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As I hang up, I share a look with Viktor. The resolve in his eyes matches mine. "We're not letting them get away with this, Ana."
I clench my fists, thinking of Samuil, alone and in danger. "They've picked a fight with the wrong family. They have no idea the storm they've just invited upon themselves."
The gym is both my sanctuary and my battlefield. A place where I've always found solace in sweat and the sting of leather on my skin. But now every punch feels like it’s missing something, and every kick feels like it's aimed at a ghost. The bag sways with the fury of my hits, but it can't absorb the ache in my heart.
The metallic taste of anguish mixes with sweat on my lips as the echo of leather on leather fills the room. My mind drifts back to Samuil, to the rough texture of his hands and the softness in his eyes. I recall his confession, the raw honesty in his voice when he told me he loved me. I’d pushed him away then, not willing to admit the depth of my own feelings. But in the silence of the gym, away from prying eyes, I come face-to-face with the truth.
My heart aches knowing that deep down, I've always been in love with Samuil. The thought that I may never get to tell him, that he might never hear those words from my lips, fuels the fire inside me.
A sob catches in my throat, and for a moment, I let the dam break, allowing a few tears to spill. But only a few. Grief can't help Samuil now, only action can. I draw in a shaky breath, wiping the tears and sweat from my face with the back of my glove.
I remember the times Samuil stood by me, bolstering me, his strength unwavering. Those memories steel my resolve. I won't let those moments become mere memories. The fire that has always driven me in the ring, the flame that made me fight tooth and nail for every victory, now blazes even brighter. I'm fighting for something much more precious than just a title or respect. This time, I'm fighting for love.
The clock on the wall tells me it's time to leave, time to join the others and decide our next move. But before I go, I send one last powerful kick to the bag, letting out a roar of ferocity. It swings wildly on its chain, absorbing my violent impact.
Taking a deep breath, I grab my things and head to the door. A new purpose burns within me.
Chapter 21
Anastasia
Perched high above the Moscow skyline, the Bratva’s HQ radiates power. Its floor-to-ceiling windows offer an almost panoramic view of the glittering city below. The penthouse, a stark contrast to the bustling streets, is all sleek lines and modern furniture, with muted tones and shining surfaces. Everything about it screams wealth and influence. It’s designed to impress, and it never fails in its mission. But today, the luxurious décor fades into the background, overshadowed by what’s at stake.
Soft chandeliers bathe the room in a muted glow, casting elongated shadows on the walls. I stand at the head of the long, glass-topped conference table, Andrei at my side. The room is filled with the most influential members of the Bratva—people I’ve grown up around, their faces familiar yet daunting. Viktor is with me and damn, his presence is a comfort I can’t even begin to articulate.
I again explain the situation, keeping my voice steady, the gravity of it evident in each word. "Radu and his men have Samuil. They've made it clear that they will kill him if I don't participate in the Death Match."
Damien, always trying to prove himself, stands up, his voice surprisingly firm. “We need to show the Romanians that they can’t play us. I’m ready to take a stand.”
Roman nods in agreement. "Damien's right. We can’t let Radu and his men dictate our fate. And we certainly aren't going to let one of our own remain in enemy hands."
Beside Roman, Valentina adds her thoughts. Her voice is calm, yet chilling. "In my time, we didn't let enemies get close. We dealt with them silently, discreetly. There are ways to handle such situations without brute force."
Roman looks over to me, his gaze piercing, yet somehow comforting. " Whatever it takes, we will get Samuil back."
The room fills with a renewed energy. One by one, members stand, showing their solidarity. It’s a sight to behold, the Bratva, united in purpose, ready to take on the mission of saving one of their own.
The room goes silent, all eyes trained on Andrei as he stands up. Being the eldest brother and the leader, there's an aura of authority that naturally surrounds him. Andrei’s decisions carry weight. His voice, calm and measured, resonates in the vastness of the room.
"Ana," he begins, locking eyes with me, "You'll proceed to the fight. We need them to think they still have the upper hand. Keep your focus; we're here to back you up."
I nod, tightening my fists. "I'm ready," I reply, determination lacing every word.
Andrei turns his attention to Viktor, who's sitting next to me. "Vik, you'll be in her corner, acting as her coach. It’s a believable move since you were initially the one supposed to be fighting in the Death Match. Stay close, watch her back."
Viktor nods, his expression stony. "Understood."
Leo and Roman are Andrei’s next picks. "Both of you will act as our backup on the floor. The moment things seem to spiralout of control, or if it becomes evident that they're cheating, you break up the fight, understand? Create a scene if you have to."
Leo grins, cracking his knuckles, while Roman, always the strategist, simply nods in agreement.
"We need to locate Samuil,” Andrei states. “I trust that you'll trace that call. Pinpoint his exact location. We don't have much time."
Damien steps forward, eager to prove his loyalty. "And me?"
Andrei gazes at him, weighing his options, "You'll be with me. Once we have Samuil’s location, we'll head there to extract him. They won't expect you, which can work to our advantage."
Damien's chest swells with pride. "I won't let you down."
