Fine.
I exhale once, slow and controlled.
If he wants Moscow to become a battlefield, I’ll turn it into one he can’t walk away from.
The jet accelerates down the runway.
And we leave the ground behind.
Chapter 29 – Valeria
I’m brought back to the Petrov estate in Moscow.
My childhood home.
The gates open like they remember me—but the feeling is wrong. Anton has made it his own.
The estate still stands in its old bones—grand, imposing, built to command respect—but everything inside it has been subtly reshaped. Guards where they shouldn’t be. New security points layered over old ones. Familiar halls now carrying unfamiliar weight.
It doesn’t feel like home anymore.
It feels occupied.
Controlled.
I’m escorted inside without force, but there is no illusion of choice. Two armed men walk just behind me, not touching, not threatening—just present enough to remind me what this is.
A transfer of custody.
Still, the staff react differently.
I recognize some of them.
Some avoid my eyes completely, afraid to acknowledge me. Others pause for just a second too long, recognition flickering behind their expressions before they force it away.
And some—older ones—lower their heads slightly.
Careful respect.
Not loyalty to Anton.
Memory.
They remember who my father was. What this house once meant. What it used to stand for before blood changed everything.
That alone steadies something in my chest.
I’m guided through the corridors I once ran through as a child. The walls are the same, but they feel narrower now. Like the house itself has been constrained by what it’s become.
Every step forward reminds me of something I’ve lost—and something I haven’t given up yet.
My hand rests instinctively near my stomach as I walk. Aware of what I have to lose.
I’m not alone in this anymore.
And Anton knows it.
That’s why I’m here.
