Craved by the Wrong Volkov-Chapter 321: The Voss family

Braelyn’s POV

Their conversation slowly faded behind me as the butler led me deeper into the mansion. My mind was still trying to process everything Margaret had revealed.

The interior of the house was warm and beautifully decorated. Soft golden lighting filled the hallway, reflecting against polished wooden floors and cream coloured walls.

The atmosphere felt completely different from Yelena’s cold, intimidating home. This place felt more homely and warm. Our footsteps clicked against the marble floors as we continued across the large foyer.

As we walked further inside, my gaze drifted toward the walls. Several portraits hung along the long corridor.

Large framed photographs captured moments from decades of the Voss family history. Weddings, celebrations, family gatherings and quiet candid moments that had clearly been taken long before I was born.

I slowed my steps as my attention settled on one particular portrait. Margaret stood in the centre wearing an elegant evening gown. Her posture was graceful, her hair styled perfectly, yet something about the smile on her lips looked slightly forced.

Beside her stood a man who looked remarkably familiar and foreign at the same time. He had the same confident posture I had seen in my father countless times. My chest tightened slightly. That had to be Douglas.

My father’s younger brother. The resemblance between them was impossible to miss. For a moment it almost felt like I was staring at another version of my father. A sunnier version of Dad, unlike my father who is calm and composed. Douglas looked like a breath of fresh air.

Margaret looked stunning in the photograph. Anyone seeing it for the first time would probably think they were looking at the picture of a perfect couple.

No one would ever guess that the man beside her had once been a last minute replacement for the groom who ran away. That must have been a nightmare.

I studied Douglas more carefully. He looked surprisingly young in the photo. Younger than I expected. Margaret and Douglas must have been close in age, or perhaps he was even younger than her.

In another portrait, two young boys stood proudly in front of Margaret and Douglas. I could immediately recognise the taller boy as Elliot. Elliot bore a lot of resemblance to his mother Margaret. They had the same calm demeanour, although I could also see Douglas in him too.

So Margaret had two children. My gaze lingered on the image a moment longer.

The butler stopped walking for a moment, allowing me the time to admire the portraits before continuing down the corridor.

We passed several more photographs. Some showed the boys growing older. Others captured family dinners, birthday parties and holidays spent in places I did not recognise.

Eventually, we reached the grand staircase. The butler walked ahead as we climbed the wide marble steps. My footsteps echoed softly in the quiet house as we reached the upper floor.

The hallway upstairs was quieter, with softer lighting. He stopped in front of a large wooden door at the end of the corridor.

"This will be your room for tonight, miss," he said politely before opening the door. I stepped inside.

The room was large and beautifully prepared. Soft lighting illuminated the elegant furniture and the large bed positioned near the centre of the room. Fresh sheets had already been laid out and a small seating area rested near the tall window overlooking the gardens outside.

Everything looked carefully arranged ahead of time. For the first time since leaving Yelena’s mansion, I allowed myself to breathe properly.

The door closed quietly behind the butler as he left. Silence filled the room.

I stood there for a moment, taking in the calm surroundings. But even in this peaceful space, my mind refused to settle.

What happens now?

That question echoed repeatedly inside my head. My father had not only abandoned his family. He had abandoned an entire empire and somehow I had been pulled right back into it.

I had fled the Volkov family drama, but it felt like I had dragged myself into another chaos. "Everything will be fine," I muttered to myself even though I was not convinced.

A tired sigh escaped my lips as I finally walked toward the bed. The moment I sat down, the soft mattress dipped beneath my weight.

Without thinking too much about it, I leaned back and fell onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling while my thoughts continued racing.

Everything felt overwhelming. The mattress beneath me was unbelievably comfortable. Soft in a way I had almost forgotten existed. Sleeping on that cell mattress was torture.

My eyelids slowly grew heavier. Before I even realised it, the noise in my head began to fade. Within minutes, sleep quietly claimed me.

********

A soft knock pulled me out of sleep.

For a moment I remained still, my head still heavy with sleep. I did not want to wake up. The room was quiet and warm, and the comfort of the mattress wrapped around me like a gentle cocoon. I had not slept that deeply in what felt like ages.

Another knock followed, slightly louder this time. My pleasant expression drastically changed. I grumbled irritably.

I blinked slowly and rubbed my eyes before pushing myself upright. My body stretched instinctively as a sleepy groan escaped my throat. The sunlight filtering through the tall windows painted faint golden lines across the floor, telling me morning had already arrived.

Reluctantly, I slid my legs off the bed and walked toward the door, still half asleep. My hair was probably a mess and my mind was moving far slower than usual, but whoever was outside clearly intended to wake me.

When I opened the door, I was surprised by the sight waiting for me.

Margaret stood there with a gentle smile on her face. She was still dressed in a simple silk nightgown, her hair loosely tied behind her shoulders, and she was not holding her cane. It felt decorative.

Margaret stood perfectly straight, staring at my sleepy face with a smile. "Good morning, Braelyn," she said warmly. "Did you sleep well?"

Her voice was soft and pleasant, the kind that made it difficult to feel guarded around her.

I blinked again, trying to fully wake myself up. "Good morning," I replied, my voice still slightly hoarse from sleep. "I slept really well."

That was not an exaggeration. I could not remember the last time I had slept on such a comfortable bed.

Margaret nodded in satisfaction as if she had expected that answer.

"I am glad to hear that," she said before glancing down the hallway briefly. "You should get ready. We are having breakfast out this morning."

I stared at her for a second, still trying to catch up with the conversation.

"Breakfast out?" I repeated slowly.

She smiled, clearly amused by my confusion.

"We are going to the official Voss mansion," she explained. "I moved out of that house after Elliot took over the position as head of the family. It felt right to give him his own space to lead the family properly."