Chapter 156: Partnership
Chapter 156: Partnership
Six months after Sokolov’s defeat, Anya stood in the penthouse apartment Viktor had talked her into buying.
Not in Brighton Beach. Not in Queens. In Manhattan. With a view of Central Park.
A long way from her Riverside Heights studio apartment.
Viktor found her on the balcony. Wineglass in hand. Gazing out at the twinkling city lights.
“Looking at how far you’ve come?” he asked.
“Thinking about how far we still have to go.” Anya turned to him. “The council is functioning. We’ve stabilized our relationship with the FBI. But it’s all so tentative. One false move and it can all come crashing down.”
“You’ve been telling me that for six months. It hasn’t crashed yet.”
“The word being there.” Anya took a sip of her wine. “Dmitri is still agitating for more turf. Anthony wants a bigger share of the action from our joint operations. And Irina can’t stop hinting that I’m not experienced enough to lead the council.”
“And yet they all voted to keep you as chair. Unanimously.” Viktor stepped next to her at the railing. “You’re doing better than you realize.”
“Or I’m blind to problems I haven’t discovered yet.”
Viktor chuckled. “When did you become such a pessimist?”
“When I learned that optimism only gets you killed.” Anya put her glass down. “In this world. Paranoia is the only survival instinct.”
“That’s a fair point.” Viktor watched her. “But there’s a difference between being prudent and being afraid. You’re not afraid anymore. I can see it.”
Anya mulled that over. Was she still afraid?
A year ago, she would have said yes. Of failing. Of dying. Of becoming like her father.
Now the fear had morphed. Caution. Drive. Purpose.
“I’m afraid of different things now.” Anya looked at him. “Personal failure doesn’t scare me. Systemic failure. Letting down the people who rely on the council.”
“That’s a leader.”
“It’s a terrible job.” Anya smiled slightly. “Some days I wish I was still nobody. With no responsibilities beyond paying rent.”
“You’d be bored after a week.”
“Probably.” Anya regarded him. “Tell me about you. Do you ever feel regret? You could have left. Walked away. Found someone simpler to deal with.”
“Simpler?” Viktor came closer. “You’re the most fascinating person I’ve ever met. Why would I want simple?”
“Simple doesn’t get you FBI raids. Or assassination attempts. Or war.”
“Simple also doesn’t create councils. Or take down crime organizations.” Viktor held out his hand to her. “I’ll take the complications if it means having you.”
Warmth spread through Anya’s chest. “We never discuss us. What we are.”
“Friends. Partners. In every sense of the word.”
“Partners.” Anya tested the word. “Lovers?”
“We’re whatever we want to be.” Viktor pulled her into his chest. “I know what you mean to me. You know what I mean to you.”
Anya nuzzled against him. “When did you become a philosopher?”
“When I fell in love with a woman who makes me think.”
The words lingered between them.
Love. He’d never said it before. Neither had she.
“Viktor—”
“You don’t need to say it back. I know how you feel.” Viktor kissed her forehead. “You show it every day. In the way you trust me. In the way you want me included. In the way you build this life with me.”
Anya pulled back a bit to see him. To really see him.
Viktor Petrov. The Devil. The most dangerous man in all of Brooklyn.
Who’d chosen to stand with her. To fight with her. To build something new with her.
“I love you too.” Anya whispered. “I think I have for a while now. I just didn’t know how to say it.”
“You don’t have to say it.” Viktor pulled back. “But don’t ever leave me. Whatever happens next. Whatever the council becomes. Whatever enemies come for us. Don’t leave me.”
“Never.” Anya reached up to his face. To touch him. “You’re the only constant in my life. The only person I trust.”
They kissed. Hard. Hungry. The kind of kiss where words weren’t necessary.
When they finally pulled apart, both were winded.
“Inside,” Viktor said. “Now.”
Anya laughed. “Bossy.”
“Always.”
They went inside. To the bed. To the future stretching out before them.
Later that night, lying together in bed, Anya asked the question that had been bothering her.
“What if we aren’t enough?”
Viktor was silent for a moment. “Then we ask for help. Build teams. Delegate. Adapt.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“It’s possible.” Viktor turned to look at her. “Anya, what you’ve built is revolutionary. A council that can work with law enforcement. Families coming together. A structure that can last.”
“Can. Not will.”
“Nothing is certain. But you’ve given it the best chance.” Viktor brushed her hair back from her face. “And you’re not alone. Not anymore. You have me. You have the council. Chen. Allies.”
“And when we’re still not enough?”
“Then we improvise. As we always do.” Viktor smiled at her. “You’re always planning for worst case scenarios. Always planning for the end. Planning for disasters that may never come.”
“They always come.”
“True. But you can’t spend your whole life on guard. Always braced for the next attack.” Viktor pulled her closer to him. “Sometimes you have to just be. Present. Enjoy what you’ve built.”
Anya mulled that over. Could she be present?
The last year had been non-stop. Constant vigilance. Constant threat. Constant change.
Perhaps it was time to stop. To pause. To actually experience the life she’d fought so hard for.
“Okay.” Anya said. “I’ll try. No contingency plans for at least tonight.”
“Good.” Viktor kissed her. “See? You’re learning.”
The two lay in companionable silence. The city humming outside the windows.
“Viktor?” Anya asked. “Where do you see us in five years?”
“Honestly?”
“Seriously.”
“Still here. Still together. Hopefully with the council even more entrenched. Maybe with new threats brought down. Maybe with a life that almost seems normal.” Viktor paused. “Maybe married. If you’ll have me.”
Anya went still. “What?”
“I said maybe. Not definitely.” Viktor’s voice was cautious. “I know you have your hangups with traditional power structures. With ownership. With titles.”
“Marriage isn’t ownership.”
“Tell that to every Bratva wife who’s treated like property.”
“I’m not every Bratva wife.” Anya sat up. Looked at him. “And you’re not every Bratva husband.”
“Point taken.” Viktor sat up too. “So. Hypothetically. If I were to ask. What would you say?”
Anya considered it. Marriage. Partnership. Legal contract.
It should scare her. Everything in her past said commitment equalled control.
But with Viktor? It didn’t feel that way. Not at all. Like solidifying what they already had.
“Hypothetically?” Anya smiled. “I’d say yes. After a three month consideration period. And negotiations on terms.”
Viktor laughed. “Only you would negotiate a marriage proposal.”
“You wanted something different?”
“No. That’s why I love you.” Viktor pulled her back down next to him. “Three months. I can wait.”
“I didn’t say you were asking.”
“Not yet. But someday. When things have settled.” Viktor’s voice was serious. “I want legal partnership with you.”
“Me too.” Anya admitted. “Someday.”
The two fell asleep entangled with each other.
Outside, New York hummed.
Inside, two people who’d clawed their way from nothing to power found peace.
Tonight was theirs.
Tomorrow would bring more battles.
But tonight was enough.