All Chapters of Retribution : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

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

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

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 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.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