This wasn’t the careful, controlled encounter from their previous night together. This was a raw need and a desperate connection, four years of separation and pain and longing condensed into touches that felt like coming home and falling apart simultaneously.
When Viktor finally joined with her, when they moved together with the kind of synchronized intensity that suggested their bodies remembered what their minds had tried to forget, he felt something shift irrevocably in his understanding of what he wanted from this marriage.
This wasn’t revenge anymore. This was reclamation, recognition, the acknowledgment of something that had never really died despite years of anger and carefully constructed distance.
Afterward, they stayed wrapped around each other on his desk, breathing hard and reluctant to break the connection that felt too precious to risk. Viktor pressed his face against Anka’s neck, breathing in the scent that had haunted his dreams, trying to process the magnitude of what had just happened between them.
But when he finally pulled back to look at her, expecting to see satisfaction or contentment, he found guilt written across her features instead. The expression was so stark, so devastated, that it made his chest constrict with immediate concern.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice gentler than he’d used with her in weeks.
Anka’s eyes filled with tears that made his heart stutter with panic. She looked like someone preparing for execution, like someone who’d been carrying unbearable weight for too long.
“I need to tell you something,” she whispered, her voice breaking on the words. “About why I left. About what really happened four years ago.”
Viktor went still, every instinct screaming warnings he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear. But the devastation in Anka’s expression, the way her hands trembled against his chest, told him this was bigger than anything he’d imagined.
“Tell me,” he said, though part of him wanted to stop her before she could shatter whatever fragile understanding they’d just built.
The story that spilled out of her was worse than anything Viktor had constructed in his darkest moments. Adrian’s threats, the lies about the Nikolai family’s significance, the systematic manipulation designed to isolate her from the one person who’d ever seen her completely.
“He said he’d kill you slowly,” Anka whispered, tears streaming down her face as she relived the moment her world had collapsed. “He said your family was nothing, that they’d never be able to protect you from what he’d do if I didn’t end things. I was so scared, Viktor. I was twenty years old and terrified, and I thought... I thought I was saving your life.”
The revelation hit Viktor intensely, rewriting years of carefully constructed narrative in the space of a few sentences. The woman he’d married for revenge, the person he’d believed had played with his heart for amusement—she’d been a victimof the same family manipulation he’d witnessed with his own sister.
“You loved me,” he said slowly, the words feeling foreign on his tongue.
“I loved you,” Anka confirmed, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never stopped loving you. Even when I hated myself for what I’d done, even when I thought you were better off without me, I never stopped.”
The anger that had sustained Viktor for four years shifted focus with surgical precision. Not gone, but redirected toward its proper target. Adrian Volkov had orchestrated everything—the separation, the lies, the years of pain that had shaped both their lives.
Adrian, who was now integrating himself into their businesses under the guise of supporting Matvei’s leadership. Adrian, who had access to Nikolai operations, intelligence, and strategic planning. Adrian, who had taken Anka away from him and was now positioning himself to take everything else.
“He’s going to pay,” Viktor said, his voice carrying the kind of cold promise that had made him legendary in their world.
Anka’s eyes widened with something that looked like fear. “Viktor, no. Please. If you go after him, if this becomes about revenge—”
“This isn’t about revenge anymore,” Viktor interrupted, pulling her closer until she couldn’t mistake the sincerity in his expression. “This is about justice. Adrian Volkov destroyed four years of our lives based on lies and manipulation. He’s not going to destroy anything else.”
The plan was already forming in Viktor’s mind, intricate and devastating and perfectly calibrated to give Adrian exactly what he deserved. But first, there was something more important to address.
“I’m sorry,” he said, the apology carrying weight he hadn’t known he possessed. “For the way I’ve treated you, for believing you chose to leave, for making you pay for someone else’s crimes.”
Anka’s smile was tremulous but genuine, bright enough to light up corners of Viktor’s soul that had been dark for years. “We both believed lies that kept us apart. But we’re here now.”
They were here now. And Viktor was going to make sure that no one—not Adrian, not anyone—ever separated them again.
Chapter 19 - Anka
The sound of children’s laughter drifting from the Nikolai estate’s sprawling gardens should have been comforting. Anka stood at the French doors leading to the terrace, watching three-year-old Dmitri chase his older cousin around the fountain while their parents supervised from nearby chairs. The scene was domestic and peaceful—exactly the kind of family gathering that had once seemed impossible, given the brutal realities of their world.
She should have felt content. For the first time in four years, the weight of secrets wasn’t crushing her chest. Viktor knew the truth about their separation, understood that she’d loved him enough to sacrifice her own happiness rather than risk his life. The relief of finally being honest had been overwhelming, like surfacing after being underwater for too long.
But something felt wrong.
Viktor moved through the gathering with his usual controlled charm, accepting congratulations on their marriage and deflecting pointed questions about when they might provide the next generation of Nikolai heirs. To anyone watching, he appeared relaxed, engaged with his family in ways that suggested genuine contentment.
Only Anka noticed the predatory stillness beneath his polite exterior, the way his eyes tracked Adrian’s movements with the focused intensity of a hunter marking prey.
