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"He wanted out?" Samuil's voice is barely a whisper, disbelief painting every word. "He wanted out, and he didn't tell me?"
Van looks on the verge of a breakdown, the weight of his betrayal clearly heavy on his conscience. "He wanted it to be a surprise. For you. For Ana. A way out for all of you. He said he had to make one final sacrifice for a fresh start."
One final sacrifice? That sounds so much like Viktor. Always thinking about the bigger picture, always ready to bear the burden alone.
"We've been wrong this whole time," I mutter, more to myself. "This wasn't about turf or power. This was personal."
Samuil nods, a new fire lighting up his eyes. "We need to find out who caught wind of Viktor's plan. And more importantly, we need to figure out how."
Van, sensing his immediate danger has passed, shifts uneasily. "Look, I've told you everything. Can I go now?"
Samuil gives him a long, hard look, clearly weighing the decision. Finally, he nods tersely. "Get out. And if you value your life, don't breathe a word of this to anyone."
Van doesn't need to be told twice. He scrambles up and without so much as a backward glance, disappears.
I sigh, feeling the weight of this revelation. "Samuil, we—"
"Later." His voice is gruff, clearly still processing. He moves to leave the room when I reach for the expensive bottle of champagne Van had ordered.
"What are you doing?" Samuil asks, his brows drawn together in confusion.
I smirk, twirling the bottle in my hand. "It would be a crime to let good alcohol go to waste. Besides," I wink, "we might need it."
His lips twitch into a reluctant smile. "Always one to see the silver lining, huh?"
"You know it." Holding the bottle like a trophy, I follow him out of the club, both of us now more determined than ever to uncover the truth and get to the bottom of this.
Chapter 12
Samuil
Ipull the bottle to my lips, taking another swig of the champagne. It's light and bubbly, a sharp contrast to the weight currently bearing on my mind.
Next to me, Ana moves with a silent grace, her form more subdued than usual. The bubbly liquid in the bottle we pass between us does little to lift the tension.
Her apartment building looms ahead, and as we reach the entrance, I can't help but break the silence, "You've been quiet."
She chuckles softly, "Considering the day, can you blame me?"
I can't, not really. The revelations, the danger, the newfound complexities in our relationship—it's a lot to take in.
"You are surprisingly gentleman-like," she teases, a playful glint in her eyes as I hold the door open for her.
I smirk. "Only for those I care about."
As we get to her front door, she begins fishing out her keys. But then she pauses, biting her lower lip, clearly wrestling with something.
"Ana?" I prod gently.
She sighs, shoulders slumping slightly. "I knew."
I raise a brow, "Knew what?"
"About Viktor. About his plan to move to the states." Her eyes are filled with a blend of guilt and defiance.
Shock bolts through me, freezing me on the spot. "You knew? Why didn't you tell me?"
She closes her eyes for a moment, collecting herself. "It wasn't my secret to tell, Samuil. Viktor made me promise. He said he was going to tell everyone when the time was right."
