And then, while they were distracted by whatever bullshit story she was spinning, Anka pulled the oldest trick in the book. She pointed at something behind them, and when they turned to look, she slipped away into the crowd like a ghost.
His men stood there for a full ten seconds, looking around in confusion, before one of them swore loudly enough that Viktor could see his mouth moving.
She’d done it again. Played them, manipulated them, and escaped while they stood there like idiots, probably still thinking about her smile.
“Son of a bitch,” he breathed.
“Should we pursue?” Marcus asked.
“No.” He closed the tablet with more force than necessary. “Let her have her fun. She’ll have to come home eventually.”
But as they drove back to the compound in silence, Viktor couldn’t shake the image of Anka’s face when she’d been shopping. The pure joy in her expression, the lightness in her step, the way she seemed to come alive in a way he hadn’t seen since their early days together.
She’d been happy out there. Truly happy, maybe for the first time since their wedding.
And he’d tried to ruin it by terrorizing her with a fake kidnapping.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
He’d married her for revenge, told himself he wanted to make her suffer the way she’d made him suffer. But watching her today, seeing the woman she became when she wasn’t trapped in his fortress with a husband who made no secret of his hatred, he was starting to wonder who was really being punished here.
She’d escaped his compound like it was child’s play, evaded his security team, and turned his own men against him with nothing but charm and conversation. She was everything he remembered and more—clever, resourceful, impossible to contain.
And he was the one sitting in the back of an SUV, obsessing over her smile and remembering the way she used to look at him like he was worth something.
Maybe Kostya was right. Maybe he needed to pick a lane, decide whether he was her enemy or her husband, whether he wanted revenge or something else entirely.
But as they pulled through the gates of the compound, he caught sight of a familiar figure slipping through the gardens, like she’d never left. Anka had beaten them home, probably by hours, and was now pretending she’d been there all along.
The sight of her should have infuriated him. Instead, all he could think about was how fucking magnificent she looked with her hair mussed from her adventure and her cheeks flushed with triumph.
Anka 1, Viktor 0.
Chapter 5 - Anka
The adrenaline was still coursing through Anka’s veins as she slipped through the back entrance of the mansion, her shopping bags clutched in trembling hands. Her heart hadn’t stopped racing since those two men had tried to grab her outside the boutique, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something about the whole thing had been off.
Professional kidnappers didn’t usually laugh at their target’s jokes or get distracted when someone pointed out a cute dog across the street. They also didn’t look genuinely confused when their target slipped away, like they weren’t quite sure how they’d lost her.
But she was safe now, back in Viktor’s fortress, where the only danger came from her husband’s cold fury and not random criminals on the street. Though honestly, she wasn’t sure which was worse.
She made it halfway to the stairs before a voice stopped her cold.
“Going somewhere?”
Viktor stood in the doorway of his study, his ice-blue eyes locked on the shopping bags in her hands. He was still wearing the black suit from earlier, but his tie was gone, and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing the intricate tattoos that covered his forearms. He looked dangerous and predatory, and every instinct Anka had was screaming at her to run.
“Just returning from a walk,” she said, proud that her voice came out steady despite the way her pulse was hammering.
“A walk.” His smile was sharp enough to cut glass. “Through the Meatpacking District, apparently.”
Fuck. He knew. Of course he knew. The man probably had satellites tracking her every move.
“I needed some air,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly. “Last I checked, I wasn’t a prisoner here.”
“Weren’t you?” He stepped closer, controlled violence radiating from every line of his body. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve been testing the boundaries of your cage.”
“My cage?” The words came out sharper than she intended. “Is that what you think this is?”
