Craved by the Wrong Volkov-Chapter 147: Her reflection

Braelyn’s POV

My blood turned cold, eyes locked on the door as my body trembled. I abruptly stood up, knocking the phone to the floor. I didn’t think and just ran immediately.

The scream echoed again, sharper this time, slicing through my chest as I bolted down the stairs running out the door into the hallway. My feet barely touched the steps when a solid body suddenly appeared in front of me.

I crashed straight into Lucien. Strong hands caught my wrists instantly stopping me in my tracks. "Braelyn.." His voice was rough, edged with panic. "Are you okay?" he asked, grabbing my shoulders as his eyes instantly started to assess me.

For a second, I just stared at him. Flabbergasted by the unholy scene I forgot the reason I ran down.

He was standing there with nothing but a towel slung low around his waist, water still clinging to his skin. His hair was damp, darker than usual, droplets sliding down the sharp lines of his jaw and over his collarbone. Steam followed him out of the master’s bathroom, carrying the clean, faint scent of soap.

He just ran out of the shower. My traitorous eyes drifted around his body noticing his broad shoulders, lean muscle and the subtle flex of his arms as his grip tightened, as if he was grounding himself through me. The panic in his eyes slowly faded

When he turned slightly, I caught a glimpse of the ink that covered his back, dark lines and symbols that crept up his spine and disappeared beneath his neck. It made him look dangerous.

"Did you scream?" he asked urgently, searching my face.

I blinked, snapping myself out of it. "No," I said quickly, shaking my head. "I’m fine. It wasn’t me."

His brows pulled together in confusion. "Then who..." he was cut off as our attention was drawn to a low groan floated up from below.

Both our heads snapped toward the stairs. At the bottom, near the entryway, a figure was crouched on the floor. Shards of a shattered vase glittered around her like ice. An elderly woman struggled to sit upright, one hand braced against the wall.

"Someone’s hurt," I breathed.

I pulled free from Lucien’s hold and rushed down the remaining steps. "Wait..Braelyn," he called after me, but I didn’t stop. I rushed down the stairs to the lady. It immediately clicked, she must be the housekeeper who supervised the cleaning and gardening.

I dropped to my knees beside her. "Are you alright?" I asked gently, already scanning her for injuries.

She looked shaken, her hands trembling, but she waved me off. "I’m fine... just careless," she muttered, her accent thick. A thin cut bled along her palm. Agnes the name clicked instantly. I’d seen it on the property report Gregor had sent.

"Are you hurt?," I said softly, helping her to sit up properly. "You’re bleeding."

She barely seemed to hear me. She struggled to stand up, she was a bit old for this role. I wondered why Gregor still let her manage the villa. According to what he explained Dad was the one who delegated Agnes to manage things

Her gaze lifted slowly, then locked onto my face. The colour drained from hers. She stared at me like she’d seen a ghost.

Her lips parted, and her finger rose, shaking as she pointed straight at me. "A... Avelina..."

My heart stuttered as my eyes narrowed at her. Mum’s name. Did she mistake me for Mum because of our resemblance? That meant she knew Mum.

"What?" I whispered.

She recoiled slightly, blinking hard. "No..no," she murmured, shaking her head. "That’s not right. Avelina is dead." Her eyes softened, confusion clouding them. "But you... You look just like her. Like a mirror."

A smile crossed my lips. Dad used to joke when I complained about not having enough things to remember Mum, that I should just stare at the mirror and she would be staring back. I guess he wasn’t wrong.

I felt rooted to the spot. Lucien’s footsteps sounded behind me. "Braelyn?" he called, clearly unsettled.

I turned quickly and my face burned. He was still half-naked with just that towel. "She fell," I said before he could say anything else. "It’s the housekeeper. Agnes I think she’s alright."

He hesitated, eyes flicking between us, then down at his towel like he suddenly remembered he was half naked. "I’ll..." He exhaled. "I’ll get dressed."

"Please," I added quietly, prying my eyes from him. "Everything’s fine."

He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded and headed back upstairs.

"Is he Raphael your husband?" Agnes asked, leaving me speechless. I shook my head. "No, he is not Raphael." I simply said. Agnes sensed something was off and went quiet.

Once he was gone, I guided Agnes to the sofa and sat beside her. "Are you sure you’re not hurt?" I asked again to lead her into the sitting room, which wasn’t far away.

She waved it off with a tired smile. "I’ve had worse," she said. Then she looked at me properly this time, her expression softening as she reached out for my hand. "I’m glad you finally came."

Her eyes were filled with complex emotions.

"Came?" I echoed.

"Yes," she said gently. "After Gregor died, I was told to return to the villa. That you would come. Eventually, although I hoped you would come earlier, while your father was still alive."

My chest tightened. "You knew my parents and Gregor," I muttered. Agnes nodded. She was elderly a bit older than Ronan.

"Yes I have served this villa for years, your parents used to visit here every year until you were born." My gaze dulled, and they stopped because Mum died when I was born.

"Gregor used to drop by with his wife and some friends." Agnes looked dazed like she was reminiscing.

I smiled stiffly. "Do you mind if I ask a question?"

She froze for a moment looking hesitant to answer. "Sure dear." She forced the words.

I swallowed a lump in my throat. "Have you heard ringing before from the attic?" I asked her and something flashed through her eyes.

"You were in the attic." She whispered. I hesitated but nodded slowly.

Agnes sighed. "That means you saw their things. Your father moved everything up there after she died." She explained.

Something tightened in my chest. Why did it feel like Avelina’s death was a trigger for Dad?

"The ringing..I heard.." Agnes sighed once more.

"It is an old recorded playback during the last maintenance. I think something broke, and the phone has been ringing in a loop. Someone was meant to come over and fix it today." She explained.

A weight left my chest, so it wasn’t a ghost, but that bedroom left an unsettling feeling.

"Lynn.." I heard Lucien call, and I slowly raised my head. Agnes cleared her throat and then stood up.

"I am sorry for the mess. I will clean it up." She said as her gaze flickered to Lucien. There was a slight frown on her face. She was probably figuring out why I came with him instead of Raphael.

"Please excuse me." She added before leaving. Lucien’s gaze settled on me.

"You look like you saw a ghost. Did I miss anything?" He stalked towards me. I brushed him off releasing a tired sigh.

"Not really," I replied. He sat beside me quietly for a moment before adding.

"I don’t know if this is a good time but I think I have been able to secure a meeting with Killian?"

My head snapped towards him. My eyes widened. "Really." He smiled.

"Yeah, but it’s a bit complicated ."