The confirmation made Anka’s stomach churn with a mixture of betrayal and dawning horror. This was what Viktor’s happiness had been built on—not their reconciliation, not the truth finally being revealed, but the knowledge that he now held her family’s future in his hands.
“You’re lying,” she said desperately, needing it to be true even as evidence mounted to the contrary. “Viktor wouldn’t—”
“Wouldn’t what? Wouldn’t use whatever weapons he could find to ensure his enemies couldn’t threaten him again?” Adrian’s expression was almost pitying. “Wake up, Anka. Thiswas never about love, forgiveness, or building a future together. This was about revenge, and you just gave him everything he needed to make it perfect.”
The words landed like physical blows, each one reinforcing truths she’d been too hopeful to recognize. Viktor’s tenderness after she’d confessed, his promises about choosing her first, his apparent contentment—it had all been performance, designed to keep her compliant while he destroyed her family from within.
She’d thought honesty would set them free. Instead, she’d handed him the keys to everything that mattered to the people she loved.
“I need to get back,” Adrian said, straightening his jacket with movements that suggested he was fighting to maintain control. “Matvei will notice if I’m gone too long, and your husband made it very clear that discretion is essential to our new arrangement.”
He started to walk away, then paused, looking back at her with something that might have been sympathy.
“For what it’s worth, I am sorry about what I did four years ago. But this—” he gestured toward the house where Viktor was presumably still playing the role of devoted husband “—this is what happens when you give a Nikolai reason to hold grudges.”
Alone in the garden, Anka struggled to process the magnitude of Viktor’s betrayal. She’d believed they were building something real, something that could transcend the pain of their past. Instead, she’d been a useful pawn in a longer game, valuable only for the access she provided to intelligence about her family’s operations.
The rest of the gathering passed in a haze of forced normalcy. Anka smiled at appropriate moments, contributed to conversations when directly addressed, and played the role of happy newlywed with enough skill that no one questioned her performance. But inside, she was systematically dismantling every moment of tenderness from the past weeks, re-framing Viktor’s actions through the lens of calculated manipulation.
The drive home was torture. Viktor made casual conversation about family dynamics and business prospects, his tone suggesting genuine contentment with how the day had progressed. Anka responded when necessary, but every word felt like glass in her throat.
It wasn’t until they were safely behind the closed doors of his study that she finally allowed her composure to crack.
“Why?” she asked, the single word carrying the weight of her devastation.
Viktor looked up from the files he’d been reviewing, his expression shifting from mild confusion to something more guarded when he saw her face.
“Why what?”
“Why did you threaten my brother? Why did you use the information I gave you to destroy any chance we had of actual peace?”
Understanding dawned in Viktor’s eyes, followed immediately by something that looked almost like relief. As if he’d been waiting for this confrontation, perhaps even anticipating it.
“Adrian told you about our conversation,” he said, settling back in his chair with the kind of calm that made Anka want to scream.
“He told me you have enough evidence to destroy our European operations. That you’re using it to make him dance to whatever tune you choose to play.” Anka’s voice was rising despite her efforts to maintain control. “Is that true?”
“Yes.”
The simple confirmation was somehow worse than elaborate justifications would have been. Viktor wasn’t denying his actions or attempting to soften their impact—he was owning them completely.
“We had peace,” Anka said desperately. “We finally understood what happened. We were building something real. Why would you destroy that for revenge?”
“We didn’t have peace.” Viktor’s voice carried the kind of certainty that brooked no argument. “We had a temporary ceasefire based on incomplete information. Adrian took you away from me, Anka. He lied to both of us, manipulated the situation to serve his own purposes, and let me believe for four years that you’d chosen to abandon me.”
“But you know the truth now! You know I loved you, that leaving you was the hardest thing I’d ever done—”
“Knowing the truth doesn’t erase what those years cost us.” Viktor stood, moving around the desk to face her directly. “Adrian destroyed our relationship based on lies and threats. He needs to understand that actions have consequences.”
Anka stared at him, seeing clearly for the first time the man she’d married. Not the tender lover who’d comforted her after her panic attack, not the considerate husband who’d learned to skydive to share her interests—the cold, calculating strategist who viewed emotional manipulation as just another tool in his arsenal.
“You have me now,” she said, hating how desperate she sounded. “Isn’t that enough? Can’t we just... be happy?”
The realization hit her with devastating clarity even as the words left her mouth. She was still in love with him. Despite everything—the arranged marriage, the revenge plot, the systematic manipulation of her emotions—she loved Viktor Nikolai with the same desperate intensity she’d felt at twenty years old.
It was pathetic. It was self-destructive. It was going to destroy her.
But it was also undeniably true.
