Page 49 of Royal Deception (Royals of the Underworld #2)

Annika

I stand at the entrance to the lavish venue, my eyes scanning the crowd. The air is thick with excitement, chatter, and the warm glow of celebration. It’s not lost on me how out of place I feel here, despite the welcoming atmosphere.

I take a deep breath, holding my chin high as I walk through the hall, determined to hold on to the last bit of dignity I have left.

Then I see her.

Clary’s eyes light up when she spots me, her face breaking into a wide smile.

“Ana!” she calls out.

My chest tightens, relief flooding through me because this moment could go either way, but seeing her warmth, her happiness, it eases the ache I didn't even know I had.

I make my way to her, but before I can even speak, I’m stopped.

Rory’s voice is harsh, the edge to it sending a chill down my spine. “What the hell is she doing here?”

I freeze. The smile on Clary’s face vanishes, and I watch as her expression changes, confusion flickering across her features.

My heart squeezes painfully.

“I… Clary, I…” I step forward, wanting to explain, but Rory’s glare sharpens, and he moves in front of her, the protective fierceness radiating off him like a storm.

“You’re Anatoly Volkov’s daughter.” His voice is low, but it’s a growl, a challenge, like he's daring me to admit it.

“Yes,” I say quietly, my throat tightening. “But I didn’t know who Clary was when we first met. I had no idea. I swear, Rory, please, let me explain.” My voice falters, my regret weighing heavily on me.

Clary looks at me, her lips trembling, the anger mixed with pain, and I feel like I’m sinking deeper with every second that passes. Betrayal is written all over her features. I scramble to try to explain myself, but the words feel heavy and useless on my tongue.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Clary. I never did.

I just…” My voice shakes, but I keep going, fighting the lump in my throat.

“When I realized who you were, who he was, it was too late. I had already… I had already fallen into this mess.” I motion to the tension between Rory and me, to the world I was born into, and yet, Clary was different. She was nothing like that.

“I just wanted to come and congratulate you,” I say, my voice soft but firm. “And then I’ll leave. I promise.”

Rory’s eyes are cold, unyielding. “You’ve got two minutes.”

I nod, my throat thick with emotion. This was all I ever wanted—just a chance to be on the outside, to be seen for something other than my last name, for something good. But that’s not how the world works, is it? Not in my world.

I swallow hard, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

The moment feels fleeting, fragile. This chance I’ve been given, it’s slipping through my fingers.

Clary’s eyes soften a little, but I know the weight of the situation lingers.

This is only the beginning of making things right, and that’s not guaranteed.

I step forward and wrap my arms around her, hugging her tightly. “I’m so sorry, Clary. I’m truly happy for you,” I whisper. Her arms hesitantly come around me, but there’s an edge to her movements, a wariness I can’t ignore.

I pull away after a beat, offering her a tight smile, but the smile she gives back doesn’t reach her eyes. It’s not her fault. I’ve given her every reason to be cautious, to doubt me.

“I’ll leave now,” I say quietly, already turning to make my exit. But I don’t get far. My mind races as I glance across the room, looking for him . Liam.

I spot him by the door, speaking to someone, his broad back to me. My heart beats harder. He hasn’t looked my way once, hasn’t acknowledged my presence, and the distance between us stings. But I can’t leave without speaking to him, without seeing him.

I walk toward him slowly, my pulse quickening with every step. I wait for him to acknowledge me, but he doesn’t.

“Liam,” I say softly, and the way his shoulders tense makes my stomach drop. His jaw clenches as he turns toward me. His eyes—cold, distant—pierce through me.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he mutters, his tone hard and unforgiving.

I feel my heart crack at the words, but I press on. “Please, I need to talk to you. Just outside, for a minute.”

He looks at me for a long moment, his gaze calculating. The silence between us stretches, and I can see the conflict brewing behind his eyes, the familiar tension that’s been there since the moment I stepped into his life.

“No,” he says flatly. “You don’t belong here, Annika.”

But I don’t give up. “Liam, please,” I beg, my voice dropping to almost a whisper.

“You cared for me once. Please, for the sake of our past, I have to talk to you. I’m in danger.

I—” I cut myself off, my breath catching.

He looks at me sharply, and I can see something shift in his eyes, something more than just disbelief.

He stares at me for a moment longer, then curses under his breath. “I don’t want to cause a scene,” he mutters, his voice low, tight with the frustration he’s holding back. “Let’s get outside.”

I nod, relief flooding me as he turns and starts walking toward the exit, and I quickly follow in his wake.

The evening air hits my skin, a cool contrast to the heat swirling inside me.

I don’t know what I expected—maybe for him to shout at me or storm off in anger—but instead, he just feels… cold. More so than before.

We reach a quiet spot just outside the venue, the hum of the distant music barely audible. I pause for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts, but the desperation surges up again, and I pull the envelope from my bag.

His brow furrows when I hold it out to him. “What the hell is that?”

“Ten thousand dollars,” I say, my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest. “I’m hiring you, Liam.”

His eyes narrow in disbelief. “You’re not serious.”

“I am.” I swallow hard. “I need you. I need a bodyguard. I’m not safe, not anymore.”

He looks at the envelope, then back at me, as though trying to figure out whether I’m playing some kind of game. His hands remain at his sides, tense. "What makes you think I’ll do this? You know I’m not a fucking mercenary."

“I know,” I reply quickly, almost pleading. “I wouldn't ask if I had any other options. But I need your protection, Liam. I—” My voice catches, and I quickly regain my composure. "I can’t do this alone.”

I feel the weight of his gaze on me, and something shifts, just slightly. Maybe it’s my imagination, but I see something soften in his gaze, ever so slightly.

But then he scoffs, his mouth twisting in disbelief as he looks at the envelope in his hand. “You think I’m just gonna be your bodyguard for cash?” His tone is sharp, mocking. “I don’t do babysitting for the Volkovs.”

I take a step closer, my voice quiet but urgent. “It’s not that simple, Liam. I’m not asking for favors. I’m asking for your protection. Because you’re the only one I trust who can get me out of this mess.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “What the hell could possibly have you so scared?”

I hesitate for a moment, gathering my courage. “When Anatoly was arrested, his lieutenants went on a rampage. They thought someone leaked the information, and they went through every last detail to figure out who did it. They looked into everything, and…”

I let the words hang for a moment, giving him a chance to process what I’m about to say.

“They found out it was my keycard. The one used to access Anatoly's office the night the information went missing.”

Liam freezes, his eyes narrowing as the weight of my words hits him. His grip on the envelope tightens, but he doesn’t say anything for a long moment.

“You’re telling me you were the one who…” His voice trails off, disbelief still laced with suspicion.

I shake my head quickly, desperate to make him understand. “No, Liam, I swear I didn’t leak anything. I’m being framed. Someone planted the evidence to make it look like I was the one who accessed the office, but I didn't do it.”

His eyes harden, his expression still guarded. “You’ve always had a knack for weaseling your way out of situations, haven’t you?”

I flinch at the accusation, but I push through it. “I’m not lying about this. I don’t want this—any of it. But they’ve turned everything against me, and now my father…” I trail off, my throat tightening as the weight of reality hits me. “Liam, I think Anatoly has put a hit out on me.”

His brows furrow in confusion, but he doesn’t seem fully convinced. "That’s your problem, Annika. You’ve always made your messes. Now you deal with them."

I feel my chest tighten, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me as I swallow hard.

“I can’t deal with this alone. I don’t even know how to survive this.

” My voice cracks, and I see the hard edges of his expression begin to soften just slightly.

“I know you want nothing to do with me anymore, but… I don’t have anyone else.

Not like you. Please, I need your help.”

Liam shifts his weight, clearly uncomfortable with my desperation, but he doesn’t turn away.

“So, what’s the deal, then? You want me to protect you from your father and his people?

You want me to risk everything for you?” He exhales, clearly frustrated.

“I’m not some hired gun anymore. I don’t do that shit. ”

I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes, and I know I’m pushing it. But I can’t hold back any longer. “I didn’t want any of this, Liam. But after you and I broke up… after everything fell apart…” I take a shaky breath, trying to steady myself. “I found out I was pregnant.”

The words hang in the air, and Liam’s face betrays nothing. His mouth opens, then closes as if searching for the right response, but none come.

“You had a kid?” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nod, finally meeting his gaze with all the vulnerability I’ve been hiding for so long. “Yeah. We have a daughter, Liam.”