All Chapters of Retribution : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Anastasiya Van Houten He stood at the far end of the room, like a predator watching his prey, his keen interest could have easily been mistaken as concern. Even when the doctors and nurses rushed in to check on me, he remained. Back against the wall, watching me with beady eyes. Stepping up multiple times to remind the nurses to be gentle. The old Anastasiya would never have settled for this. Within minutes, there would have been a bloodbath—either Malcolm died, or we both did. No time for pretense. That Anastasiya had never felt this vulnerable before. It wasn't every day you switched souls with the fiancée of a man you had every intention of killing. Every inhale, every twitch of my fingers, every flicker of emotion that crossed my face—it was all being analyzed, dissected, and tucked away for later. He was testing me. And I couldn’t fail. So I played my part. I kept my shoulders slack, my expression carefully blank, my eyes clouded with just the right amount of uncer

Anastasiya Van Houten Dinner was another problem on its own.The nurses sauntered in with trays and trolleys of food, carefully selected to help with my recovery.They coaxed me to eat while I stared at them blankly, eyeing the dinner in front of me warily. The smell of it sickened me—the smell of everything did. The strong antiseptic and drugs were the worst. I hated hospitals so much that I had learned how to perform stitches on myself.I barely touched the food, pushing it around with my fork, wary of every bite. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe I was safe—not in this place, not around these people. Malcom had played his part well, but I knew better than to trust the man who had cornered his fiancée and shot her off a cliff.The only reason I ate at all was that starving myself would raise suspicion.So, I picked at the meal, taking small bites, waiting for any sign of bitterness or an odd aftertaste. Nothing. Not that it meant I was in the clear, but at least I wouldn’t be keelin

Anastasiya Van Houten Fifty-six minutes and twenty-five seconds ."Fuck," I exhaled in frustration, slamming my hand against the back of the door. Everything was wrong. Every—fucking—thing was going so wrong. Malcom had tripled the number of guards at the door.Imagine my surprise after sneaking through the door, clutching a glass decanter in my hand, ready to smack the shit out of these blockheaded masses of muscle—only to walk right into a crowded hallway.What was once three had multiplied into twelve.Twelve—fucking—guards. Even the prime minister himself did not walk around with a convoy this large. I looked like a deer caught in headlights as they stared down at me. I could only laugh it off nervously before announcing that I was looking for Hannah—needed some water.The main guard in charge, a beefy man with an almost blondish mustache, loomed over me like a towering shadow.He personally led me to the hospital kitchen to get water, and a few minutes later, he was trailing b

Anastasiya Van Houten Paralyzed.That was the only word that could explain my situation at this moment. Paralyzed with fear—not just of Malcom, but of the sheer fact that I might not be able to save my body.Because behind Malcom stood one man.Not just any man.Agent Fourteen.Maxwell Richter.Before I climbed my way up the ranks in Nova Command, I endured thousands of defeats. I had been thrown off my feet so many times by masochism, cruelty, and power struggles that I knew exactly when to admit defeat.And right now, in my weakened state against Richter—unless some miracle returned my strength and skills—I was cooked.But I wasn’t Anastasiya Van Houten if I didn’t laugh in the face of death."You dumb fucking bastards," I exhaled, pushing my hair away from my face, darting my gaze between Malcom’s Cheshire grin and Agent Fourteen’s emotionless stare."Ah," Malcom nodded, satisfaction etched deep into his face. "Cat got your mask?"They both moved closer, caging me in like predator

Anastasiya Van Houten Blood trickled down my forehead, mingling with the sweat that littered my skin.I could barely keep my eyes open, the pain coursing through my body was numbing, pulling me under. Into the darkness. But I had to stay awake, stay alive until I found out what happened to my body.If not for Maxwell's secure grip around my hair, hoisting my head up while I was on my knees, I would have collapsed long ago.Malcom sat before me by the altar, his legs wide open as his lips curled in that familiar, mocking smile—the one that sent every nerve in my body screaming to run.But I didn’t.I stood my ground. Like always.His dark gaze swept over me, slow and deliberate, taking in my disheveled state—torn clothes, a literally ripped shoulder blade, bloodshot eyes, and bruises on every angle.“You really couldn't just pretend?” His voice was smooth, almost teasing. “I must say, with how convincing your acting was that day, I wasn't expecting you to fall so easily for such an o