Chapter 16 - Viktor #2
The original plan had been about justice, about making her pay for the devastation she’d caused when she’d disappeared from his life.
But looking at her now—radiant with happiness, trusting him enough to share something precious instead of hiding it—the desire for revenge felt like wearing clothes that no longer fit.
“You okay?” Anka asked, leaning closer so he could hear her over the engine noise. “You look like you’re having second thoughts.”
“No second thoughts,” Viktor assured her, which was both true and a complete lie. “Just trying to figure out how someone as smart as you convinced herself that jumping out of perfectly functional aircraft was a good idea.”
Her laugh was bright and unguarded, the sound he’d been missing without realizing how much its absence had cost him. “Wait until you’re in free fall. Then you’ll understand.”
She was right. The moment Viktor stepped out of the aircraft—following Anka’s lead because she’d insisted on jumping first to guide him through his inaugural experience—everything else ceased to exist. The rush of wind, the ground approaching with terrifying speed, the absolute freedom of falling through empty sky with nothing but faith in equipment and training to prevent catastrophe.
But more than the adrenaline, more than the physical thrill, was watching Anka in her element.
She moved through the air like she’d been born to fly, grace and power combined in ways that took his breath away.
This was what she looked like when she was truly free, and seeing it made Viktor understand why her family’s protective restrictions had been slowly killing her.
The landing was less graceful—Viktor managed to avoid breaking anything important, but his technique definitely needed work. Anka touched down nearby with the kind of precision that came from years of practice, her face glowing with post-jump euphoria that made her absolutely stunning.
“So?” she asked, bouncing on her toes as she began gathering her parachute. “Verdict?”
“Terrifying,” Viktor admitted, accepting her help with equipment he was still learning to manage. “Exhilarating. Completely insane. I can see why you love it.”
The smile she gave him was worth every moment of terror he’d experienced during the jump. This was Anka at her most genuine, her most alive, and Viktor found himself memorizing every detail of her expression.
On the drive home, the easy camaraderie continued.
Anka chattered about technique and weather conditions and the other jumpers they’d met, more animated than she’d been since their wedding.
The careful distance that had characterized their interactions for weeks had evaporated, replaced by the kind of natural intimacy that had originally drawn them together.
It should have felt like victory. This was what he’d wanted—to break through her walls, to matter to her again, to be important enough that his actions could affect her emotional state. But instead of satisfaction, Viktor felt something uncomfortably close to guilt.
When had his desire for revenge transformed into something that looked disturbingly like genuine care? When had making her happy become more important than making her pay?
The questions circled through his mind as they pulled into the mansion’s driveway, unwelcome and persistent.
Anka was still glowing with post-jump satisfaction, her barriers down in ways he hadn’t seen since before their marriage.
She looked young and free and absolutely beautiful, and Viktor found himself remembering all the reasons he’d fallen in love with her the first time.
Which was exactly the problem.
“Thank you,” Anka said as they walked toward the house, her voice soft with genuine gratitude. “For today, for learning something you didn’t have to learn, for... seeing me.”
She stopped walking and turned to face him fully, her hazel eyes bright with emotions he didn’t want to identify. They were standing close enough that he could see the windblown roses in her cheeks, could count the freckles the sun had brought out across her nose.
“Viktor,” she began, stepping closer with the kind of unconscious trust that made his chest ache.
This was the moment. She was open, grateful, her defenses completely down.
If he kissed her now, if he let the electricity between them complete its circuit, she’d be lost. He could rebuild their connection, make her dependent on him emotionally as well as legally, then systematically destroy it all when the revenge felt complete.
It would be perfect, devastating, exactly what she deserved for disappearing from his life without explanation all those years ago.
But as Anka moved closer, as her face tilted up toward his with the kind of invitation he’d been craving for weeks, Viktor found himself stepping back instead of forward.
“We should get inside,” he said, his voice rougher than he’d intended. “You’ll catch a cold.”
Confusion flickered across Anka’s features, followed by something that looked like hurt. The openness that had characterized her expression all day shuttered closed, her walls rebuilding themselves with practiced efficiency.
“Of course,” she said, her tone returning to the careful neutrality that had been driving him insane for weeks. “You’re right. Thank you again for today.”
She was moving toward the house before he could respond, her posture straight and composed despite what had to be crushing disappointment. Viktor stood in the driveway longer than necessary, watching her retreat and trying to convince himself he’d made the right choice.
The plan was still the plan. His anger was still there, buried beneath layers of complicated emotions, but fundamentally unchanged.
Anka had played with his heart once before, had chosen her family’s approval over their relationship, had disappeared without giving him the chance to fight for what they’d had.
None of today’s joy changed those facts. None of her genuine gratitude or infectious happiness erased the months of devastation he’d endured after she’d vanished from his life.
But as Viktor finally followed her into the house, as he listened to her footsteps fade up the staircase, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just made a terrible mistake.
Not because stepping back had been wrong, but because for the first time in four years, revenge had felt less important than something else entirely.
And he had absolutely no idea what to do with that realization.