Chapter 10 - The Secret Behind “You're Mine”|
I stood in the old Orlov villa, staring at two men who had spent decades pretending to be dead.
My father.
Marius's father.
Two men who had manipulated families, destroyed trust, and apparently arranged my future before I was old enough to choose anything for myself.
Alexei Orlov smiled as though he had just won a game.
"Elena, your mother was a clever woman."
I folded my arms.
"Don't talk about her."
His smile faded.
"She kept records of everything."
"Then she was smarter than you."
Marius stepped beside me.
Alexei's eyes narrowed.
"Still defending her?"
Marius answered quietly.
"Yes."
"Even after learning she was promised to you before you met?"
Marius looked at me.
"Especially now."
I swallowed.
Alexei laughed.
"You're both fools."
Sergei stepped forward.
"Enough."
For the first time, my father sounded angry.
Alexei turned.
"Don't pretend you've developed a conscience."
Sergei's jaw tightened.
"Elena was never supposed to be involved."
"She's your daughter. She was always involved."
I looked at my father.
"Then tell me the truth."
He closed his eyes.
"Your mother discovered the financial records behind the old shipping operation."
"And?"
"She realized Alexei and I were hiding money through legitimate companies."
My stomach tightened.
"Was she part of it?"
"At first, she handled documents without knowing what they concealed."
"And when she discovered the truth?"
Sergei looked down.
"She wanted out."
I swallowed.
"What happened?"
Alexei answered.
"She became inconvenient."
Marius moved forward.
"Watch your mouth."
Alexei smiled.
"Still the protective son."
Marius stared at him.
"I'm not protecting your secrets anymore."
Alexei's expression changed.
Then he laughed.
"You think you can walk away from the family?"
Marius nodded.
"Yes."
"You'll lose everything."
"Then I'll lose it."
My chest tightened.
Alexei looked genuinely shocked.
For years, Marius had spent every waking hour protecting the Orlov empire.
He had negotiated contracts.
Built alliances.
Defended territory.
Sacrificed sleep, friendships, and peace.
Now he was willing to let it all go.
I looked at him.
"Marius..."
He turned.
His expression softened.
"I meant what I said."
My eyes filled with tears.
"About what?"
"You're not something I own. I won't build my future on someone else's agreement."
Alexei slammed his hand against the table.
"Enough!"
The room went silent.
He pointed toward the recording device.
"Your mother left that evidence in a private account. If it's released, every agreement we've built collapses."
I looked at him.
"Good."
Alexei stared.
"What?"
"Good."
I stepped forward.
"If those agreements were built through threats, fraud, and lies, then they deserve to collapse."
Sergei looked at me.
"Elena, you don't understand the consequences."
I met his eyes.
"No. You don't understand."
My voice trembled.
"For fifteen years, I cried over your grave. I grew up believing my father was dead. I worked hard to make a life for myself. And now you're telling me you planned everything?"
Sergei's expression broke.
"My little star—"
"Don't."
He stopped.
I wiped my cheeks.
"You don't get to call me that until you understand what you've done."
Silence.
Then Marius reached for my hand.
I took it.
For the first time, I wasn't frightened of what that choice meant.
I knew who he was.
A complicated man.
A dangerous man.
A man capable of mistakes.
But also a man who was finally learning that love required something he'd never been taught.
Trust.
And freedom.
We left the villa together.
Outside, the sea shimmered beneath the late afternoon sun.
Dimitri waited near the car.
Marius stopped beside me.
"Elena."
I turned.
He looked nervous.
Actually nervous.
It was almost unbelievable.
"What?"
"I need to ask you something."
I smiled faintly.
"Then ask."
He took a breath.
"Will you come back to work for me?"
I stared.
Then laughed.
Marius's expression changed.
"That was the wrong question."
"Very wrong."
He smiled.
A real smile.
The kind I'd fallen in love with three years ago.
"Then let me try again."
He took both my hands.
"Would you consider having dinner with me?"
My heart raced.
"Just dinner?"
"Just dinner."
"No business calls?"
"No business calls."
"No guards hovering over the table?"
"Only whatever security we both agree is necessary."
I smiled.
"No telling me what to order?"
He laughed softly.
"I wouldn't dare."
I looked at him.
For three years, I'd imagined this moment.
Marius Orlov asking me on a date.
Not because I worked for him.
Not because someone arranged it.
Not because our families demanded it.
Because he wanted to spend time with me.
I nodded.
"Yes."
His expression softened.
"Yes?"
"Yes, Marius. I'll have dinner with you."
He leaned closer.
"May I kiss you?"
I smiled through tears.
"Yes."
He kissed me gently.
And for one beautiful moment, I believed the worst was behind us.
But as we pulled away from the villa, my phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
It showed my mother.
Alive.
Standing outside a small house in Switzerland.
My heart stopped.
The timestamp was from yesterday.
I stared.
"No."
Marius turned.
"What is it?"
I handed him the phone.
His expression changed.
"Elena..."
A second message arrived.
Your mother didn't die in the accident.
My hands began trembling.
A third message appeared.
She disappeared because she knew what Alexei and Sergei had planned for you.
I couldn't breathe.
Marius gripped my hand.
"Who sent this?"
"I don't know."
Then the phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
"Hello?"
A woman's voice spoke.
Soft.
Familiar.
A voice I'd heard in dreams for six years.
"Elena."
My heart stopped.
"Mom?"
The woman began crying.
"My baby."
Tears streamed down my cheeks.
"Where are you?"
"Somewhere safe."
"Why didn't you come back?"
A long silence.
Then she whispered:
"Because the man beside you was never supposed to fall in love with you."
I looked at Marius.
He stared at me.
"What?"
My mother's voice trembled.
"Elena, listen carefully."
I gripped the phone.
"Tell me."
"Everything you've discovered is only part of the truth."
My heart pounded.
"Then what haven't you told me?"
She took a shaky breath.
Then said:
"Alexei Orlov isn't Marius's biological father."
I froze.
Marius's face went white.
"What?"
My mother continued.
"And Sergei Volkov isn't yours."
The world seemed to stop.
For several seconds, I couldn't breathe.
Then I whispered:
"Who is my father?"
My mother's voice broke.
"Elena, the answer is in the letter I left behind."
I looked down at my mother's old letter, still folded inside my bag.
"The letter?"
"There's a second page."
My heart raced.
"Where?"
"Inside the lining of the envelope."
I opened my bag with shaking hands.
Pulled out the envelope.
Tore the lining carefully.
A folded sheet slipped into my palm.
I opened it.
My mother's handwriting filled the page.
My darling Elena,
If you are reading this, the past has finally reached you.
You deserve to know why I kept you away from the Orlov family.
And why I begged Marius never to discover who you really were.
My breath caught.
I read the final sentence.
Then the world went silent.
Your biological father is Viktor Sokolov.
I stared.
Viktor.
My uncle.
The man Marius believed had killed his father.
The man who had appeared in Naples after seventeen years.
The man who had sent Marco Santini to contact me.
Marius looked at the letter.
His expression became unreadable.
"Elena..."
My phone vibrated.
Another message.
This time, a video.
I pressed play.
Viktor Sokolov sat in a dimly lit room.
Beside him stood my mother.
Alive.
He looked directly into the camera.
"Hello, Elena."
My hands shook.
"I know you've been told terrible things about me."
He paused.
"Most of them are lies."
Then my mother stepped forward.
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Sweetheart, there's one more thing."
I could barely breathe.
"What?"
She looked directly into the camera.
"The man you've loved for three years isn't the man he believes himself to be."
Marius leaned closer.
His face drained of color.
My mother continued.
"Marius Orlov was born under another name."
The video flickered.
Then she whispered:
"And the truth about his birth is the reason our families have been trying to keep you apart."
The screen went black.
I stared at Marius.
He stared at me.
Neither of us spoke.
Then his phone rang.
Dimitri.
Marius answered.
"What?"
His expression hardened.
"When?"
A pause.
"Are you certain?"
He looked at me.
The blood drained from his face.
I gripped his arm.
"Marius?"
He ended the call.
Then whispered:
"Viktor Sokolov just arrived at my office."
My heart stopped.
"And?"
Marius looked toward the darkening sky.
"He brought a birth certificate."
I swallowed.
"Whose?"
Marius's voice broke.
"Mine."
And somewhere in Naples, the truth we'd spent our entire lives avoiding was finally waiting to be opened.
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TO BE CONTINUED...
Clarify the family-history timelineResolve the biological-parent contradictions
