Nastya was no closer to making a decision, but the pressure was mounting with every passing second. Anton's text was clear—no more waiting. He wasn't going to be patient. He wasn't going to offer her an escape.
She stared at her phone, the screen lighting up in the dim light of her apartment. His words cut through the night: We have a deal to make.
But it wasn't just about the contract anymore, was it? It wasn't about the cold, calculated offer of money in exchange for her presence. It was more personal now. It was about power, about control, about a world that didn't make sense but somehow felt more real than anything else.
Her fingers tightened around the phone. She had been thinking about this decision all night, weighing the consequences, the risk. But now, she couldn't ignore it any longer. She had to choose. There was no more room for hesitation.
If I say yes… what does that mean for me? For my family?
Her mother's face flashed in her mind again. The hospital visits. The mounting bills. The constant worry about what would happen next. She had always taken care of Lena and her mother, always made the sacrifices, but this… this was different.
She had always lived her life on the edge of survival, constantly juggling the expectations of those around her, never truly owning her own fate.
But with this decision, with Anton's proposal, she would be stepping into a world where she could choose her own path.
It's not just about the money. It's not just about what I'm getting in return. It's about control.
And then, as if answering her unspoken question, her phone buzzed again. Anton's message sat there, demanding her attention.
She could feel the weight of it in her hands.
The moment the phone rang, Anton knew. He could feel it in his bones—this was the moment everything would change. It was as if everything leading up to this had been a series of small threads woven together, and now, in her hands, those threads were about to be pulled taut.
When he answered, her voice came through clear, but calm, almost distant.
"Anton," she said, the weight of his name hanging between them like a promise. "You want an answer?"
His fingers tightened around the phone, but he remained silent, waiting for her words. Every second felt like an eternity. The anticipation was unbearable.
And then she said it.
"I'm not interested in your deal. I'm saying no."
Anton didn't move for a second. The words hung in the air, sharp and unyielding. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but it wasn't this. The silence between them stretched, suffocating him.
No?
For a split second, Anton almost laughed, a bitter chuckle rising in his throat. She had said no. She was standing firm, defying him. And yet, in that moment, as he felt the sting of her rejection, he realized something strange.
Her no wasn't just a rejection of the deal. It was a challenge.
A challenge he hadn't anticipated.
A challenge that made something shift in him.
"Why?" His voice was low, almost dangerous. He leaned back against the desk, the sudden realization dawning on him that this wasn't going to be easy.
"I don't need this," she continued, her voice steady but firm. "I'm not going to play in your world. Not for money, not for anything."
There was a coldness in her words that stung more than he expected. He was used to people fearing him, people submitting to his will. But her? She wasn't afraid. Not in the way others were.
Nastya stood by her decision, even as the weight of it pressed down on her. She could hear the disbelief in his silence, and she knew that his control was slipping.
She felt a strange surge of power, one she didn't expect. For once, it wasn't her scrambling to find a way out. It wasn't her figuring out how to survive another day. She had made a choice. And it was hers.
"I'm not what you think I am," she added, the words falling heavy on the line. "I'm not your pawn, Anton. I won't be part of your games."
She wasn't sure where the strength to say that came from, but it was there. And she wasn't going to back down now.
Anton stood still, his phone pressed to his ear, listening to her words. They had caught him off guard. He was used to getting his way, used to bending people to his will. But her resistance—it stirred something deep inside him.
She's not afraid. She doesn't fear me.
But what did that mean for him? What did it mean for his world?
The silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity before he spoke again, his voice more measured now. "You're sure? This isn't a game to me, Nastya. I'm offering you everything."
"I don't want everything. I want my life."
Her words cut through him, sharp and final. And then she hung up.
Nastya sank onto her bed, the phone slipping from her hand as the adrenaline slowly began to drain from her system. Her heart was still racing, but there was something inside her—something deep and undeniable—that felt… right.
She had made the choice. It wasn't easy, and it wasn't without consequences. But it was hers. She had stood up to him, and for the first time in a long while, she didn't feel small. She felt… free.
But even as she tried to convince herself that she had done the right thing, something twisted in her gut. She knew what Anton was capable of. She knew he wouldn't let this go easily.
He would come back.
And when he did, she had no idea what kind of game he'd play next.
—————————-
As soon as the call ended, Anton stared at the phone in his hand. No. She had said no.
A flicker of anger surged through him, but beneath it, there was something else—a deep, unsettling feeling he couldn't name. He had never been told no before. It unsettled him, but more than that, it intrigued him.
He tossed his phone onto the desk, walking to the window once more.
She's not afraid of me. Not like everyone else.
Anton smiled darkly, a thought forming in his mind. If she thought this was over, she was wrong. He would make sure of that.
This was only the beginning. And as much as she wanted to walk away, Anton knew one thing—he wouldn't let her go that easily.