Chapter 14: Chapter Fourteen.

"Thank you." Xena said with a polite smile, handing the fare to the taxi driver before stepping out of the vehicle.

As the taxi pulled away, she turned to take in the familiar sight of the house she had grown up in. It wasn't grand or luxurious, but it was home.

A quaint, two-story structure with whitewashed walls, flower boxes brimming with vibrant blooms, and a small porch adorned with a rocking chair that her Nana loved to sit in.

The sight filled Xena's heart with warmth and a sense of safety she hadn't felt in days.

She adjusted the strap of her bag and grabbed her suitcase, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

The events in New York still haunted her, but being here, at her family home, felt like a shield against the chaos she had narrowly escaped.

As she climbed the short set of stairs to the porch, she reached for the doorbell, but before she could press it, she heard the sound of hurried footsteps from inside.

"I'll get it, Nana!" her younger brother Diego's voice rang out excitedly, followed by the sound of the locks being fumbled with.

A chuckle escaped her lips as she waited for him to open the door. Behind him, she heard her Nana's voice, calm and nurturing as always. "Diego, be careful! Don't trip over yourself."

The door finally swung open, and Xena's blue eyes met Diego's bright turquoise ones. His face lit up with uncontainable joy, and he flung the door open wider before launching himself into her arms.

"Xena!" he cried, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist.

Xena staggered back slightly from the force of his hug but laughed, dropping her bag to embrace him properly.

"Diego! I was only gone for a few days, you silly boy." Xena said with a soft laugh, ruffling his hair as he clung to her side, his excitement contagious.

"But it felt like forever!" Diego replied with a cheeky grin, his turquoise eyes sparkling with joy.

He turned his attention to her luggage, attempting to lift it with all the strength his twelve-year-old body could muster. Xena chuckled and crouched down to help him.

"How about we do this together, champ? I think your arms still need a few more years of lasagna power to manage this on your own."

Just then, she heard her Nana's familiar voice call out from the living room. "Xena?"

She looked up to see her Nana standing by the doorway, a frown etched on her face, her surprise evident.

"Hey, Nana." Xena greeted warmly, dropping her bag to rush over and wrap her grandmother in a tight hug.

Her Nana held her close for a moment before pulling back, her eyes scanning Xena as if searching for answers.

"I thought you were staying for a week. Why are you back so soon?"

Xena sighed, offering a small smile. "I missed you guys. Besides, I didn't want to leave you handling the restaurant alone. A four-day vacation was enough for me."

She moved to sit on the sofa, trying to appear nonchalant as Diego wrestled with her suitcase, dragging it awkwardly toward the stairs.

Her Nana followed her to the couch, her expression softening but still tinged with concern.

She reached out and placed a hand over Xena's, and the younger woman flinched ever so slightly.

Her Nana's brow furrowed. "What happened?" she asked, her tone quiet but probing.

Xena forced a reassuring smile. "Nothing, Nana. I'm fine, really. I'm just a little tired. I didn't get much sleep while I was there."

Her Nana studied her for a moment, her gaze unwavering. Xena could tell she wasn't entirely convinced, but she pressed on.

"Besides." Xena continued, "I came back partly because Elena got called to Paris for an emergency with work. She had to leave early, so I figured I might as well return, too. See? No big deal."

Her Nana let out a small sigh, finally nodding. "If you say so, my dear." she said, though a hint of worry lingered in her eyes.

She gave Xena's hand a gentle squeeze, then smiled.

"You remind me so much of your mother-beautiful, strong, and with that spark of fire in your eyes."

The mention of her mother caused Xena's heart to ache slightly. Her Nana looked down at her lap, her expression suddenly clouded with sadness.

"I miss her so much." her Nana whispered. "She shouldn't have married that man..."

Xena's brows knitted together, her curiosity piqued. "Nana, what do you mean-"

A loud thud interrupted her question, followed by the sound of fabric sliding down the stairs.

Both women turned to see Xena's clothes sprawled across the floor at the foot of the staircase. Diego stood at the top, his hands on his hips and a sheepish grin on his face.

"Oops, it slipped!" he said, clearly trying to stifle his laughter.

Xena and her Nana exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter themselves.

"Diego, you're impossible." Xena said, shaking her head as she got up to collect the fallen clothes.

As Xena picked up the mess, her Nana watched her closely, her smile faltering ever so slightly. Her gaze lingered on her granddaughter, and a quiet prayer slipped from her lips.

"I pray he doesn't find you." her Nana murmured, her voice almost inaudible. "I don't want you dragged into that world."

She turned and walked toward the kitchen, leaving Xena to tidy up the mess, oblivious to the silent plea her Nana had just made.

♧♧♧

Meanwhile...

A convoy of sleek black cars came to a halt on the tarmac beside a gleaming private jet. The first BMW's door swung open, and Viktor Sokolov emerged, exuding an aura of danger and command.

His tailored suit hugged his broad frame, and his icy gray eyes scanned the surroundings with calculated indifference.

The chauffeur bowed deeply, but Viktor strode past him without a word, his presence alone making the air feel heavier.

Ascending the jet's stairs with purpose, Viktor entered and made his way to a plush leather seat.

The interior of the aircraft was as luxurious as one would expect of the infamous Russian mafia boss. Everything from the marble accents to the soft lighting screamed opulence.

Moments later, the pilot approached cautiously, standing at a respectful distance. "Good day, sir. We are ready for takeoff." he said, bowing slightly.

Viktor didn't bother looking up. "Change the route." he commanded in a low voice. "To Italy."

The pilot nodded without hesitation. "Understood, sir. Enjoy your flight." He retreated to the cockpit, leaving Viktor to his thoughts.

The engines roared to life, and soon the jet was soaring above the clouds. Viktor leaned back in his seat, pulling out his laptop to work.

Numbers and reports filled the screen, but his mind refused to focus. Xena Rossi's image crept into his thoughts, unbidden yet relentless. Her blue eyes, full of defiance, haunted him.

Her soft lips, her delicate neck, her subtle curves-everything about her ignited something primal within him.

With a frustrated growl, he slammed the laptop shut and tossed it onto the seat beside him. Running a hand through his thick dark hair, he closed his eyes, as if trying to will her out of his mind. Instead, the memories intensified.

He saw her again-her body, graceful and tempting without even trying. The scent of her skin, the way she had looked at him with both fear and fire, the way her lips had moved when she spoke...

"Fuck." he cursed in Russian, his grip tightening on the armrest until his knuckles turned white.

Then, his jaw clenched as a different memory surfaced-the sight of one of his men grabbing her during their last encounter. The image made his blood boil. He he happy and glad that he killed him at that spot.

"My little fire." he whispered hoarsely, the words slipping past his lips. "What are you doing to me?"

A deep ache began to build, his trousers tightening painfully as his arousal took hold. His body betrayed his discipline, his control.

Suddenly, the sound of heels clicking against the cabin floor interrupted his thoughts.

A flight attendant approached, her posture deliberately sensual. She adjusted her already tight blouse, letting it dip low enough to reveal the swell of her chest.

Her painted red lips curled into a coy smile.

"Hello, Mr. Sokolov." she said, her tone dripping with seduction. She leaned slightly forward, giving him an ample view.

Viktor didn't even glance at her. His gaze remained fixed ahead, the storm brewing in his mind rendering her invisible.

Undeterred, she inched closer, her fingers brushing against his arm.

"Are you stressed, Mr. Sokolov?" she cooed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can help you relax..."

Her hand slid suggestively down his arm, but before she could finish her sentence, Viktor's hand shot out, gripping her neck with alarming speed and precision.

Her eyes widened in terror as his cold gray gaze finally landed on her. "Don't ever fucking touch me." he snarled, his voice low and venomous.

She whimpered, her hands clawing weakly at his iron grip. He tilted his head slightly, studying her with a mixture of disdain and fury. Her blonde hair, her green eyes-they were nothing like Xena's.

"*Whore*." he spat in Russian, his accent thick with disgust. "You're nothing but a pathetic, desperate *whore*."

Releasing her neck, he shoved her backward. She stumbled, clutching her throat and gasping for air, tears streaming down her face.

"Get out." he barked, his voice cutting through the cabin like a blade.

She didn't wait for him to repeat himself. Scrambling to her feet, she fled the cabin, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts.

Alone once more, Viktor exhaled deeply, his chest heaving with barely contained rage. He closed his eyes, leaning back against the seat.

"Xena." he whispered again, her name lingering in the air like a forbidden prayer.