The Tangled Truth: Between Betrayal and Belief

ch : 2

Jule pov

I stood in the kitchen, the aroma of shakshuka , a dish vibrant as the morning sun, wafting through the air. The sizzle of tomatoes and peppers mingling with spices was usually a comfort, but today, it was just noise in the background of my restless thoughts. Was Adrian going to come home? I sighed, a sound lost amidst the crackling of eggs poaching in the sauce.

With a heavy heart, I plated the breakfast for one and set it on the dining table. The empty chair across from me was a stark reminder of the night's silence, of Adrian's absence. I should call him, or text him, I thought. My fingers fumbled through the countertop clutter, searching for my phone, but it was nowhere to be found. Then it hit me-I had left it in the bedroom.

Ascending the stairs, i convinced myself . He is the strategist, the mastermind behind the scenes, the CEO of Volkova Company. His days are consumed with the of turning the tainted into the pure, black money into white, a modern-day alchemist in a suit and tie.

His brother, Luka, is the crowned head of this clandestine kingdom, the Mafia king whose name is whispered with a mixture of reverence and dread. Luka commands the storms, while Adrian charts the course through them, his mind a map of intricate pathways and hidden routes.

In this world, Adrian's preoccupation is not just an excuse; it's a necessity. Each moment of his day is a carefully placed step in a dance of danger and diplomacy. He moves with a grace that belies the weight of his burdens, his shoulders bearing the legacy of the Volkova name.

He was just detained by work. He couldn't always spare the time I craved; I knew that, yet it stung every time.

I pushed open the bedroom door, and there it was, my phone, lying innocently on the nightstand. I reached for it, the cool surface a stark contrast to my warm, anxious palm. Powering it on, the screen lit up with three notifications-all from an unknown number. My brow furrowed in confusion and a hint of worry.

The first was a missed call, but it was the text messages that drew my attention-a hotel address. My heart skipped a beat. The second message was like a punch to the gut: Adrian was at this hotel last night, and he hadn't left alone. A woman was with him. My hands trembled, the phone nearly slipping through my fingers. The words blurred as tears threatened to spill. Could this be true?

No, it had to be a lie, a sick joke. Adrian, my Adrian, would never betray me. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. It's just a joke, I told myself. A cruel, tasteless joke.

I was about to dial Adrian's number when an incoming call from the same unknown number interrupted me. My thumb hovered over the 'accept' button, shaking. I inhaled sharply and answered.

"Hello?" My voice was a whisper.

"Am I speaking to Mrs. Volkova?" The man's voice was unfamiliar, stern.

"Yes," I replied, my throat tight.

"As I said in the message, it's true. If you think this is a lie, it's not. I've given you the address. Go see for yourself. It's your choice," he said, and before I could utter a word in response, the line went dead.

Anger surged through me, hot and fierce. I clenched my jaw, my belief in Adrian unwavering. He wouldn't do this; he couldn't. I dialed his number, my heart pounding with each ring. But there was no answer. I called again, desperation coloring my tone. Adrian, where are you?

I dialed his number over and over, but each attempt met with silence. "What the actual hell is going on?" I muttered, frustration boiling over. The phone became an object of scorn in my hand, and I flung it onto the bed, pressing my palms against my forehead as I sank down onto the mattress. "Damn it, he was busy yesterday, he's just... busy," I tried to convince myself.