Chapter 3 - Anka
The Nikolai mansion was a fortress disguised as a home, all black stone and bulletproof glass that screamed money and menace in equal measure.
As she stood in the circular driveway watching her pathetic collection of suitcases being unloaded from the SUV, she couldn’t help but compare it to the Volkov estate.
Where their family home had been warm and inviting despite its deadly occupants, this place felt cold, unwelcoming.
Perfect for the man who now owned her.
“Mrs. Nikolai.” The voice belonged to an older woman with steel-gray hair and a face that could have been carved from granite. “I’m Elena, the housekeeper. Mr. Nikolai asked me to show you to your room.”
Her room. Not their room. The distinction wasn’t lost on her, and she wasn’t sure if she should feel relieved or insulted. Probably both.
She followed Elena through marble hallways lined with expensive art and family portraits, her heels echoing off the walls like gunshots. The house was massive, easily twice the size of what she’d grown up in, with enough rooms to house a small army. Which, knowing Viktor, it probably did.
“This will be your suite,” Elena said, opening double doors to reveal a room that was bigger than her entire apartment had been before this nightmare began.
The space was decorated in shades of cream and gold, feminine without being frilly, expensive without being ostentatious.
A king-sized bed dominated one wall, while floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of the extensive grounds.
It was beautiful, she had to admit. It was also clearly chosen to keep her as far away from Viktor as possible.
“Mr. Nikolai’s suite is in the east wing,” Elena continued, confirming her suspicions. “He asked me to inform you that he’ll be traveling on business for the next week.”
Of course he would be. The bastard had married her and then immediately fucked off, leaving her alone in his fortress like some kind of prisoner. Although that might have been for the best. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face him again after their tense conversation at the reception.
“Thank you,” she managed, proud that her voice came out steady.
Elena nodded and left her alone with her thoughts and her suitcases. She spent the next hour unpacking, hanging her clothes in a walk-in closet that was larger than most people’s bedrooms, and arranging her few personal belongings on surfaces that probably cost more than most people’s cars.
The next few days passed in a blur of exploration and growing frustration.
She mapped out every room, every hallway, every possible exit in the mansion.
Old habits died hard, and despite being married to Viktor instead of actively working for the family business, her training kicked in automatically.
The house was a maze of interconnected wings, secret passages, and hidden rooms that spoke of generations of Nikolai paranoia. There was a panic room disguised as a wine cellar, a weapons cache hidden behind false walls, and enough surveillance equipment to make the FBI jealous.
But it was the grounds that really impressed her.
Twenty acres of manicured lawns, gardens, and woodland, all surrounded by a twelve-foot stone wall topped with razor wire.
Guard towers were positioned at strategic intervals, and she counted at least a dozen security cameras in her first sweep of the perimeter.
Viktor wasn’t taking any chances with his new bride’s safety. Or maybe he just wanted to make sure she couldn’t escape.
By the fourth day, she was going stir-crazy. She’d read every book in the extensive library, explored every room she could access, and even helped Elena with meal preparation just to have something to do. The freedom she’d craved for so long was turning into its own kind of prison.
That’s when the familiar itch started. The restlessness that had once driven her to sneak out of the Volkov compound, the need for adventure that had led her to Viktor in the first place.
She was twenty-four years old, married to a man who was clearly planning to ignore her into submission, and surrounded by more freedom than she’d had in years.
Her brothers weren’t here to monitor her every move. There were no family obligations or social events she was required to attend. For the first time since Adrian had destroyed her relationship with Viktor, she was truly on her own.
The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating.
She started small, testing the boundaries of her new existence.
She took long walks around the grounds, always accompanied by at least two guards but otherwise left to her own devices.
She struck up conversations with the household staff, learning their names and histories, building the kind of rapport that might prove useful later.
And slowly, carefully, she began to study the security setup.
Two dozen guards were working in rotating shifts, a mix of seasoned veterans and younger men eager to prove themselves.
The surveillance system was state-of-the-art, but not impossible to circumvent if one knew what they were doing.
The gate system, while sophisticated, had to include manual overrides for emergencies.
The weak link in any security system was always the human element, and it didn’t take long for her to identify her target.
Simon Petrov was twenty-two years old, fresh out of some military program, and clearly smitten with his boss’s new wife. He was assigned to the afternoon shift, which meant he was one of the guards who accompanied her on her walks around the grounds.
He was sweet in the way young soldiers often were, all earnest dedication and barely contained energy. He answered her questions about the security protocols with more detail than he should have, clearly trying to impress her with his knowledge and access.
Perfect.
She started paying special attention to Simon during their interactions, complimenting his uniform, asking about his background, and treating him as if he were the most interesting man she’d ever met.
It wasn’t entirely an act—he was handsome in a clean-cut, all-American way, with sandy hair and green eyes that reminded her of her youngest brother.
But he was also her ticket to freedom.
“The motion sensors along the north wall are the most sensitive,” he was explaining as they walked through the garden on Friday afternoon. “But there’s a blind spot near the old oak tree where the branches interfere with the signal.”
She filed that information away, smiling at him like he’d just told her the most fascinating thing in the world. “You really know your job, don’t you?”
He flushed red to the tips of his ears. “Mr. Nikolai demands perfection from his security team. We can’t afford any mistakes.”
“I’m sure you’re one of his best men,” she said, letting her fingers brush his arm as they walked. The contact was brief, innocent enough to be explained away, but she saw the way his pupils dilated at the touch.
“I try my best, ma’am.”
“Please, call me Anka.” She gave him her most dazzling smile. “We’re practically neighbors now, aren’t we?”
They’d reached the gatehouse, and she could see the control panel through the window. A complex array of switches and monitors that controlled access to the compound. She was trying to figure out how to get a closer look when Simon started explaining the system unprompted.
“The main gate operates on a dual-key system,” he said, clearly showing off now. “Two guards have to authorize any opening, and there’s a manual override in case of system failure.”
“That sounds very secure,” she murmured, stepping closer to him. Close enough that he could smell her perfume, close enough that her breast brushed against his arm as she pretended to stumble slightly on the uneven path.
He steadied her with his hands, his touch lingering longer than strictly necessary. “Are you alright, Mrs... I mean, Anka?”
“I’m fine. Just a little dizzy.” She pressed her hand to his chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath his uniform shirt. “You’re very strong.”
“I work out,” he said stupidly, his gaze dropping to her lips.
This was almost too easy. A few more conversations like this, maybe a carefully orchestrated moment alone, and she’d have everything she needed to slip out of this gilded cage whenever she wanted.
“Simon.” The voice cut through the air like a blade, cold and sharp and absolutely fucking furious.
They sprang apart like guilty teenagers, and she turned to see Viktor striding toward them across the lawn. He was dressed in a black suit that emphasized his lean frame, his ice-blue eyes locked on the space between Simon and her with an expression that could have melted steel.
He wasn’t supposed to be back yet. Elena had said he’d be gone all week, but there he was, looking like he wanted to commit murder.
“Mr. Nikolai,” Simon stammered, snapping to attention. “I was just escorting your wife around the grounds as ordered.”
“I can see that.” Viktor’s voice was deadly quiet as he approached. “Tell me, Simon, does escorting my wife typically involve putting your hands on her?”
Simon’s face went white. “Sir, she stumbled, I was just—”
“You were just forgetting your place.” Viktor stepped between them, his back to her, his attention focused entirely on the younger man.
“My wife is not your concern beyond ensuring her safety. She is not your friend, she is not your confidante, and she sure as fuck isn’t someone you should be touching. ”
The threat in his voice was unmistakable, and she saw Simon swallow hard.
“Yes, sir. It won’t happen again.”
“No,” Viktor said softly. “It won’t. Because if I ever see you laying so much as a finger on what belongs to me again, I’ll cut them off. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now get back to your post.”
Simon practically ran back toward the house, leaving her alone with her furious husband. Viktor turned to face her, and the look in his eyes made her stomach clench with something that was part fear, part anger, and part unwilling arousal.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.
She lifted her chin, refusing to be intimidated. “I was making conversation. Is that against the rules now?”
“Making conversation?” He stepped closer, invading her personal space in a way that made her pulse race. “Is that what you call batting your eyelashes at my employee while pressed up against him like a bitch in heat?”
The crude words hit like a slap, and she felt her temper flare. “Fuck you, Viktor. I was being friendly.”
“Friendly.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Right. The same kind of friendly you were with me four years ago?”
That was a low blow, and they both knew it. “This has nothing to do with what happened between us.”
“Doesn’t it?” He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly like your old pattern. Find a man, charm him, get what you want from him, then disappear when you’re done.”
She jerked away from his touch, fury coursing through her veins. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I? Then explain to me what you were really doing with Simon. And don’t insult my intelligence by pretending it was innocent.”
She could lie. Should lie. But the accusation in his voice, the assumption that she was automatically up to something manipulative, made her want to hurt him the way his words had hurt her.
“Maybe I was flirting with him,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “Maybe I was enjoying the attention of a man who actually wants to be around me, instead of one who married me for revenge and then immediately fucked off for a week.”
His eyes flashed with something dangerous. “Careful, wife.”
“Or what? You’ll punish me? Lock me in my room?
Send me back to my brothers?” She stepped closer to him, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze.
“News flash, Viktor—I’m already paying for my sins.
I’m already trapped in this nightmare marriage with a man who hates me. What more can you possibly do to me?”
For a moment, they stood there glaring at each other, both breathing hard, the air between them crackling with tension and barely leashed violence. She could see the pulse beating in his throat, could smell his cologne mixing with something darker, more primitive.
Then he smiled, and it was the most terrifying thing she’d ever seen.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, his voice like silk over steel. “You have no idea what I’m capable of. But keep pushing me, and you’ll find out.”
He turned and walked away, leaving her standing alone in the garden with her heart pounding and her hands shaking with rage.