The honesty hung between them like a challenge, and Viktor watched Adrian process the admission. They’d dancedaround this conversation for months, addressing the practical aspects of their business partnership while carefully avoiding the personal history that had made that partnership necessary in the first place.
“She never stopped loving you,” Adrian said quietly, his voice carrying something that might have been regret. “Even when she was furious with me, even when she blamed me for destroying her happiness, she never stopped talking about you like you were the most important person in her world.”
Viktor felt something twist in his chest at the admission—pain for the years they’d lost, gratitude for Adrian’s honesty, and a fierce protective love for the woman who’d waited for him even when he’d given her every reason to move on.
“I know that now,” Viktor replied. “But at the time, all I could see was betrayal and loss. I convinced myself that making you suffer would somehow balance the scales, that revenge would fill the hole in my chest where contentment used to live.”
“Did it work?” Adrian asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.
“No.” Viktor’s answer was immediate and certain. “It just made the hole deeper. Every scheme I hatched, every contract I undermined, every small victory I achieved in my campaign against you—none of it brought me peace. It just made me angrier and more hollow until I couldn’t remember what happiness felt like.”
Adrian nodded slowly, understanding flickering in his expression. “I’ve made my share of decisions I regret. Threatening you the way I did, making Anka choose between her family and her heart—I told myself I was protecting her, but really I was just afraid of losing control.”
“Fear makes cowards of us all,” Viktor observed, thinking of his own terror at loving Anka so completely, at allowing someone else’s happiness to become more important than his own self-protection. “The difference is what we do with that fear—whether we let it drive us toward cruelty or push us toward courage.”
“And which are we choosing now?” Adrian asked, his voice carrying something that sounded almost like hope.
Viktor considered the question seriously, thinking of the contracts they’d negotiated fairly, the profits they’d shared equitably, and the way Adrian had begun offering genuine strategic insights rather than merely going through the motions of cooperation.
“I think we’re choosing to be better than our worst impulses,” Viktor replied finally. “I think we’re choosing to build something that serves both our families rather than destroying each other over past grievances.”
“For Anka’s sake,” Adrian added.
“For everyone’s sake,” Viktor corrected. “But yes, her happiness is my primary motivation. It always has been, even when I was too stupid and angry to recognize it.”
Adrian stood, extending his hand across the conference table with the kind of formality that marked important transitions. “Then I think we understand each other, Viktor. Whatever our history, whatever mistakes we’ve both made—we want the same thing now.”
Viktor shook the offered hand, feeling the symbolic weight of the gesture. It wasn’t friendship, exactly, and it certainly wasn’t forgiveness for all the pain they’d caused each other. But it was a partnership, marked by mutual respect and a commitment to choosing construction over destruction.
“There is one other matter we should discuss,” Adrian said as he gathered his briefcase, his voice taking on the careful neutrality that suggested sensitive information. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about Nick Barresi’s younger brother taking over the Italian operations.”
Viktor felt his expression harden at the mention of the Barresi name, memories of Nick’s harassment of Anka and the terror in her sisters’ eyes flooding back with uncomfortable intensity. “Marco Barresi. Yes, I’ve been tracking the situation.”
“He’s been asking questions about Nick’s death,” Adrian continued, his voice carrying warning. “Specifically about who was responsible and whether either of our families officially sanctioned it.”
“And what have you told him?” Viktor asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.
“Nothing. Nick Barresi kidnapped my sisters and threatened my family. As far as I’m concerned, he got exactly what he deserved, and anyone who wants to avenge him can take it up with me personally.”
Viktor felt a flicker of appreciation for Adrian’s loyalty, even as his strategic mind began calculating potential threats and necessary precautions. Marco Barresi had always been the smarter of the two brothers, more patient and calculating than Nick’s impulsive cruelty, which made him potentially more dangerous as an enemy.
“What’s your assessment of his capabilities?” Viktor asked, falling into the natural rhythm of strategic planning that had served both their families well over the months of their partnership.
“Dangerous but not immediately threatening,” Adrian replied thoughtfully. “He’s been consolidating power within theItalian operations, eliminating Nick’s supporters and installing his own people. My sources suggest he’s more interested in building his own empire than pursuing vendettas, but that could change if he decides our families represent obstacles to his ambitions.”
Viktor nodded, already mentally reviewing their security protocols and defensive capabilities. “We’ll keep monitoring the situation. If he becomes a problem, we’ll handle it together.”
The words carried weight beyond their strategic implications—a promise of mutual support that would have been unthinkable six months ago. Viktor watched Adrian register the commitment, saw the moment when professional partnership edged toward something that might eventually become a genuine alliance.
“Together,” Adrian agreed, and Viktor knew they understood each other completely.
After Adrian left, Viktor remained in the conference room for several minutes, staring out at the Moscow skyline and contemplating the strange turns his life had taken. A year ago, he’d been consumed with plans for revenge, driven by anger and pain that had shaped every decision he made. Now he was building partnerships with former enemies and planning a future that prioritized love over vengeance.
The transformation still surprised him sometimes, though he’d stopped questioning whether it was weakness or strength. Anka had taught him that strength came from choosing to build rather than destroy, from protecting what mattered rather than punishing what didn’t. It was a lesson he was still learning, but one that had already changed the fundamental nature of who he was becoming.
His phone buzzed with a text message from Anka:Meeting, running late. I’ll be at the house by 7 if you’d like to cook together. I picked up ingredients for that pasta dish you’ve been threatening to make.
Viktor smiled at the message, feeling warmth spread through his chest at the casual domesticity it implied. Cooking together had become one of their evening rituals, a way to transition from the intensity of their professional lives to the intimacy of their marriage. It was exactly the kind of simple happiness he’d never thought to want until Anka had shown him what peace could feel like.
