morning, I went to the museum.
I barely slept.
My supervisor noticed immediately.
"You look exhausted."
"I'm fine."
I wasn't.
I spent the morning cataloging a collection of nineteenth-century letters.
Then I saw the box.
Box 417.
My stomach tightened.
It was from the private collection I had researched the night before.
I opened the archive database.
The collection had been transferred to our museum three years earlier.
But one file was missing.
A letter.
The database showed it had been removed six months ago.
Six months.
Exactly when Natalya announced her engagement to Roman.
I stared at the screen.
Then I heard footsteps behind me.
I turned.
Roman stood at the archive entrance.
I nearly dropped the file.
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to see you."
"At the museum?"
"Yes."
He looked at the documents in my hands.
"What did you find?"
I closed the folder.
"Nothing."
His expression didn't change.
"You're lying."
I hated that he could tell.
"You proposed a contract marriage yesterday."
"Yes."
"And now you're appearing at my workplace."
"I wanted to make sure you're safe."
"Why?"
He hesitated.
That was the first time I'd seen uncertainty in his face.
"Because I know someone may try to interfere."
My throat tightened.
"Someone?"
"Paulina."
He stepped closer.
"I need you to trust me."
"That's difficult when you won't tell me the truth."
He looked toward the archive shelves.
Then back at me.
"You found the collection."
I froze.
"How do you know about it?"
"Because I was looking for the same thing."
My heartbeat became loud.
"What?"
"The missing letter."
I stared at him.
"Why?"
Roman lowered his voice.
"Because that letter contains a name."
"What name?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he reached into his coat.
I stepped back instinctively.
He removed a photograph.
He handed it to me.
I looked down.
It showed a younger Roman.
Beside him stood the same man from the article.
But there was someone else in the photograph.
A woman.
I knew her.
My mother's closest friend.
Svetlana's best friend.
The woman who had attended every major family event for twenty years.
I looked at Roman.
"Where did you get this?"
"Seven years ago."
"Who is she?"
Roman's jaw tightened.
"Someone your family trusts."
My hands went cold.
Before I could ask another question, my phone rang.
It was my mother.
I answered.
"Paulina, where are you?"
"At work."
"You need to come home."
"Why?"
Her voice dropped.
"Your sister found out about the contract."
I closed my eyes.
"How?"
"She has the document."
I looked at Roman.
His expression changed.
"Who gave it to her?"
My mother didn't answer.
Instead, she whispered:
"Someone wants this marriage stopped."
The call ended.
Roman stepped closer.
"Paulina, listen to me."
But before he could finish, the archive lights went out.
Total darkness.
I heard the lock click.
Then a voice came from the other side of the archive door.
"Paulina?"
It was Natalya.
But she wasn't alone.
May you like
Someone else was standing with her.
And the second voice whispered my name.
