Chapter 3 - Anja
I pace the length of the living room like a captured feral animal that hasn’t decided whether to bite the bars or lie down and die. The penthouse feels too big, too quiet, and too perfect.
My sneakers squeak softly against the pale oak hardwood, leaving faint smudges that I don’t bother wiping away. Every step echoes off the high ceilings and the wall of glass that looks out over the glittering city, as if it’s mocking me.
The fireplace flickers with gas flames that give off no real heat, just a soft orange glow that dances across the black leather sectional and the massive marble kitchen island.
Everything here screams money and control. Expensive, yet restrained with nothing out of place. Nothing like the chaotic mess of Fadir’s apartment with its half-empty whiskey bottles and lipstick-stained glasses.
My heart is still hammering. All the events from the warehouse to how Fadir slapped me, from the stranger who dragged me out at gunpoint and drove me here without asking. It’s all too much for me to comprehend and settle in.
Alexey Sokolov.
The name sits heavy on my tongue like a curse I’m too exhausted to spit out.
He stands near the kitchen island, leaning against the marble with his arms loosely crossed, watching me with those brown eyes that don’t miss anything. He changed into a simple black t-shirt and gray sweatpants while I was in the guest room trying to stop shaking.
The casual clothes should make him look less threatening. But they don’t.
Even at a somewhat mid-thirties age, he carries himself like someone who has already seen every way the world can break a person and decided none of it surprises him anymore. His brown hair is still slightly damp from the rain earlier.
His broad shoulders, the kind of quiet stillness that makes the air feel thicker around him, send shivers throughout my body. He’s nothing like Fadir’s flashy charm. This man is all sharp edges wrapped in calm, an unsettling tranquility.
“Sit down, Anja,” he says, voice low and even, the same tone he used in the car. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor.”
I stop pacing but don’t sit. Instead, I wrap my arms tighter around my middle, fingers digging into the damp fabric of my jacket. “Explain. From the beginning. No more half-truths.”
He nods once, like he expected this.
“Fadir Klem has been trying to push into Sokolov territory for months. Drugs, smuggling routes, legitimate fronts, he thinks he can launder through. He’s not subtle about it.
When we pushed back, he made it personal.
He targeted my sister, Katya, and thought that if he could get close to her, he could weaken the family from the inside.
Use her as leverage, the same way he used you. ”
The words land like stones in still water.
Katya.
I remember Fadir mentioning her name once or twice in passing. Something about a charity event, maybe a casual connection. I thought it is business networking. But now the pieces snap together with sickening clarity.
The late nights. The locked study door. The way he smiles at me like I am his safe little secret while he is planning something uglier.
“He used me,” I whisper. My voice cracks, but I force it steady. “All of it, the job loss, my eviction, then offering me a place to stay. It wasn't ever about helping me. It's about control. About having another pawn he could move around the board.”
“Yes. You were convenient. Young, desperate, with no strong ties left in the city. He isolated you, made sure you had nowhere else to go. Then he started locking you in tighter. The threats, though, weren’t new. They are just the mask slipping.” Alexey doesn’t sugarcoat it.
I feel the floor tilt under me. I grip the back of the leather couch to stay upright.
All those soft promises, the way Fadir would pull me close after an argument and whisper that I am safe with him. It's all calculated. My charming boyfriend with the expensive watch and the easy smile is just another predator wearing a nicer suit.
The realization burns hotter than the gas flames in the fireplace. I want to scream. I want to drive back to that warehouse and smash every crate with my bare hands.
Instead, I stand here in this stranger’s perfect penthouse, shaking with a fury so pure it feels like it could light the whole city on fire.
“He targeted Katya the same way,” Alexey continues, still leaning against the island like we’re discussing the weather.
“Thought he could break the Sokolovs by breaking the women around us. He is wrong. But he’s desperate now.
Cornered animals bite hardest. And you?” I laugh, short and bitter that it tastes like ash.
“You wired the building with explosives. You stormed in like some black knight with a gun. What makes you any different from him?”
“I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. I protect what’s mine. And right now, hurting Fadir means making sure he loses everything he thought he owned, including you. So the entire city sees it.” His dark eyes meet mine without flinching.
The words hang between us. I can feel the weight of them pressing against my ribs. This isn’t a rescue. This is a new game, and I’m the piece being moved again.
I'm just a pawn in their ruthless competition to be the ruler of the city.
“Here’s the deal. Stay here for a few months.
Live in the guest suite across the hall.
In public, you pretend to be my lover. We attend events together.
Let Fadir see you on my arm, smiling, moving on.
Let him watch while his world crumbles… his suppliers turn, his accounts freeze, then his reputation turns to dust. Once he’s destroyed, you walk away.
Free. With enough money to start over anywhere you want.
Anywhere but here, if that’s what you choose.
” He straightens, pushing off the marble.
I stare at him. The clinical detachment in his voice is almost worse than anger. No heat, no manipulation, just cold strategy. Like I’m a line item in a ledger.
My blood boils at the thought of being a minion, by another man deciding how I get used or how I get discarded when the game is over. I’m not some fragile doll to be passed between powerful hands. I ran away from home to escape this kind of control.
But beneath the wrath, something sharper flickers.
Fury. A pure burning rage at Fadir for every lie, every threat, and every time he made me feel small and trapped. The same fury that kept me from crawling back home with my tail between my legs. It’s the only thing I have left that still feels like mine.
“And if I say no?” I stop gripping the couch and lift my chin.
“Then I will drive you wherever you want to go tonight. But Fadir will find you. And next time, I won’t be there to pull you out.” Alexey’s expression doesn’t change.
The truth of it sinks in slow and heavily.
I have no job, no apartment, and no savings that could last more than a week. Hell, I don't even have my car. It's still back at the warehouse.
Going back home means facing the gossip. The whispers about my father’s failures, and my “big-city dreams” that ended exactly as everyone predicted.
Crawling back defeated. I’d rather die.
“Fine. I’ll do it,” my hands curl into fists at my sides
The words taste like surrender and victory at the same time, if that’s possible.
Alexey studies me for a long moment, those brown eyes unreadable. He crosses his muscular arms over his broad chest, his feet planted firmly.
“This is business, Anja. Nothing more. You stay in the guest suite. We appear together when needed. No physical expectations. No blurred lines. You share anything you know about Fadir’s habits, his accounts, his routines.
In return, you get safety, resources, and the satisfaction of watching him burn.
When it’s over, you leave with a new start. Clean break.”
He makes it explicit, laying it out like a contract on the marble island between us. No heat in his voice, no lingering gaze that makes my skin crawl. Just facts. Boundaries drawn in clean, sharp lines.
“Business. Got it,” I nod, even as my pulse thunders in my ears
Inside, the anger coils tighter. I’m not doing this because I trust the sexier than sexy Bratva enforcer standing across from me with his calm voice and his wired buildings. I don’t trust anyone right now.
Not even myself.
I’m doing it because the thought of Fadir’s face draining of color when he sees me on Alexey’s arm sends a deep, vicious thrill through my veins. Let him watch everything he tried to trap slip away. Let him feel what it’s like to lose control.
I’ll play the part. I’ll smile for the cameras and feed Alexey every scrap of information I secretly gathered while living under Fadir’s roof. Then, when it’s over, I’ll take the money and disappear. Far from this city, far from my hometown, and far from men who think they can own me.
“You should get some sleep. The guest suite is ready. Clothes in the dresser, toiletries in the bathroom. We’ll talk more tomorrow over breakfast.” Alexey circles the island and gestures toward the hallway.
I don’t thank him. I can’t bring myself to.
Instead, I turn and walk down the hall, feeling his eyes on my back the entire way.
The guest suite door clicks shut behind me with a soft finality.
I lean against it for a long moment, breathing hard, with the weight of the night crashing down all at once.
The bed is huge, dressed in crisp white linens that smell faintly of cedar. I don’t bother changing out of my damp clothes. I just crawl under the covers and stare at the ceiling, watching the city lights paint faint patterns across the plaster.
Fadir’s charming smile flashes in my mind, then twists into the raised hand in the warehouse. The betrayal burns fresh. But underneath it, something new flickers.
Is it resolved? Cold and sharp as the blade Alexey carries but never raises.
I’ll pretend to be the dangerous man’s lover. I’ll help tear Fadir’s world apart piece by piece. When it’s done, I’ll walk away richer and freer than I’ve ever been.
My ire is the only thing keeping me warm tonight. It’s enough.
For now.