48. Vendetta Claimed

Bastien

The room falls silent, the aftermath of the chaos settling like a heavy cloak around us. I stare at my hands, Ivan Popov’s blood a stark contrast against my skin, a vivid reminder of the violence that just unfolded. My breath comes out in ragged gasps, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins.

Anya comes to my side, her eyes wide. She reaches out, gently touching my arm, grounding me in the moment. “Bastien, are you okay?” Her voice is a soft whisper, almost lost in the magnitude of what’s just occurred.

I nod, unable to find my voice. The reality of what I’ve done, what we’ve done, is overwhelming. Ivan Popov, the man who cast a dark shadow over my life, is gone, eliminated by my own hands.

I’ve dreamt of this day since Isla was brought to me in pieces. I swore vengeance in her name, and yet even with him lying dead at my feet, I feel nothing. Just an emptiness, because he reduced me to what he is.

Dmitry steps forward, his expression unreadable. “It’s done,” he says, s