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Valencia Amara Nightingale III was trapped—engaged to a powerful, ruthless prime minister with a hidden agenda, forced to endure his cruelty for five long years. A princess in name only, she had no power, no choices, just a future of helpless submission. Until the day she was murdered. But as fate would have it, death wasn’t the end for Valencia. In the same dark forest, at the exact same time, another life was lost—Anastasiya Constantine. A fighter, An agent , a woman forged in the harshest streets, Anastasiya was known for her fiery spirit and sharp mind. The world thought she was out of control, a lost cause, but her death was the catalyst for something unimaginable. God, it seemed, had other plans. Anastasiya is resurrected in Valencia’s body— now a young royal with the face of innocence, but the heart of a warrior. Gone is the meek, kind princess. In her place is a woman driven by vengeance and a hunger for power. With nothing to lose and everything to gain, Anastasiya begins her quest for revenge—against the man who destroyed Valencia’s life, and against the corrupt world that betrayed her. Her ultimate target? Aslanov Moroz Vladislav, the most powerful businessman in the world. Seduction, submission, and a ruthless drive for revenge will lead her to sell her soul to him, use his empire and influence to take control of a life that is no longer hers by choice—but will be by force. One woman. Two lives. And a debt forged in blood. Vengeance? Lol. She was out for Retribution.
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Retribution 114. Clever Little Victory.
Vladislav MorozI came awake slowly, the way a man surfaces from deep water—lungs burning, limbs heavy, every heartbeat sluggish and uncertain.The first thing I felt was pain. Not the sharp, screaming kind from the cellar; this was duller, deeper, a constant throb that lived under every bandage and in every broken rib. It told me I was still alive. I hated it for a second, then decided I could live with it.The second thing I felt was warmth.Valencia was curled against my right side, careful even in sleep, her head on my shoulder, one hand resting so lightly over the gauze on my chest that I could barely feel the weight. Her breathing was slow, steady. Her lashes were still damp. She had cried herself out beside me.I couldn’t move much. My arms were lead, my back a furnace, my ribs a cage of knives. But I turned my head—just enough—and looked at her.God, she was beautiful.Even with tear tracks cutting through the blood on her cheeks. Even with her hair tangled and wild. Even ex
Last Updated : 2025-11-30Retribution 113. Battlefield Casualty
Valencia NightingaleThe drive home was silent except for the soft rasp of Vladislav’s breathing against my neck and the occasional click of the indicator when Anatoly changed lanes. I didn’t let go of him once. I couldn’t. My arms were locked around his shoulders, one hand cradling the back of his head, fingers threaded through his blood-crusted hair like I could physically hold the pieces of him together.He hadn’t spoken since that single cracked whisper of my name. He didn’t need to. Every tremor that ran through him said enough.When the Mercedes finally rolled into the underground garage of the Mayfair penthouse, the automatic lights flickered on, harsh and white. Anatoly killed the engine but didn’t move to get out. He just looked at us in the rear-view mirror for a long second, something ancient and exhausted in his eyes, then nodded once and climbed out to open Vladislav’s door.I helped him out. He tried to stand on his own and almost went down. His legs simply refused. Betw
Last Updated : 2025-11-30Retribution 112. Always.
Valencia NightingaleEvery head in the hall, including mine, snapped toward the sound. Cameras clicked like light switches. For one suspended heartbeat the only noise was the low hum of the air-conditioning.My breath caught in my throat, as I wondered who exactly that was. My shoulders sagged the moment I set my eyes on Anatoly's towering figure. His face is dead straight and serious as he walks forward.His cheek was bruised, probably from the scuffle at the airport and I wondered just how fast he must have been to get to the Parliament to grant bail for Vladislav and come back to still catch up with me.Or was he not able to get him granted bailIn his left hand was a single sheet of heavy cream paper bearing the gold-embossed crest of the United Kingdom.The crowd parted before him the way water parts for a shark.I stood frozen at the bacj row, lungs still burning from the sprint, Malcolm's smug smile faltered for the first time. He half-rose from his seat, paddle still clutc
Last Updated : 2025-11-30Retribution 111. A Wild Goose Chase
Valencia NightingaleThe wheels touched down on the runway with a shuddering thump, the kind that always made my stomach dip even though I’d been on dozens of flights in my life. The plane tilted, slowed, rattled, then finally steadied as it rolled toward the terminal. I pressed my forehead lightly to the window. London was grey, iron-cold, washed in that particular shade of winter light that made the whole city look like a steel engraving. Sleek airport buildings glowed with glassy reflections. Wet asphalt shone like black ice.We were home and we were already running out of time.Passengers around us unbuckled, stood up, stretched stiff limbs. Anatoly and I stayed seated for a few seconds longer, both of us scanning the aisle, the windows, the attendants. Habit. Instinct. Survival. Nothing looked wrong, but after Russia, after Malcolm’s stunt at the police station, after the perfect ease of retrieving files that should have taken weeks, it was impossible to trust quiet.Anatoly rose
Last Updated : 2025-11-30Retribution 5. A Crack in Ice
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 fo
Retribution 4.Swallowed By Ice.
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 file
Retribution 3.At the Face of Death
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
Retribution 2. Agent Fourteen's Betrayal
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? H
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