Chapter 3 - The Woman Behind the Door
I stood completely still.
The archive door remained locked.
Natalya knocked once.
"Paulina, open the door."
Roman moved beside me.
"Don't."
I looked at him.
"What?"
"Don't open it yet."
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
"Why?"
"Because I don't think your sister is the person you need to worry about."
Another knock.
This time harder.
"Paulina!"
Natalya sounded frightened.
That changed everything.
I moved toward the door.
Roman caught my wrist gently.
"Wait."
"What if she's in danger?"
He released me.
"Then we need to know who's with her."
I looked through the narrow glass panel beside the door.
Natalya stood in the hallway.
Behind her was my mother.
And behind my mother was someone else.
A woman.
Older.
Elegant.
Completely still.
I recognized her immediately.
"That's Mrs. Volkov."
Roman's expression hardened.
"Yes."
"Who is she?"
He didn't answer.
The lights suddenly came back on.
The hallway was empty.
I opened the door.
Nobody stood outside.
Natalya was gone.
My mother was gone.
Mrs. Volkov was gone.
Only one thing remained.
A white envelope on the floor.
My name was written across it.
I picked it up.
Roman watched.
"Don't open it."
"Why?"
"Because whoever left it wants you to."
I looked at him.
"That's not exactly reassuring."
He sighed.
"You have no idea what you're involved in."
"Then tell me."
He looked at the envelope.
"Your family has been hiding something for years."
My stomach twisted.
"What?"
"Something connected to the missing collection."
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a photocopy of an old letter.
The paper was yellowed.
The handwriting was elegant.
I read the first line.
To whoever finds this after my death...
My breath caught.
The letter was signed by Roman's former business partner.
And the final sentence had been underlined.
The person who betrayed me is inside the Vulov family.
I looked up.
Roman was staring at me.
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
"Then why did you come to me?"
"Because the original letter disappeared."
"And you think I have it?"
"No."
His eyes held mine.
"I think someone believes you do."
That was worse.
I folded the photocopy.
"How much of this involves Natalya?"
"More than she knows."
"And my parents?"
Roman paused.
"Possibly."
I felt sick.
My family had always been complicated.
But betrayal?
Fraud?
A missing collection?
A dead business partner?
This was something else.
Roman stepped closer.
"I can protect you."
"I don't need protecting."
"You do."
"Then give me the truth."
He stared at me.
Finally, he said:
"Your father knew my former partner."
I froze.
"What?"
"Before I met your family."
"How?"
"Business."
I shook my head.
"My father never mentioned him."
"That's because he had a reason."
Before I could ask what that reason was, my phone buzzed.
A new message.
This time the number was visible.
My mother's.
I opened it.
COME HOME ALONE. DO NOT TRUST ROMAN.
I looked at Roman.
He saw my face.
"What did she say?"
I showed him.
He read the message.
Then his expression became unreadable.
"That's not your mother's number."
I checked.
He was right.
The number looked almost identical.
One digit was different.
Someone had created a false number.
Someone who knew exactly how my mother communicated.
I suddenly felt exposed.
"Who has access to our family?"
Roman looked toward the archive hallway.
"Everyone."
We left the museum through a side entrance.
Roman drove me home.
I expected him to take me to his penthouse.
Instead, he stopped outside my apartment.
"I want you to pack a bag."
"Why?"
"Because you're not staying here tonight."
"I'm not moving into your house."
"You're not moving into my house."
He looked toward the building.
"You're moving somewhere secure."
I crossed my arms.
"You can't order me around."
"I know."
His voice softened.
"I'm asking."
That was different.
I studied him.
Then I asked the question that had been burning inside me.
"Did you ever love Natalya?"
"No."
The answer came instantly.
"Then why did you propose?"
"Because I thought I could live with the arrangement."
"And me?"
He looked directly at me.
"I don't know what I can live without anymore."
My heart stumbled.
I hated that his words affected me.
I hated that I believed them.
I went upstairs.
Twenty minutes later, I returned with one suitcase.
Roman opened the passenger door.
I got inside.
We drove in silence.
Halfway to his residence, he received a call.
He answered.
"Yes?"
I watched his face change.
"Where?"
A pause.
"I'm coming."
He ended the call.
"What happened?"
May you like
He looked at me.
"Your sister disappeared."
