Chapter 59: Chapter Fifty Nine.

Nana’s body stiffened at the name—her heart skipped a beat, and the air suddenly felt too thick to breathe in.

She glanced at Diego, who was still by her side, eyes wide and innocent, oblivious to the storm about to unfold. Without a word, she gently touched his shoulder and tilted her head toward the staircase.

“Go upstairs, baby,” she said softly, her voice low but urgent.

Diego hesitated, glancing between the tall, intimidating man in the room and his grandmother. But he didn’t argue—he nodded and slowly made his way up the stairs, casting one last look before disappearing.

Nana waited until she heard the faint click of the door upstairs before she turned back to face Viktor, her entire demeanor shifting. The fear in her eyes was gone, replaced with fire and fury.

“You already have her, Viktor,” she said, jaw clenched tightly. “So why are you standing in my house, asking about Marco?”

Viktor’s eyes, cold and unreadable, narrowed slightly. He didn’t blink. Didn’t move. And then—he spoke.

“Because I want to know about the deal going on between Marco and Xena,” he said, voice smooth and sharp like a knife.

Nana’s blood ran cold.

She blinked, her throat suddenly dry as she tried to process what she’d just heard. “What are you talking about?” she asked, though her voice betrayed her nerves. Her words trembled, barely keeping up with her thoughts.

Viktor wasn’t smiling. His face was carved in stone, pure control and danger wrapped in a tailored black coat. And then he took a step toward her, slow… threatening… deliberate.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he said, eyes never leaving hers. “Stop pretending. Stop hiding.” His voice dropped lower—gravelly and possessive. “Xena is mine. Mine. And I don’t share, Nana. I don’t tolerate another man hovering over what belongs to me. Especially not one who thinks he can take her.”

Nana swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the hem of her apron.

“I… Is Xena safe?” she managed to ask, voice quieter now, layered with both worry and something else—dread.

A slow, dark chuckle left Viktor’s throat, but there was no humor in it. Only pride. And obsession.

“She’s *very* safe,” he said, almost in a whisper, but it carried like thunder. “But Marco? He won’t be, not for long. I’m not here to talk about *if* he’ll be gone—I’m here to find out *what* she’s promised him. What deal they’ve made… what connection they have that he thinks gives him a right to look at her like that.”

His voice darkened, jaw ticking as the fury threatened to leak through his tight control.

“I will not let any man believe he can touch her. I need to know *everything*, Nana. Because if she gave that bastard even a whisper of hope, I swear on everything I’ve built—I’ll crush him.”

And just like that, the room grew colder.

Nana let out a long breath, her shoulders dropping in silent defeat before she slowly turned and gestured toward the couch.

“Sit” she said softly.

Viktor didn’t hesitate. He moved with the calm confidence of a man who always got answers—whether peacefully or by force. He took a seat, legs spread, hands clasped together. Mikhail followed behind and plopped down beside him with much less intensity.

“Do you two want water or something?” Nana asked, her voice tired as she turned toward the kitchen.

“Water!” Mikhail called out enthusiastically like they were at some friendly brunch.

Viktor slowly turned his head and shot him a glare.

Mikhail grinned sheepishly. “...Please,” he added quickly.

Nana returned moments later with two glasses of water, placing them gently on the table before sitting down in the chair across from them, her fingers nervously intertwining as she prepared herself.

“Xena was just a little girl when the deal got sealed,” she began quietly, staring at nothing in particular, her voice heavy with the weight of past mistakes.

Viktor’s gaze sharpened immediately.

“My son…” she exhaled. “He was young, ambitious, but careless. He got entangled with the wrong kind of people before he could even fully understand the world he was dipping his feet into. The underworld doesn’t come with warnings… just consequences.”

She looked down at her lap, her eyes glossing with memory. “His company was on the brink of collapse. Bankruptcy. Investors were pulling out. Shareholders were threatening to sue him. The pressure was so much, he started drinking—started talking about ending his life. And just when everything was crumbling… help came.”

Viktor leaned forward slightly, silent but listening like a hawk.

“It was the Bellinis,” Nana said, voice flat. “They offered a miracle. Millions of dollars to pull the company out of ruin. No conditions, no questions asked—or so it seemed. My son was too desperate to think. His wife begged him to wait, told him it felt off, warned him to do some digging before accepting anything. But he didn’t. The promise of relief was too shiny, too easy.”

She paused, shaking her head as her eyes turned glassy.

“But she was right. She was so right…” Nana whispered. “If only he had listened. Because the truth was—it wasn’t just generosity. It was Marco.”

Viktor’s jaw clenched.

“Marco?” he repeated slowly.

Nana nodded. “It was him all along. He told his parents to help my son. Pushed for it. Even sweetened the deal, encouraged them to seal the contract without asking for anything back… not right away, at least.”

“Why would he do that?” Mikhail asked, brows furrowed.

Nana’s lips trembled as she looked down.

“Because of a little… fetish,” she whispered.

Viktor’s entire body went still. “What kind of fetish?” he asked coldly, though his voice was already dangerous.

Nana hesitated before finally forcing the words out.

“On Xena,” she breathed. “He saw her once… at a party, back when she was just thirteen. Barely a teenager. But something about her… he became fixated. And from that moment, it wasn’t a loan anymore—it was a deal. An investment. The money he offered wasn’t free. It came with an unspoken price: one day, she’d belong to him.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, so thick it was suffocating.

Viktor leaned back, his fists clenched on his lap, knuckles white. His chest rose and fell with restrained rage, and his eyes—once cold—now burned.

“That bastard,” he muttered under his breath.

Nana could feel the storm building inside him. She didn’t speak. She knew better than to interrupt a man like Viktor when his silence was louder than words.

But Viktor’s next words made her blood run cold.

“No one touches what’s mine,” he said, his voice low and venomous. “I don’t care who Marco Bellini is. I’ll burn everything he built. I’ll dig into that contract. I’ll tear up every paper, every promise, every hidden clause. Because Xena was *never* his to claim.”

“But… the deal was signed,” Nana said slowly, her voice cracking under the weight of what came next. “That’s why… they gave Xena to me. To hide her. To protect her from what was coming.”

Viktor’s head snapped toward her.

“They gave her to you?” he asked, his voice dangerously calm.

Nana nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek. “They faked their deaths. Both of them—her mother and father. No one knew. Not even Xena. She still believes they’re gone… and it’s better that way. Safer.”