Anastasiya Van Houten
“That’s your problem Agent Twelve, you never know when to quit” Was that his villain monologue or his epic reveal speech? Should I fall to my knees and curse the heavens because a totally irrelevant Brutus finally showed his true colors—the same ones I spotted a mile away? Honestly, the audacity of filler characters these days. I hadn’t even gotten to the forest and here I was, bleeding, bruised, and cornered by someone I once fought alongside. I might’ve laughed if I wasn’t trying so hard to stay conscious. The thick sack over my head smelled like King Kong’s diapers, and my arms were tied behind my back at an awkward angle. We weren’t stationary; that much I knew. I had smacked against hard surfaces more times than I wanted to count. I could also feel the vibrations of the damn vehicle reverberating through my bones. I must have been stuffed into the trunk. I had seen this coming. I knew there was a mole in Nova Command. And it just had to be Richte—sorry, was it Rickler or Richmond? Nova Command didn’t belong to the government, nor was it a non-governmental agency. It just existed. No one truly knew the creator or the real owner. It existed to bring down those who thought they were above the law. We received assignments and information anonymously. Three days ago, I stumbled across intel on a new target. Malcom Reece. The fucking prime minister of the United Kingdom. The list of his crimes was definitely the lengthiest I had come across. Each offense painted a disturbing picture of corruption and depravity, but one specific crime stood out above the rest. Child trafficking. It wasn’t just the sheer scale of it that made my stomach churn. It was the cold, calculated manner in which it was executed, leaving hundreds of innocent lives shattered and irreparably scarred. It made my blood boil, and in that moment, I knew this mission wasn’t just business—it was personal. I definitely wasn’t a hero, and I obviously didn’t join Nova Command to save lives and protect mankind. What am I? The guardian of the galaxy? The pay was good, and honestly, I got to kill people for fun and get away with it. Win-win, if you ask me. I was never once committed to apprehending any of the previous targets, but this… this felt personal. Maybe it was because I knew what it was like to be ripped from a safe, peaceful life and thrown into a world of brutality and sadistic torture. That kind of trauma leaves a wound that never heals. There was no coming back from that, and Malcom Reece—the fucking prime minister—had successfully smuggled over 300 children to the worst and most despicable countries ever, when it came to brutality—Russia and Germany. I didn’t need a sorcerer to tell me that as of this moment, half of them weren’t alive. That very thought fueled my determination. I’m sure you must be wondering how an insignificant and irrelevant member of an even more insignificant organization wanted to go against the prime minister—alone? As karma would have it, it seemed I wasn’t the only one who actually had the balls to stand against Malcom Reece. That person was someone closest to him. His very own fiancée—the princess and the only surviving member of the kingdom of Heledir. I had never seen her in person, but I could tell even from behind the screen of my century-old television, she was different. There was something about the cold and detached yet heartbreaking sorrow in her eyes as she stood alone, surrounded by the remains of her family, cast in stone beneath her feet. I watched her with a semblance of pride as she stood before hundreds of media personnel who didn’t understand the fucking meaning of a funeral. She never once let a single teardrop. It was because of that very fact that when I saw her initials, boldly printed at the far end of the envelope that contained everything I needed to bring Malcom Reece down, I wasn’t entirely surprised. A cough escaped my lips as the air around me seemed to saturate—thick and heavy. It was suffocating. My lungs burned, and the rag around my face felt tighter as if it was fed up with my inner monologue and was on its way to shut me up. Permanently. My heart lurched in my throat as I felt the car jerk to an abrupt stop. With bated breath, I tried to use my hearing to figure out what was going on outside. I could hear the subtle chirping of birds and the crunch of dead leaves under a person’s weight. This entire situation felt all too familiar. Before I could conjure up more ways to dissect the situation, I felt the blissful whisper of the night breeze across my face, a serene feeling before it was totally washed away by a bold and sneering grip on my lower limbs. I could barely keep the curse words from spewing out of my mouth as I was roughly dragged out of the trunk. Hard surfaces and jagged edges scraped my skin, each scrape igniting a flash of pain that reminded me just how vulnerable I was. My heart hammered in my chest. Would this be the moment everything fell apart? For a brief, surreal second, I was floating in mid-air, my arms bound tightly behind my back, before I crashed ungraciously to the ground with a sharp hit and a mouth full of broken twigs. The taste of dirt and splinters mingled bitterly, but it was nothing compared to the sinking dread settling in my stomach. , “You dumb fucking—” I was cut off abruptly as the fabric obscuring my vision was yanked away. I flinched away from the blinding light. “What— Can you get that fucking light off my face, please?” My very polite request was met with a sneer, but he obliged nonetheless. I took a much-needed moment to assess my surroundings. Not only was I in the middle of a pitch-black unknown forest, but I was defenseless and surrounded by four men armed to the teeth. My gaze settled on Agent Fourteen’s empty eyes. Not a sign of remorse or even regret. Not that I was expecting any—remorse was a cowardly emotion. “Who would have thought the untouchable Agent Twelve would be seated beneath my feet, just right below my balls?” He laughed cruelly, his blonde hair waving around him like a halo. A proud smile adorned my lips. “Come on, I’m not all that. But would you like an autograph? All I need is a knife, and we’re good to go.” His eyes bore Into mine as he crouched down to my level. “Don’t worry. By the time he’s done with you, I will personally request an autograph from your grave.” “Take her.” The men surrounding the car rushed to grab me by the underarms. My mind wasn’t on Blondie anymore. There was only one ‘him’ in this situation. The tips of my toes dragged roughly through the dirt, kicking up dust and loose pebbles as I was hauled forward. My captors moved with mechanical precision, their grip unyielding and their expressions unreadable. Shadows stretched between the trees, dark and foreboding, swallowing the path ahead as though it led straight to hell. Deep down, I knew it. My chances of survival were below ten percent.Anastasiya Van Houten A yelp escaped my lips as I was tossed onto the hard, unforgiving earth. I could barely see anything with blinding lights flashing directly into my eyes from different directions. The only thing I could hear was a roaring almost trickling sound in the background. I thought I was alone for a moment, until a voice—a rich, dark baritone—cut through the chaos. “You must be Anastasiya, Nice to meet you. I’m Malcom Reece” He stepped into my line of vision, his silhouette temporarily blocking the blinding lights, giving me a clear view of his face. I froze, caught off guard by his appearance. He was young—shockingly so—with messy blonde curls framing a face that could almost pass as innocent. Almost. The crinkle in his eyes deepened as he glanced at his outstretched hand, urging me to shake it. A sneer adorned my lips as I glanced at him head to toe. Did bro forget that my hands were chained behind me, sure I had picked the lock on the way but no one knew that.
Anastasiya Van Houten. “ I have a file” I blurted out, barely concealing the desperation in my voice, watching slowly to see if he took the bait. He stared back at me, his face neutral, except for an eyebrow raise, urging me to speak with a wave of his gun. “It’s called Pandora. It contains files on every high end politician or royalty, every single crime they could have committed, every single person and action you can think of ranging from murder to even a mere speeding ticket”. The gleam in his eye could almost be seen from even where I stood despite how hard he tried to mask it. To others he came of as totally unconcerned- disbelieving even but I could tell that even the thought of having that file in his hands made him excited. “Where is this file you speak of” He asked, pointing the gun away from Valencia and towards me. Good. “It’s in my apartment at Fenchurch, I have the apartment keys on me at the moment”. I replied hastily. He nodded before cocking his head towards A
Anastasiya Van Houten“Anastasiya.”“Anastasiya.”The voice was faint but unmistakable. My head snapped around, searching desperately in the suffocating darkness, which pressed against my skin like a heavy shroud. I reached out blindly, but my hands grasped only empty air.I stood still, waiting for the voice to call out again, but the silence echoed like a drum.“Who’s there?” My voice trembled, barely a whisper, swallowed whole by the void.No reply. Just empty space.My mind whirled in confusion. Where was I?Wasn’t I supposed to be dead? ...Am I dead?Was this what it felt like to be dead?I was lost and confused, suffocating in a darkness that had no end and no beginning. My legs pushed forward—I didn’t know what to do but to keep going, hoping that the voice would sound out again. My skin prickled at the possibility of what lurked in the darkness.As time dragged on, I could feel each step getting heavier than before, so much so that I struggled to lift my legs. Huffs escaped my
Anastasiya Van Houten My breaths came out in harsh, heavy pants as I shot upright, my chest burning as I gulped greedily for air. I was drowning. My hand immediately reached for my throat, rubbing it furiously, trying to ease the burning sensation. My skin felt clammy, and my hair was all over the place—wild strands clinging to my face and slipping into my mouth. I swiped them all away, taking a moment to steady myself before my eyes finally focused, and reality came flooding back. It was a dream. All of It. A horrible nightmare. My hands shook as I rubbed my temples in a bid to ease my throbbing head. Where was I? What was going on? Despite the worry etched on my face, my instincts kicked in, and I found myself glancing around the room, eager to identify where I was, to keep myself grounded. I was at a hospital. The strong smell of antiseptics lingered, just as potent as the loud and obnoxious beeping of the heart monitor beside me. A dreadful thought rushed throug
Anastasiya Van HoutenMy vision blurred, the overlapping voices blending into a chaotic mess. I tried to latch onto one voice, but they all jumbled together into incoherence."It's me, Hannah.""What are you feeling, princess?""Could she have internal bleeding?""What's your full name?""Enough," I gritted out, my voice sharp with exasperation. The confusion was unbearable, my patience fraying by the second.The room fell silent. The expectant and curious looks on their faces dissolved into hesitation as if they could sense the frustrated energy radiating from me. I was seconds away from smashing something and forcing someone to explain why I was in this godforsaken hospital room."I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I just—" the crying woman began but was swiftly cut off by the doctor."Let's not overwhelm her with too much information," he said, stepping toward me with measured caution. "I understand what you're feeling, Miss Nightingale."I eyed him warily as he continued, "Do we have you
Anastasiya Van Houten"Come on Anastasiya" I growled, forcing my legs to take another step. How did someone like me, who leapt from crazy heights, who jumped meters in a single leap be reduced to this?? A bumbling and confused doofus who couldn't even take a fucking step toward a mirror that was less than ten steps away. The frustration and anger that I had been bottling up seemed to have found a way out of its lid and was now threatening to engulf me as a whole. My legs felt like jelly, the bandage around my head was constricting, I could barely see anything, Fuck. I was in the middle of nowhere. My fingers curled tightly around the bedpost as I leaned against it, taking a small breather. Beads of sweat dribbled down my face before falling silently onto the sleeves of this drab and dreary hospital gown. Where was Valencia? She is the only person that can clarify this misconception. Was she all right? I honestly didn't know why I was so worried about her, I didn't even know
Anastasiya Van Houten.Once again, i was lost. My reality sucked out of me and hurled into this nightmarish limbo, an eternal vortex of confusion...wonder, a grappling sense of loss of identity. I needed a line, a very broad one. One that explained where Valencia began and where i ended. I wasn’t a very religious person and i didn’t believe in miracles or special happenings that had no cause or explanation. Everything that happens around you, even down to the smallest detail was orchestrated by someone’s actions or words.Smart and Logical. It wasn’t until you were finally standing right infront of it, stuck in an endless road with zero possibilities, trying to make sense and put logic to words and try to create a plausible explanation that it finally hit you. Not everything has an answer or a cause. What ever you think you have figured out, that very answer you think you’ve found after years of searching.It’s always wrong.You’re always wrong.I stood rooted to the spot, my brea
Anastasiya Van Houten.Malcom Reece was holding me.Malcom Reece was holding me...His grip was firm but careful, as though he had caught me mid-fall and was still holding on.Why?How was he here? Why was I in his arms?My blood ran cold. Terror gripped me like a vice, tightening around my ribs, making it impossible to move. I couldn’t do anything but lay in his arms. I couldn't even breathe right without sounding like a dying and wheezing seagull.I should shove him away. I should run. But I couldn’t—not just because my body refused to cooperate, but because of the way he was looking at me.His expression was unreadable, but something flickered behind his gaze, something I couldn’t decipher.Softness.As if I were something precious to him.Hope. Care. Longing.The sheer audacity of it nearly knocked the breath from my lungs.I was paralyzed, not just from the shock of waking up in his arms but from the creeping realization that I couldn’t move.I had lost all feeling in my lower li
Valencia Nightingale.Anatoly didn't speak as he dragged me back through the pristine, endless hallways of Vladislav's villa— he didn't need to.His silence was loud enough to send his message clearly.His fury was evident, so visible, i could cut through it with a butter knife. It was practically vibrating from his massive body, as if every step he took barely contained the storm building inside him.I almost pitied him.Key word—almost.But right now? I was too high on adrenaline.And victory.A small, triumphant grin played at the corner of my mouth as I allowed myself to be dragged along. My shoulder still ached and after my scruffle with those guards earlier, the ache had intensified, spreading down my arm, numbing my forearm.But none of that mattered.I had done it.I had gotten Vladislav's attention.Not just a passing glance.Not just idle curiosity.But genuine interest.I had forced him to see meAnd Anatoly? He hated it.I could practically hear his teeth grinding behind t
Valencia Nightingale True to his words, I had no choice but to take in every crap and piss they gave me and swallow it without complaining. I spent my night pressed against the door, counting the number of footsteps that echoed as someone walked by, trying to keep the memory of the twists and turns that led to Vladislav’s office fresh and clear in my head. I even stole a paper off the desk and mapped the entire area I walked through with that brute in case I forgot anything. You know what they say? Two times the charm. I was going to put in all my effort to convince Vladislav again. Maybe my argument wasn't solid enough the last time. By the time dawn rolled in, I'd already memorized every inch of the room. Every crack in the walls. Every angle of the windows. Every guard rotation that I could hear just beyond the thick mahogany door. There was no clear path to my destination. If I was planning on escaping, it would have been much easier, but escaping was the last thing on my
Valencia Nightingale A soundless gasp escaped my lips as my back hit the bed, knocking the wind right out of me. Pain bloomed instantly around my shoulder, numbing my arm. I groaned through gritted teeth, trying to steady myself as my shoulder burned with raging intensity, every nerve screaming in protest. "Fuck," I seethed, tears stinging my eyes before they shot up to the looming brute hovering over me at the edge of the bed. "I'm going to—" "No," he growled, cutting my words in half. "You know what you're going to do?" His tone was sharp and direct, meant to slice. The question was rhetorical, the kind that didn't require an answer, just submission. And I definitely wasn't submitting to no man. Anger rolled off him in thick waves, raising the temperature of the already suffocating room. It pressed against my skin and seemed to block my airways. I inhaled slowly, tasting the faint metallic tang of blood on the back of my tongue. My pulse hammered in my ears, each beat a remi
Valencia Nightingale"You didn’t think I saved you because I wanted to help you, did you?"His words replayed in my head, dull and throbbing like a pulsing migraine, words uttered so carelessly that one wouldn't be able to detect the cruel intent behind them. I could almost taste the smirk behind his stone-cold face.Every ounce of the previous warmth I had so desperately sought out, in an attempt to make him appear more humane, vanished before my eyes.A cold sensation settled in my stomach. I couldn’t stuff down the bitter emotion rising to the surface of my throat.Disappointment."Then why did you save me?"Vladislav exhaled through his nose, the faintest trace of amusement flickering across his face. He tilted his head slightly, studying me as if I were an interesting puzzle piece that had landed in his lap.“To use you as an exchange for something I want from him.”The words were spoken with such nonchalance that it took me a moment to fully register them.I stared at him, my mi
Valencia Nightingale. The aroma of dark, rich, traditional coffee wafted through my nostrils as I sat stiffly opposite Vladislav in his office. The scent of coffee, though quite mouthwatering, did nothing to distract me from the undeniably and unreasonably attractive man before me. In all my twenty-three years of living, I had never once looked at a man and thought, "Wow, this man is attractive". But sitting here, despite fuming with anger, that very single thought kept running through my mind. His face was undeniably carved from stone, his features sharp and intimidating, but as I stared longer, watching him through keen eyes as he combed through a bunch of files on his desk, he looked somewhat softer. Maybe it was the bold ray of sun that reflected through the glass windows or the fact that I might have sustained a brutal concussion from that humongousaur attack, but I found myself noticing the way freckles danced across the bridge of his nose—slightly crooked. Long, shoulder
Valencia Nightingale.My mind churned with plans.I knew Valencia had given me the chance to live my life in her name, but the guilt clawing at my chest wouldn’t subside until I destroyed everyone who had hurt her.And my pride as well—I would never let Malcom and Maxwell Richter get away with what they did to me.The pieces were aligning, but not fast enough. I needed a strategy, a foothold—something to ensure that when I made my move, it would be absolute. Vladislav was the key, but the lock was still uncertain. How could I manipulate a man who had built an empire without ever picking a side?I could tell he wasn't the type of man to be swayed by carnal desires; otherwise, I could have used femininity to sway him.Bargain? I didn't even own shit.My mind was so lost in thought that I didn’t notice the shift in the room’s atmosphere.Not until a shadow moved.A presence, silent and dominating, filled the space.My eyes snapped up, landing on the massive figure standing near the do
Valencia Nightingale.An almost inaudible groan left my lips as I turned my head to the side, my eyes fluttering open. A thick fog clung to my consciousness, heavy and uneven. My mind felt slow, buffering up my memories as i lay still.I blinked a few times, my vision sharpening finally as I glanced around before latching onto the faint glow of the morning sun filtering through the tiny space between the heavy curtains on the left side of the bed.Where the fuck am I?I lifted my arm, fingers moving sluggishly to rub at my eyes, willing away the lingering itch of exhaustion. The feeling of silk on my bare skin was soft—too soft. A luxury compared to the life I had always been living.My brows furrowed as I finally took in my surroundings.I was lying in a bed. A massive bed.Massive enough that I felt like a grain of sand lost in a desert.I turned my head, my gaze trailing across the endless expanse of dark sheets, the plush pillows, and the intricately carved headboard that loomed
Hi, Lovelies. This is Rahma, the author of Retribution, and if you find yourself here, skimming through this authors note, then I'm really happy and grateful that you read my story. Please tell me what you think, what you find confusing, and your general thoughts about my book and your favorite characters so far. Thank you. *VERY IMPORTANT. MUST READ* As of this stage in the book, Anastasiya has fully accepted her role and her new life as Valencia. Anastasiya Van Houten is dead, and as that, I will no longer be writing in her point of view. She will now be addressed as Valencia as I continue with this book. Forever. I hope this clears the air, and you won't be confused when you read the next chapter, and it's in Valencia Nightingale's point of view. I love you all, and thank you for reading my book. Don't forget to give me a review and tell me your honest thoughts. With much love. Rahma♡
Anastasiya Van Houten.Have you ever been on meth before?That creeping sensation when the drug seeps into your system, twisting reality at the edges. Your vision distorts, colors sharpen, and suddenly, you’re soaring through galaxies—spinning, weightless, untethered. The world bends, warps, shifts into something unnatural.And yet, somewhere deep inside, you accept it.That eerie, almost serene acceptance.That was exactly how it felt now.And as I found myself, laying in the middle of a field, the rays of the warm yet blinding sun casting a golden hue across my face, obscuring my vision for a moment. The scent of wet grass, clung to my nose, wafting up my senses, providing a vivid imagery to the world I found myself in this time.I didn’t struggle, jump into a whirlwind of questions as I had done before, I silently accepted that I was in another dimension, maybe in the middle of the milky way, A dimension that was neither a dream nor reality. Despite the sheer absurdity, I felt that