Across the table, Lillian smirked, stirring her drink like this was the most entertaining thing she'd witnessed all week. Irene leaned closer to her, whispering something, and they both laughed under their breath.
I barely noticed.
My fingers curled into fists as I forced my voice to work. "Dad… what are you talking about?"
For the first time in years, he actually looked at me. Not through me. At me. There was something almost hesitant in his gaze, but it was gone in a blink.
"You are getting married, Alina," he repeated, gentler this time. "It has already been arranged."
I shook my head. "But… but I'm still in college." My voice wavered. "How is that even possible?"
My father sighed, rubbing his temple like I was an inconvenience. "You will take a break from school for now."
A break? Like my life was something he could pause with the press of a button?
He exhaled slowly, as if this was difficult for him. As if he actually felt bad. "Alina, this is your chance to do something for this family.we are in debts, and marrying you off is the only possible way for us to pay or we would all be in big trouble "
"But why me?" I asked, gripping the edge of the table. "Why not—"
"Oh, please," Lillian scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Do you think they'd pick us over you? You're the perfect little sacrifice."
Irene giggled. "Yeah, always so quiet, always trying to disappear. It's only fair they finally found a use for you."
A use.
I turned back to my father, my heart pounding. "Dad, please—"
"Enough," he snapped, the hesitation gone from his voice. "This is your chance to finally contribute something to this family."
I blinked at him. "Contribute?"
"After everything we have done for you," he continued, his tone cold, "you should be grateful. You will be saving this family from ruin."
A quiet laugh escaped me, bitter and humorless. "Saving this family?" I repeated. "Grateful?"
"Your father is right, Alina," my stepmother said smoothly, finally speaking. She tilted her head, giving me a pitying smile. "After all, it's not like you've ever been useful for anything else."
My breath caught.
My throat burned, my chest tightened, but I refused to cry. Not in front of them.
"Who am I marrying?" I forced out, my voice barely above a whisper.
My father adjusted his cufflinks, his expression sharp and indifferent.
"You are marrying into the Volkov family."
The room spun. I suddenly felt cold,too cold.
The Volkovs.
Everyone knew that name.
They weren't just powerful.
They were feared.
The room was still spinning when I stepped out.
The Volkovs.
My father had just handed me over to them.
My hands trembled as i gripped the edge of the hallway wall, trying to steady myself. My legs felt weak, like they might give out beneath me. In the distance, i could still hear my sisters' laughter, their mocking voices muffled as though i were underwater.
But all i could focus on was that name.
Everyone knew the Volkovs.
Powerful. Wealthy. Untouchable.
Dangerous.
I forced in a shaky breath, but it barely filled my lungs. A deep, instinctive fear settled in her stomach, curling like ice in her veins.
Did my father even realize what he had done?
No—of course, he did. He just didn't care.
I staggered toward my room, pushing the door shut behind my with numb fingers. The silence inside was suffocating. I sat on the edge of my bed, pressing a hand to my chest, willing my heart to slow down.
I needed to know exactly what i was walking into.
My hands shook as i reached for my phone, my vision blurring as i typed:
Volkov Family.
Thousands of search results flooded the screen.
I scrolled past articles about their empire, their wealth—none of that mattered. What mattered were the rumors.
I found them buried in whispered forum threads, anonymous warnings from people who claimed to have seen something they shouldn't have.
They're not normal.
People who cross them disappear.
No one knows what happens inside their estate.
The eldest son…
My breath hitched.
The man I was supposed to marry.
Unlike his father and brothers, who made rare public appearances, he was a ghost. There were no photos, no details—just endless speculation.
Drey Volkov is cursed.
Drey Volkov is a monster.
Drey Volkov doesn't exist.
My throat tightened.
I needed to talk to someone.
With shaking hands, I tapped Nina's contact and pressed the phone to my ear.
"Alina?" Nina's voice came through almost immediately. "What's wrong?"
I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
"Alina, talk to me."
I sucked in a breath, gripping the phone tighter. "My father is marrying me off."
A beat of silence.
"Wait—what?"
"It's the Volkov family, Nina," i whispered.
The line went dead silent.
I could hear Nina's breathing shift—could feel the exact moment the words sank in.
Then, a sharp inhale.
"No. No way." Nina's voice rose, disbelief cutting through the quiet. "Please tell me you're joking."
"I wish I was," i choked out.
"The Volkovs? Alina—do you even hear yourself? That's—" Nina broke off.
She didn't need to finish the sentence. They both knew.
The Volkovs weren't just any family. They were untouchable. They were feared.
And Alina's father had just handed her to them.
"I can't believe this." Nina's voice shook. "I always knew your father was cold, but this? This is—" She stopped herself, like she couldn't even find the words.
I let out a hollow laugh. "Yeah, well. Neither can I."
Silence stretched between us.
"Alina, listen to me." Nina's voice was softer now. "You need to get out of this."
I shut her eyes. "How?"
Because the truth was, there was no way out.
"You can't," she admitted, and I could hear the frustration in her voice, the helplessness. "Not when it's the Volkovs. Not when your father has already decided."
Alina's stomach clenched. She had known the answer, but hearing it out loud made it feel final.
"I hate this." Nina's voice was shaking now, her anger barely contained. "I hate that I can't do anything. I hate that you—" She stopped, breathing in sharply. "Your father is a monster."