Mafia King’s Bride

35. Ana

THIRTY-FIVE

ANA

The sharp knock on the door nearly gives me a heart attack. I drop the spoon I’m holding, and it clatters to the floor like a mini cymbal crash.

Real smooth, Ana.

Who could that be? I’ve been holed up in this suburban Dmitri protection program for two weeks now, where the neighbors are about as social as hermit crabs. The only visitor I’ve had was dear old Dad, and I made it crystal clear he wasn’t welcome for a repeat performance.

“Maybe it’s just a really persistent Girl Scout?” I mutter, trying to calm my racing heart. But let’s be real, I’m on edge because I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Dmitri to show up and demand answers I’m not sure I’m ready to give.

The knocking gets louder, more insistent. Guess Girl Scouts are really upping their cookie game. I creep to the door, feeling like I’m in some low-budget horror movie. Peering through the peephole, I gasp.

“Ana?” Viktor’s voice carries through the door, strong and reassuring. “I know you’re in there. Please open up. We need to talk.”

I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. This wasn’t part of the plan.

“Anastasia?” he tries again, and this time I can hear the concern in his voice. “It’s Viktor. I need to see you. Please.”

Guilt sucker-punches me in the gut. How can I ignore him? I left without saying goodbye, and here he is, probably worried sick.

Taking a deep breath, I open the door. Viktor’s there, looking like he’s seen a ghost. Which, considering how I probably look right now, isn’t far off.

“You’re here,” he breathes, relief washing over his face. Before I can say anything, he pulls me into a bear hug.

It’s almost too much—the human contact, the familiar smell of his cologne, the safety I feel in my big brother’s arms. The dam breaks, and suddenly, I’m sobbing like a baby, all over his probably very expensive shirt.

Viktor, bless him, doesn’t say a word. He just guides me to the couch, holding me tight as years of pent-up emotion come pouring out. I cling to him like he’s a life raft in this stormy sea I’ve found myself in.

When I finally calm down enough to form coherent sentences, Viktor asks the million-dollar question, “Why did you leave?”

I sigh, suddenly feeling very small. “I’m sure you know.”

But Viktor, ever the lawyer, isn’t letting me off that easy. His frown is a mix of concern and determination. “I only know what he told me. I want to hear it from you, Ana. Why’d you disappear without a word? Do you have any idea what it’s been like? Dmitri’s gone off the deep end, starting wars with other Bratva groups. He’s a man possessed.”

My heart sinks. I knew there’d be fallout, but this? “Viktor, I?—”

“Tell me everything,” he says, his voice gentle but firm. It’s the same tone he used when we were kids, and he was helping me through a problem. It makes me feel safe, like maybe everything isn’t completely ruined.

So, I spill. I tell him about Papa’s threats, the impossible choice I was faced with. Viktor listens, his jaw clenching tighter with every word.

“You should have let him start that war,” he says, anger flashing in his eyes. Not at me, but at our father. “You can’t keep offering yourself up as a sacrifice, Ana.”

“I couldn’t,” I choke out. “I couldn’t live with myself if either of them got hurt because of me.”

Viktor’s expression softens, and he pulls me close again. “Oh, Ana. You’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know. It’s not your fault our father decided to use you like this.”

As he holds me, I can’t help but think how lucky I am to have him. Viktor’s always been my rock, my protector. Even now, when I’ve messed everything up, he’s here, strong and steady.

“How did you find me?” I ask, my voice still shaky.

Viktor’s eyes darken, and I can see the barely contained rage as he recounts his confrontation with our father. “I went to his office, ready to tear him a new one. I couldn’t believe he could be so callous about his own daughter.”

He paces as he talks, all coiled energy and righteous anger. “He tried lying at first, but I saw right through him. It didn’t take long before he cracked and told me where you were.”

I nod, fresh tears threatening to spill. “Do you think Dmitri knows?”

Viktor pauses, considering. “Hard to say. Nikolai’s probably still playing the concerned father act. But Dmitri’s no fool. He might be biding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike.”

As I watch my brother, so strong and protective, I’m hit with a wave of gratitude. No matter how messed up things are, at least I have Viktor in my corner. And for the first time in weeks, I feel a tiny flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, we can figure this out together.

I can’t help but notice how Viktor now refers to our father only as “Nikolai,” his voice as cold as a Siberian winter. It’s like he’s mentally disowned the man. I wonder if their relationship is as irreparably broken as mine is with dear old Papa.

“You have to come back,” Viktor insists, his eyes a mix of determination and concern.

“I can’t,” I sob, shaking my head. “Papa swore he’d kill Dmitri if I went back!”

Viktor snorts, looking at me like I’ve just told him the earth is flat. “Come on, Ana. You really think that man has any power over Dmitri? Your husband would end him without breaking a sweat.”

I clutch at Viktor’s arm, desperation making my voice shrill. “But what about you? Papa thinks you’re still on his side. Dmitri will think you’ve betrayed him too!”

Gently, he pries my fingers loose, his gaze steady and reassuring. “Not if I tell him everything. Dmitri’s not unreasonable. He’ll understand once he knows the truth.”

Viktor’s face darkens as he continues, “Nikolai blames everyone but himself. I’ve never seen him like that before. He’s...he’s not the man we thought he was, Ana. When he realized I could expose him, he actually tried to threaten me.”

I sit back, feeling like I’ve been sucker-punched. I thought I couldn’t hate our father more than I already did, but apparently, I was wrong. God, I wish I’d never tried to save him in the first place.

“Please, don’t tell Dmitri,” I beg, my voice barely above a whisper. “Even if he kills Papa, the Bratva will retaliate. It’ll be a bloodbath. Let me try to fix this mess.”

Viktor runs his fingers through his hair, a gesture so familiar it makes my heart ache. “It’s killing me, but...okay. I’ll keep quiet for now. But Ana, Dmitri’s tearing the city apart looking for you.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, relief and guilt warring inside me.

He sits beside me again, and I lean my head on his shoulder, suddenly exhausted. As I sigh deeply, my hand unconsciously brushes over my stomach. Oh, Dmitri, if only you knew…

I must have dozed off because the next thing I know, Viktor’s gently shaking me awake. The sun’s setting, painting the room in shades of orange and pink. He’s draped a blanket over me, and for a moment, I feel like a kid again, safe under my big brother’s protection.

“I should go,” he says softly, and I nod, not trusting my voice.

We walk to the door in silence. I’m blinking back tears, determined not to break down again. Not yet.

Viktor pauses in the doorway, his eyes searching mine. “See you later, sis,” he says, squeezing my arm gently. I manage a nod, and then he’s gone.

The moment the door clicks shut, it’s like a dam bursts. My legs give out, and I crumple to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. All the pain, the fear, the loss—it all comes pouring out in great, heaving waves.

By the time the tears finally stop, night has fallen. I drag myself to bed, curling up into a tight ball, willing sleep to come and take me away from all of this.

As I drift off, my last coherent thought is of Dmitri. I hope wherever he is, whatever he’s doing, he’s okay.