The following days were a parade of closed doors, whispers in passing and stares that weighed more than the invisible shackles that Ana dragged. But it wasn't just the punishment for the false accusation... it was something more.
Viktoria had found a new way to use her.
-I need you to dress nicely," she ordered her one morning as she tossed her an expensive, sober but elegant dress. Tonight you will attend a diplomatic dinner with me. And I want no excuses.
Ana blinked. -A dinner?
-Don't think, just do as you're told. You're going to smile, nod, and above all... shut up.
Ana obeyed. Because she had no choice.
The evening took place in one of the private rooms of the local Parliament. The guests were political figures, businessmen, representatives of international foundations. They all smiled hypocritically. Viktoria moved like a queen, flaunting her family name, surrounded by powerful men who feared her more than they respected her.
Ana, dressed like a lady but feeling like just another trophy, stood by her side. When someone asked who she was, Viktoria smiled coldly.
-A ward of the family," she would say. A young woman with a lot of potential.
At that dinner there was talk of dirty contracts, of favors exchanged like wine glasses. Ana realized, with horror, that she was not just a silent assistant. She was the bait.
One of the businessmen, a mature man with a greasy face and sweaty hands, kept staring at her. Later, Viktoria pulled her aside in a corner and whispered to her:
-You don't have to do anything, just be nice. Tell him that the Vasiliev family values him, that we'll be in touch. And if you smile enough... maybe they won't cut our funding this quarter.
Ana felt nauseous. She was being used. Not just as a maid, not just as Lucian's secret. Now also as a chess piece in Viktoria's political game.
But the worst was not that night.
The worst was that, upon returning home, Lucian didn't say a word. He didn't ask where he had been. He didn't seem upset. He didn't even look surprised.
And that hurt her more than anything.
Because she was no longer just a prisoner of a mansion. She was a prisoner of the interests of a family for whom her life... was worth no more than a mere strategic move.