Owned By The Lie

Bloodlines

I wake to darkness.

Not the peaceful kind. The kind that presses down on my chest, thick and suffocating, laced with pain. My head throbs violently, each pulse sharp enough to steal my breath. For a moment, I don’t know where I am, or who I am.

Then memory crashes back.

The whisper.

My father’s name.

The blow.

I gasp, sucking in air that smells of damp concrete and metal. My wrists ache. When I try to move, chains rattle softly.

Panic rises fast and wild.

“No,” I whisper. “No, no, no…”

A light flicks on.

I squeeze my eyes shut, the sudden brightness burning. Footsteps echo closer, and slower,. Whoever is coming isn’t in a hurry.

“You always were dramatic, Elena.”

That voice.

I open my eyes.

Victor Volkov stands a few feet away, hands clasped behind his back, dressed impeccably as always. The dim light carves shadows into his face, deepening the lines I remember from childhood. He looks older. Harder.

But his eyes.

They’re the same.

Cold. Calculating andPossessive.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I say harshly.

He smiles. “Neither should you. Yet here we are.”

I test the chains again. Useless. “You hurt my mother.”

“I frightened her,” he corrects calmly. “There’s a difference.”

My vision blurs with rage. “You sent men to drag her like an animal.”

“I sent men to remind you who you belong to.”

I laugh, the sound breaking. “I don’t belong to you.”

Victor steps closer. Too close. His presence fills the room, crushing and familiar in the worst way.

“You are my blood,” he says softly. “You don’t get to erase that because you found a prettier cage.”

Something in his tone twists my stomach.

“Adrian isn’t my cage,” I snap.

Victor’s smile fades.

“So it’s true,” he says. “You’re sleeping with him.”

“I’m standing beside him,” I fire back. “Something you never did for us.”

Silence stretches between us, heavy and dangerous.

Then he sighs, as if disappointed. “I didn’t raise you to be careless.”

My heart pounds. “You didn’t raise me at all.”

That lands.

For a brief second, just once I see something flicker across his face. Regret. Or anger. It’s gone before I can decide.

“You think Adrian Vale is your savior,” Victor says. “But you don’t know what he’s hiding.”

I stiffened. “Don’t.”

“He’s not fighting this war for you,” Victor continues smoothly. “He’s fighting it for revenge.”

My breath catches. “Lies.”

Victor chuckles. “Ask him about his father.”

The word slices through me.

“My father?” I whisper.

“No,” Victor says calmly. “His.”

Before I can speak, the door slams open.

Gunfire erupts.

The world explodes into chaos,shouts, footsteps, the sharp c***k of bullets bouncing off concrete. Victor curses under his breath and steps back as armed men rush in.

Adrian’s men.

Relief hits me so hard I nearly sob.

Victor turns toward me one last time. “This isn’t over,” he says quietly. “You’re mine, Elena. No matter who’s holding your hand.”

He disappears into the shadows just as Adrian storms into the room.

His eyes find me instantly.

“Elena.”

He crosses the distance in seconds, dropping to his knees in front of me. His hands shake slightly as he unlocks the chains, checking me over like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he looks away.

“Are you hurt?” he demands.

“My head,” I whisper. “But I’m okay.”

The lie trembles.

Adrian exhales sharply and pulls me into his arms. For a moment, the world narrows to the sound of his heartbeat. Steady. Real.

“You should never have been alone,” he says harshly.

I pull back just enough to look at him. “He knew.”

Adrian’s jaw tightens. “I assumed he would.”

“He talked about your father,” I say quietly. “He said you’re doing this for revenge.”

Adrian freezes.

The silence tells me everything.

“What happened to your father?” I ask.

He looks away. “Not here.”

“Adrian.”

His eyes meet mine. Raw and q unguarded.

“Volkov tortured him,” he says. “For months. To force him to sign over assets. To break him.”

My chest tightens. “Did he survive?”

Adrian swallows. “Barely.”

Understanding settles heavy and sharp between us.

This isn’t just business.

This is blood for blood.

Sirens wail in the distance. Adrian stands and helps me up, his hand firm around mine.

“We leave now,” he says. “Everything changes after tonight.”

As we move toward the exit, I glance back at the dark room. The chains, the shadows, the echo of my father’s voice.

Victor Volkov didn’t just start this war.

He made it personal.