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I clench my fists. "Why?"
"They refuse to be humiliated by a woman," he says, his voice dripping with regret. "They'll do anything, use any trick in the book to ensure she doesn’t win."
The atmosphere in the warehouse is charged. The weight of the information hits me like a ton of bricks. Ana's in even more danger than we thought.
Andrei's voice cuts through my thoughts, "We're done here." He signals for the men to be taken away, casting a final, threatening glance at them.
I exit the warehouse, the night air cold against my skin, the past moments events still fresh in my mind. The Romanian mob won’t stop at anything, and it’s clear that Ana's next fight is going to be the fight of her life. I need to convince her to throw the match.
The sting from the wound is a sharp reminder of how dangerous this world can be. As I press against it, I see a hint of fresh blood staining the fabric. The stitches from Nat's work still fresh, pull and twinge as I move. Her instructions replay in mymind, a stern warning to rest, not to exert myself, to let my body heal.
But duty and emotions push those rational thoughts aside as I brace myself to enter the main room where the family gathers. Every step reverberates with the weight of the information we've just learned.
I push the door open, finding a sea of familiar faces. My gaze instantly searches for Ana. Her eyes, fierce and filled with fire, meet mine. I can tell Andrei has already relayed everything. She’s ready for a fight, but not the one I'm expecting.
"How dare they? How dare they threaten me, threaten Viktor?" Her voice rings out, filled with defiance and anger.
"We need to strategize, Ana. Not charge in recklessly."
She steps closer, poking a finger into my chest. "I’m not going to be sidelined just because some guy can’t handle losing to a chick."
I grab her wrist, the room's temperature rising with tension. "You need to think! They aren’t above playing dirty. What happened to me tonight could easily happen to you."
A murmur of agreement from the family fills the room, but Ana's face only grows more resolute. "I can handle myself. I've always had to."
I can feel the frustration bubbling up inside me. "I don't want to see you hurt. I don’t want you risking your life over this. There’s always another way."
Ana's lips form a tight line. "You know, I thought out of everyone, you'd understand why I need to do this. This is for Viktor, for us. For our future."
Everyone is watching us, witnessing this raw confrontation. I know I need to be careful with my next words, but emotions are running high. "Ana, I can't lose you. Can't you see? I can’t stand by and watch you step into a world where the odds are stacked against you."
She's getting angrier, her chest heaving with every breath. “You think I can't handle it?"
“No! It’s not that. It’s just—”
“Then what is it, Samuil?" she snaps, her voice breaking, eyes wet with unshed tears.
The room's deafening silence is pierced by the weight of my confession. A confession that I hadn’t planned on making, at least not now, not like this.
"Because I love you!" I blurt out louder than intended. Every emotion, every feeling I’ve bottled up over the years, comes pouring out. "I've always loved you, Ana. Every moment, every glance, every laugh, every fight. I've always wanted to keep you safe, always wanted to be by your side. I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you."
The room is so silent that you could hear a pin drop. Anastasia’s tough facade crumbles, her eyes wide, searching mine for any trace of deceit. But all she finds is raw, unfiltered emotion. My confession hangs in the air.
My heartbeat thunders in my ears, each beat echoing the truth of my words. Ana's eyes, previously so fiery, now look lost, the weight of my admission landing heavily on her shoulders.
"Perhaps we should give you two some privacy," Andrei suggests, his voice soft, breaking the stillness of the room. Everyone else nods in agreement, ready to make a discreet exit.
"No," I snap, the rawness of my emotions making my words sharp, "Don't bother."
Ana tries to reach out, her fingers barely grazing my arm. "Samuil—"
But I'm already moving, storming past family members, my steps heavy and determined. I can't stay here. Not now. The need to escape, to breathe, to come to terms with the vulnerability I've just displayed only drives me out faster.
Chapter 18
Anastasia
The low hum of conversation from the family room fades as I step out into the cool evening air, pulling my jacket tighter around me. The Moscow streets are a kaleidoscope of city sounds and moving shadows. The late evening light casts a golden hue on the buildings, and the distant sounds of traffic serve as a constant reminder of the city’s heartbeat.
