Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Anna
I came to Ivan's place anyway.
I'd promised Nadia I wouldn't abandon her—that promise pulled me like an invisible thread across half the city, through those unnaturally quiet Upper East Side streets, right back to his door.
Before I could ring the bell, the door swung open. Someone had been waiting by the window.
Nadia was thrilled to see me. She dragged me to the desk and pointed at the tiny sunflower sprout pushing up from the soil—she and Ivan had planted it together, and when it bloomed, she wanted to give it to me. Her eyes sparkled like glass marbles dropped in clear water.
I crouched down and touched Nadia's soft hair. "Well, thank you."
Nadia grinned and dug her homework out of her backpack, spreading it across the desk.
I settled into the small chair beside her and flipped open her workbook, but my gaze kept drifting to that sunflower—the tiny shoot breaking through the dirt, two tender green leaves still dotted with damp soil. Sunlight streamed through the window, catching the droplets and making them glitter.
Ivan saw through every one of my careful pretenses. He didn't call me out, didn't push, just stood where I could see him, watching my pathetic little charade. He never said a word, but just standing there made me feel like an open book, every page read cover to cover.
What was I supposed to do? Should I move? Disappear from his life all over again?
But I knew it wouldn't be easy. Moving away from here, switching schools for Alex, finding a new place, a new job, rebuilding everything—just thinking about the paperwork and forms made me exhausted.
Outside, warm sunlight fell on the tender green sprout, casting small, wavering shadows on the desk. I was staring at Nadia's open homework when the doorbell shattered the quiet.
"Anna, I'll get it." Nadia dropped her pencil and skipped toward the foyer.
I stayed put—didn't think much of it. At Ivan's place, visitors were usually business associates. The housekeeper would handle it.
But seconds later, I heard the housekeeper's uncomfortable voice from the doorway. "Sir isn't home. Perhaps you could—"
"Ivan's not here? So I can't come in and wait? I'm the mother of his child!"
That voice was shrill and familiar, like nails scraping glass. My brow furrowed instinctively.
I looked up. Past the shoe cabinet, I saw the woman standing in the doorway.
She wore a designer dress I'd seen in magazines years ago, but now it was faded, the neckline pilling, her hair no longer sleek and glossy but dull and split at the ends.
Her once-perfect face showed faint bags and fine lines.
Victoria. Ivan's ex-wife.
And Victoria noticed me too.
She froze. The look she gave me was easy to read—
Jealousy.
Raw, naked jealousy, barely concealed, spilling from those pretty eyes.
"Anna?" Her voice shot up, disbelieving. "What are you doing here?"
So Ivan hadn't lied. They really hadn't gotten back together.
Otherwise, the woman who'd once shone so brightly in Las Vegas wouldn't have fallen this far.
Nadia glanced at me nervously.
"Mom..."
The word came out soft, but when she said it, her shoulders curled inward like a frightened animal.
My chest tightened. I moved closer to Nadia without thinking, putting myself between them.
I knew exactly what Victoria had done. I knew how much she truly cared about this daughter. I wasn't letting Nadia face her alone.
Nadia's forehead pressed lightly against my back. Through the thin fabric, I felt her trembling.
"Thank you," she whispered, so quiet only I could hear.
Victoria's face flushed crimson. She pointed at me and shrieked.
"Anna, get away from my daughter!" Her voice tore out of her throat, sharp and hysterical, pushed to its absolute limit. "Someone like you, a filthy poor girl—you're nothing but a walking source of germs!"
I didn't speak. Just shifted slightly, shielding Nadia more completely.
Her forehead pressed into my lower back, her small fingers clutching my skirt, knuckles white. The fabric bunched in her grip like she was drowning and I was the last thing keeping her afloat.
She was terrified. Genuinely, deeply terrified.
I looked down, felt her rapid, shallow breaths against my spine.
A thought surfaced—what kind of mother makes her eight-year-old daughter this afraid of her?
The tightness in my chest sank down into my stomach, then burned its way back up.
I raised my head and looked at Victoria. "Shut your mouth! Can't you see Nadia's scared?"
Victoria clearly hadn't expected me to talk back.
She froze for a beat, her expression locked in place, then the mask cracked.
Her face twisted. She trembled with rage, heels clicking as she lunged forward, nails nearly clawing my arm. "She's MY daughter! What are you, that you think you can interfere with us?"
The housekeeper stood to the side, wringing her hands, wanting to intervene.
I shook my head at her, then turned back to Victoria. Didn't move an inch.
"Nadia's custody belongs to Ivan. He's taking excellent care of her. If you want to see your daughter, you do it when Ivan's here, or with Nadia's permission."
Victoria laughed sharply, her mouth twisting in undisguised mockery. "Custody? Ivan's too soft. Does he really think just anyone can be the lady of this house?"
She looked at me sideways, contempt dripping from her gaze like I was garbage. "Anna, don't think I don't know what you are. You're nothing but trash Ivan bought at an auction for six hundred grand. A whore. You're not even worth our housekeeper, and you dare try to steal what's mine?"
Whore.
My chest felt like someone had driven a thin, sharp nail through it, piercing flesh and lodging itself in the softest space between my ribs.
I didn't say anything. But I felt the muscles in my lower back tighten like a drawn bow.
I'd heard these dirty words before. But coming from Victoria's mouth, they were poisoned ice picks, chilling me from the inside out.
I'd thought time would bury my past, let those shameful days rot unseen. But now she'd ripped them open again, and all that carefully suppressed shame and humiliation crawled up through my veins, choking my chest.
I took a deep breath, nails digging into my palms, trying to hold myself together.
Victoria watched me struggling, the satisfaction in her eyes burning brighter like a lit fuse.
"Don't think I don't know," she said, stepping closer, "you're using the kid to hold onto Ivan. Dream on. You're just a toy—when Ivan's done with you, you'll crawl right back to your filthy slum!"
I turned and pressed Nadia's face into my side, covering her soft hair with my palm, keeping her from seeing Victoria's twisted expression. Those filthy words shouldn't reach an eight-year-old's ears.
"You're lying! Anna's not like that!"
Nadia broke free and shouted at Victoria.
Victoria's face contorted further. She swung her hand at Nadia. Instinct took over—I stepped between them. The slap landed on my shoulder, so hard my shoulder went numb, pain exploding under the skin.
"Look! Look what you've done!" Victoria's voice was sharp enough to slice the air. "You've corrupted my daughter!"
I bit down hard, didn't move an inch, stared into her eyes. "Touch her again, and I'll have security throw you out right now. And I'll call Ivan immediately."
Victoria froze mid-motion. She clearly hadn't expected me to push back with such defiance.
Her eyes were still bloodshot, the anger burning in them far from gone, but my words stopped her advance like an invisible wall suddenly rising between us.
She collided with it, her body leaning forward for a moment, yet she never came at me again.
Her jaw clenched, relaxed, then clenched again.
She glared at me. "Then let go! I won't leave my daughter with someone like you. God knows what trash you'll teach her."
She reached out with her manicured hand and grabbed my arm. Her nails dug through the thin fabric into my flesh, sharp enough to numb my entire arm.
I gritted my teeth through the pain, protecting Nadia.
Victoria screamed. "Nadia, come here! Come to Mommy. We're leaving."
Nadia shook harder at her words.
"I won't go. I want to stay with Anna..."
Nadia's rejection was gasoline on the fire. Victoria's chest heaved, her red-painted nails digging tighter, her eyes threaded with fine red lines, the whites nearly swallowed by crimson.
"Fine... just fine!" She rushed forward, reaching for Nadia's arm. "Nadia, wake up! I'm your mother! Everything I've done is for your own good! That woman is not a good person at all. She's only after your father's money!"
My eyes widened. I moved to block her.
A child's skin is far more delicate than an adult's. I couldn't let her hurt Nadia. I caught Victoria's wrist and twisted it aside, just enough pressure.
She gasped and shrieked louder, drawing the servants from the kitchen.
I looked straight into Victoria's unhinged face—the deep lines at her eyes, her smudged lipstick. "Victoria, look at yourself. You look pathetic."
Victoria stared at me, shocked.
She probably couldn't understand how I—who'd always been so passive—dared to fight back.
But she didn't know.
Over the years, I raised Alex alone and built a life for myself in this city. When I sat in the emergency room hallway in the middle of the night, holding my feverish child in my arms, there was no one there to shield me from anything.
I learned to stand my ground and negotiate when my landlord raised the rent.
I learned to stand at the supermarket checkout and cross the most expensive items off my shopping list one by one.
The hardships of raising a child wore away the little fearfulness I had left inside me, and taught me how to fight back.
Victoria was too choked up to respond. Her face flushed darker, and she raised her other hand, swinging at my face.
I closed my eyes instinctively, bracing for the blow.
It never came.
I heard a pained cry.
I opened my eyes. Ivan stood in the doorway. He wore the same shirt from this morning, sleeves rolled to his forearms, top button undone.
He must've rushed back. His chest rose and fell slightly.
His tall frame was like a mountain, planted firmly between Victoria and me. Stormy gray-blue eyes churned with fury, his entire presence radiating cold, cutting menace.
But in that moment, looking at his back shielding me, he seemed more like an angel than ever before.