Bought by the Ruthless Pakhan

Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Anna

The moment Ivan's figure blocked my view, something jolted hard in my chest. My eyes started burning.

He stood tall, shoulders tight, right hand locked around Victoria's wrist.

I suddenly remembered that day outside The Ember Room—he'd done the same thing then, stopped Gary's violence.

This scene felt like déjà vu, even the angle nearly identical.

Turned out I'd never really forgotten. I'd just buried those images so deep, I convinced myself I'd moved on.

But the second he appeared again, the second he stood in front of me like this, it all came flooding back.

I'd spent years trying so hard to cut him out of my life, pretending I'd started fresh—but the truth was, I never let him go.

That admission felt like betraying myself.

All that love and longing I'd shoved down deep—it was like someone took a dull blade and split the seal. Everything came pouring out, filling my chest, clogging my throat, bitter and burning. My stomach clenched tight.

Anna, wake up.

No matter how good he is to you, he never truly trusted you.

Remember the humiliation you suffered. Remember how he and Victoria discussed you behind your back with that condescending tone. Remember how he treated you like an object to be disposed of at will—do you really want him calling you a whore again? Or going back to that pretty cage?

No. I didn't want that.

I didn't want to return to those days.

Ivan bought me with money, but I belonged to myself. I wasn't a thing, not some object for anyone to fight over and control. That self-denying existence—I'd had enough. I would never go back to that life.

"You dare touch her?"

Ivan's icy voice cut past my ear like a thin, sharp blade.

My back stiffened. My hand loosened slightly on Nadia's shoulder as I looked up into his bloodshot eyes.

The fury in those eyes was nearly tangible, dropping the temperature several degrees.

Victoria flinched at his voice.

But she wouldn't back down. If anything, she got more aggressive. "Ivan, I don't like her. Replace her. She'll be a bad influence on Nadia! I'm Nadia's mother, I have the right—"

"What right do you have?"

Ivan let out a cold laugh—short, like it scraped through his teeth. His grip tightened. I clearly saw Victoria's whole face crumple in pain as she sucked in a sharp breath.

"Victoria, seems you've forgotten what I told you five years ago."

Victoria's face went from red to white.

Her jaw clenched tight, chest heaving several times before she forced out a sentence. "I didn't do anything wrong. I'm just afraid you'll make a mistake, afraid you'll neglect your daughter."

Ivan ignored her excuses, his hand not loosening an inch. "Stop using Nadia to cover for yourself. Do you genuinely care about our daughter, or are you afraid Anna threatens your position?"

Victoria laughed bitterly. "Me, afraid of her? Some whore for you to play with in bed!"

Whore—like an ice pellet hitting my face. A familiar chill shot up my spine. Like someone jabbed my backbone, sharp and agonizing.

But before that pain could spread, I saw Ivan's arm swing out. Victoria staggered back several steps, nearly falling.

Her hair was a mess. Gone was that overbearing arrogance.

She clutched her reddened wrist, looked up at Ivan, moisture gathering in her eyes. "Ivan, you'd really lay hands on me for this woman? I'm telling you, you'll regret this!"

Her venomous gaze swept over me, then landed on Nadia.

"Nadia, Mommy loves you," her voice suddenly softened with deliberate grievance. "I'm just afraid someone will wreck our family. You have to believe Mommy—this woman doesn't deserve to be by your father's side."

She lunged forward again. I held Nadia tighter, looked up, and met her crazed eyes.

"Nadia doesn't want to go with you. Stop forcing her."

Nadia said firmly, "That's not true! Anna isn't wrecking our family—she's here to make it whole!"

Victoria's face went bloodless, tears falling harder. She pointed at the three of us, unable to form a complete sentence.

Finally, she stamped her foot and stormed out.

The room finally fell silent. The wall sconces still cast warm yellow light across the carpet, softening the trampled edges of the rug.

Ivan walked over to us. He lifted his hand, brushing away the loose strands of hair at my cheek.

"It's over." His voice was low. "She won't come back."

I snapped out of that chaos, heart pounding hard, thumping against my ribs until they ached.

I looked down at Nadia hiding behind me. The little girl clutched my dress tightly, face still pale, but her eyes were bright—no tears at all.

"Nadia," I crouched down, taking her cold little hand, "you did amazing just now."

Instantly, Nadia's eyes reddened.

She leaned forward, pressing her small head against my shoulder. "Anna, I protected you. What I couldn't do five years ago, I did it now."

Those words brushed against my heart like feathers—soft and ticklish.

Turned out I wasn't the only one trapped by five years ago. This child was too.

My eyes burned. I couldn't help pulling her close, kissing her forehead. "Yes, you were so brave. You protected me."

I raised my head, my gaze traveling over her crown to Ivan standing a few steps away. He was looking at me too. Those gray-blue eyes were like an ocean that wouldn't dissolve—deep, clearly reflecting my image inside.

I didn't dare look longer, didn't want to analyze the meaning in his eyes. I was afraid if I thought too hard, I'd fall again, foolishly believing I deserved those looks.

Nadia's emotions gradually settled. Her fingers loosened their grip on my clothes.

She pulled back from my embrace, looked up, forced a smile—those shallow dimples appearing at the corners of her mouth.

"Anna, my dad wants to talk to you. I'll go upstairs first."

Before I could stop her, she'd already turned and trotted up the stairs. The wooden steps made tapping sounds under her feet, like a little string of notes struck, quickly disappearing at the end of the second-floor hallway.

Only Ivan and I remained in the living room. Warm yellow light spilled from the wall corners, stretching the shadows of the sofas long. The air still held the residual heat from that argument.

"Anna."

Ivan spoke my name.

My whole body tensed. I forced out some composure.

Then I looked up at him, smiled politely like I would at any former employer. "Yes?"

Ivan stared at my smile.

I knew it was fake—the curve of my lips didn't match the temperature in my eyes—but I just didn't have the energy to fake it better. Anyone who'd heard those filthy words would need serious mental strength to process them.

I was no exception.

He took a step forward.

I bit down hard, fighting the urge to run.

He saw my reaction. A darkness I couldn't read spread through his gray-blue eyes. He stopped where he was, didn't advance, just repeated quietly, "Anna."

I didn't want to hear him say my name in that tone.

I looked away. "I think today's tutoring should end here. I'll head home now."

I bent down, gathering the textbooks scattered on the coffee table one by one into my bag, each movement quick, like I wasn't giving myself time to hesitate.

That scene had drained too much from me. Now I just wanted to leave this place fast, get back to my own safe little world.

"Anna."

Ivan followed behind me.

I didn't respond, my steps quickening. Even my bag strap slipped down my shoulder.

But even though I was being obvious, he had no intention of letting me go.

Ivan grabbed my wrist.

His palm was hot, completely wrapping around that thin wrist bone. I struggled once. He tightened his grip slightly—didn't hurt, but I couldn't break free.

Just then, the doorbell at the entrance rang sharply.

The piercing sound shattered the stalemate in the living room. Ivan and I both froze.

Ivan frowned, releasing my hand. "Stay here. I'll get the door."

I pressed my temples. They were still throbbing. The voice in my head kept saying—you can't stay anymore. If you stay, you'll lose your mind.

The door opened.

I instinctively looked over.

The person standing outside made me suck in a cold breath.

No one else.

My father. Gary Bennett.

How absurd—I'd avoided him countless times in five years, never imagining our reunion would be at Ivan's house.

Gary was dressed neatly, hair slicked back shiny, even wearing an ill-fitting suit. But the greedy gleam in those eyes—I recognized it instantly.

Greed, calculation, like a vulture that smelled meat, even its wing feathers radiating cold.

Ivan stood at the door, turned sideways, blocking the light.

His whole body filled the doorframe, completely cutting Gary's shadow outside. "Some nerve you have to show up here."

Gary's face immediately arranged itself into an ingratiating smile, those laugh lines piling from his eyes to his mouth. "Mr. Volkov, I'm just looking for my missing daughter. That's got nothing to do with you, right?"

"But this is my home."

Gary's smile deepened, bending forward half a step, his oily crown reflecting light. "Of course I know that, but surely you can't stop me from seeing my daughter."

He waved toward the living room, voice drawn out long and slimy. "Anna, I see you."

That voice traveled through the foyer, through the light from the sconces. When it reached my ears, it was like an icy, slimy snake crawling up the back of my neck.

I stood in the middle of the living room, legs like they'd grown roots, nailed to the floor, unable to move.

All those memories of being chased, being beaten—they replayed before my eyes.

Fear seized my heart, yanked hard. My chest contracted violently, breathing felt blocked, like oxygen couldn't reach my lungs.

I started shaking. Starting from my fingers, trembling all the way to my shoulders.

Ivan immediately sensed something wrong and crossed back to me in a few strides.

He cupped my face, palms against my icy cheeks, completely blocking that revolting gaze behind him.

"Anna, look at me. Snap out of it."

I stiffly shifted my gaze to him, had to refocus several times before I could see his face clearly.

I sucked in breath after breath, like a drowning person thrashing at the surface, finally learning to swim.

Right, don't be afraid, don't cower.

He's just scum. He can't hurt me!

Gary pushed his luck, walking inside. "Oh, my little baby, haven't seen Daddy in so long—did you miss me?"

His voice was disgusting.

He even spread his arms, like welcoming a puppy running toward him.

"Get out!"

I squeezed the words from my throat, voice hoarse. "Get the hell out! If you come near me again, I'll kill you!"

Gary stopped, shrugged, still wearing that shameless expression. "Anna, you break my heart."

"She said get out." Ivan's voice came from above my head, cold without a trace of warmth, like a freshly unsheathed blade. "Don't you understand?"

Gary pasted on a smile, wrinkles bunching on his face. "Fine, fine, I'll go. Anna, you really hurt me, but even if you don't claim me, my dear grandchild will."

Dear grandchild?

All my blood rushed to my head at once. Who was he talking about? Alex?

My heart started racing out of control again, like it would burst from my chest. How did he know about Alex?

But before I could demand answers, Gary had already turned and walked out.

My whole body felt like someone pulled out my bones. My knees went weak, nearly collapsing.

I grabbed Ivan's arm, gasping for air in huge gulps. My back was soaked with cold sweat, ears ringing.

Home. I had to get home.

I rushed toward the door in a panic, steps unsteady like walking on cotton.

Ivan caught up, steadied my shoulder. The warmth from his palm seeped through the thin fabric, barely stabilizing my near-collapse.

"Ivan, let go."

I didn't have time to waste here with him. I had to get home.

"I'll take you," he said.

I paused a moment, didn't refuse. Just silently walked toward the door. Ivan followed behind me. The whole way, no words.

The car drove smoothly along the road.

I watched the rapidly retreating street scenes outside the window, didn't say a word.

Gary's appearance shattered all my calm. The dear grandchild he mentioned—couldn't be anyone but Alex.

Would he hurt Alex?

I couldn't be sure.

That animal would do anything for money.

Ivan sensed something wrong, freed one hand, and covered the back of mine. "Don't worry. I'll protect you and Alex."

I managed to pull my mouth into something resembling a smile for him—probably looked worse than crying, but I really couldn't squeeze out anything better.

Finally, we made it to my building. The car barely stopped before I pushed open the door.

Under the streetlight outside the apartment building, Chris stood straight. He held Alex's hand, a light gray knit sweater pressed against his body in the night breeze, his posture carrying the quiet calm of patient waiting.

He saw me emerge from the car and was about to speak, but his gaze traveled past my shoulder to Ivan, who was pushing open his door and stepping out behind me.

The air froze instantly.

Late autumn wind funneled through the gaps between buildings, carrying dead leaves and cold air, scraping through that silent space between us.

Alex reacted first. His eyes lit up; he immediately broke free of Chris's hand and ran excitedly toward Ivan.

"Ivan! How come you're here?" His voice brimmed with delight. "When are you coming back to substitute for us? All the students really like you!"

Before Ivan could answer, I cut him off. "Alex, come here."

My voice came out harder than I intended, like a rock thrown into still water.

Alex froze, stopped in his tracks, turned back to look at me. The smile hadn't completely left his face, confusion floating in his eyes.

"Don't bother your teacher," I walked over, taking my son's hand. "We should go home."

Alex's small hand struggled once in my palm, then went quiet. He looked at me, then back at Ivan, lips moving like he wanted to say something, but finally swallowed it back.

I didn't look at him, didn't look at Ivan. My gaze landed on Chris, carrying an unclear mix of guilt and gratitude.

He'd been through this morning's scene, yet still came to pick up my child for me.

I held Alex's hand, walking back to Chris step by step.

I knew this was abrupt, like deliberately manufactured distance.

But I had to do this.

Gary was an absolute scoundrel. If he knew Alex's identity, he'd definitely extort Ivan.

Then Alex would be in danger.

I had to use this method to tell Ivan, and tell myself, that things between us ended long ago.

He shouldn't become Gary's wallet because of my life.