Walking through the garden beside Vanessa, my eyes were immediately drawn to a luxury car parked near the mansion's main entrance. It was a large, elegant sedan, with modern lines and dark paint, reflecting the exterior lights of the house like a perfectly polished mirror. Every detail of that vehicle seemed carefully designed to convey power and status: the wide wheels, the gleaming metal emblem on the front grille, the tinted windows that prevented anyone from seeing who was inside. The presence of that car screamed old money, influence, and authority. I didn't need to think much to understand it was probably the vehicle of the family that had come to arrange the marriage.
The garden itself was impressive. Perfectly trimmed hedges lined the stone pathways, discreet fountains murmured softly in the background, and subtle lighting created long shadows that shifted as we walked. Still, all that beauty felt artificial, almost suffocating. It wasn't a place meant for relaxation, but for impressing and intimidating. Walking through it brought me no sense of peace, only the growing realization that I was stepping into a game far bigger than I had imagined.
We entered through the back of the house. Vanessa walked ahead, determined, but I could sense the tension in her movements. Her steps were too firm, betraying her nervousness. She kept her shoulders straight and her head held high, as if preparing for an invisible battle. Avoiding the main entrance was clearly no coincidence. She wanted to prevent any kind of commotion upon arrival, maybe avoid curious looks or unwanted questions. Maybe she wanted to buy time. Maybe she simply wanted to delay the inevitable.
I didn't know exactly what Vanessa's plans were, and that uncertainty sent a wave of anxiety through my body. My heart was beating faster than normal, and an uncomfortable sensation settled in my stomach, as if something was deeply wrong. I was entering unfamiliar territory, dealing with dangerous people connected to the mafia, people for whom ordinary laws meant nothing. The only thing I could do was trust Vanessa, which wasn't exactly reassuring, considering the situation she had dragged me into without any prior explanation.
We walked through long corridors of the mansion. The environment was luxurious and cold at the same time, as if every element had been designed more to display wealth than to offer comfort. Expensive paintings decorated the walls, depicting European landscapes, historical scenes, and important figures, all heavy with symbolism and power. The marble floor reflected our steps, amplifying the sound of our walk and making the silence even more oppressive. There was no music, no side conversations, only the echo of our footsteps and the constant feeling of being watched.
Finally, Vanessa stopped in front of a large double door made of dark wood, adorned with discreet metal details. Without hesitation, she pushed it open.
The dining room revealed itself like a meticulously prepared stage. It was a vast hall, illuminated by elegant chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling, spreading a soft yet calculated light throughout the room. At the center, a massive table was arranged with a banquet fit for royalty. Refined dishes, cutlery aligned with almost military precision, crystal glasses placed symmetrically. The smell of the food was sophisticated, but it didn't spark hunger, only reinforced the sense of extreme formality.
Several men in black suits were positioned around the room. It wasn't hard to identify them as security, but not ordinary guards. Their gazes were alert, cold, trained. They observed every movement, every breath. It was clear they were there to ensure nothing went out of control, and if it did, to resolve it in the fastest and most definitive way possible.
At the table, a large, imposing man occupied the central seat. His posture was rigid, his presence completely dominating the room. Even seated, he radiated authority. Beside him, three other people were seated, all equally serious.
I immediately recognized one of them. Jonathan Albert. Owner of an influential transportation company. His face was well-known, frequently appearing at business events and in economic reports. There were countless rumors about him using the company as a front for drug trafficking, but nothing had ever been proven. Still, in that environment, surrounded by security and figures clearly tied to organized crime, the rumors felt far more plausible than I ever wanted to admit.
"Vanessa. We were expecting you."
The deep voice came from the man seated at the center. His heavy accent sent a chill down my spine. When his eyes fell on me, I felt as if I were being evaluated from head to toe. It wasn't curiosity, it was judgment. As if he were deciding, in a matter of seconds, whether I was a threat, a nuisance, or something disposable.
"I'm sorry, Father. I went to get Luke," Vanessa said, in a respectful yet firm tone.
"And who would this young man be?" Jonathan asked, leaning slightly forward, clearly interested.
"My boyfriend."
The smile Vanessa displayed at that moment was clean, confident, and provocative. The atmosphere in the room shifted immediately, almost palpably.
Her father shot a look of such intense disapproval that a vein bulged on his forehead. Jonathan maintained a stiff, clearly forced smile, while the woman beside him showed evident dissatisfaction. The silence that followed was heavy, almost suffocating.
"Mr. Artem, what is the meaning of this?" Jonathan asked, breaking the silence.
Artem took a deep breath, trying to contain the anger clearly simmering beneath the surface.
"It's just one of Vanessa's jokes."
"It's not," she shot back without hesitation. "Luke is my boyfriend. And if you want me to marry someone else, that person will have to win me through the Champions' Challenge."
The silence that followed was even heavier than before.
Artem brought his fingers to the side of his head, massaging it slowly, as if that could contain his irritation. I watched everything in silence, completely lost. Vanessa had never explained any of this to me. I felt like an unwilling spectator in a dangerous play.
Vanessa explained the ancient tradition with a calm that didn't match the weight of what she was saying. Her voice was firm, almost didactic, as if she were reciting something she had memorized long ago, even though internally she was in complete turmoil. According to that tradition, when two men disputed the right to be with a woman, there were no negotiations, contracts, or political agreements. There was only one thing: combat. A direct fight. One winner. And only he would have the right to remain by the woman's side.
Each family would choose its champion.
As she spoke, I could feel the discomfort growing around me. Jonathan clenched his fingers against the table, clearly irritated. Artem kept his gaze fixed on some undefined point, as if trying to ignore the absurd situation unfolding before him. The security guards remained motionless but alert, as if any wrong word could be the spark for something far worse.
"This is absurd," Jonathan protested, breaking the heavy silence that had formed. His voice carried indignation and contempt. "We are in modern times. This is nothing but barbarism."
Before anyone else could respond, a chair shifted slightly.
"I accept."
The voice came from Maxwell.
He stood just enough to assert himself without losing his confident posture. His tall, well-built body seemed made for that kind of environment—elegant, powerful, intimidating. The look he cast toward the table held no doubt, only absolute certainty, as if this were merely another natural step in his path.
"But with one condition," he continued, opening a restrained, calculated smile. "The champions will be me and her current boyfriend."
The air seemed to grow heavier.
Vanessa opened her mouth to protest immediately, but Maxwell was faster. He raised his hand in a simple gesture—almost polite, yet loaded with authority.
"You're the one who brought this tradition to the table," he said, now looking directly at her. "So you can't choose only the parts that suit you."
Vanessa pressed her lips together tightly.
Then she looked at me.
For the first time since I had met her, her eyes held no provocation, control, or irony. There was no arrogance or challenge. There was only a silent plea. A desperate appeal she would never voice aloud.
She was afraid.
I felt it deep in my chest.
"I accept," I said, feeling the weight of every word fall upon me like a sentence. "If it's for the woman I love."
The words echoed through the room.
Vanessa's eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised. For a brief moment, I saw something different cross her expression, guilt. Deep, almost painful guilt. She had never expected me to go that far. Never expected me to truly commit like that.
"We need a month," she said quickly, trying to regain control of the situation, trying to buy time. "One month to prepare everything."
"All right," Maxwell replied, with an overly confident, almost arrogant smile. "I don't think it will change the outcome, but I'll grant that time."
Jonathan sighed heavily, clearly dissatisfied with how things had unfolded. The woman beside him stood up without saying a word. Shortly afterward, the Albert family left the mansion.
The atmosphere had been completely shattered.
---
In the office, silence gave way to raised voices. Vanessa began arguing with her father in Russian, the words fast, sharp, loaded with repressed emotion. It was an intense conversation, filled with accusations, fear, and years of accumulated frustration.
I didn't understand the language, but I understood the tone perfectly.
"Vanessa," I interrupted, feeling an urgent need for answers. "I have a fight scheduled in a month… and I still have no idea why any of this is happening."
She stopped.
Took a deep breath.
That was when she began to speak.
---
(Vanessa's POV)
For the first time since I met him, I saw anger in Luke's eyes. It wasn't explosive, uncontrolled anger. It was worse. It was deep, silent, restrained, and completely justified. I had put him in an extremely dangerous situation without telling him the truth. I used him as a shield, as a piece in a game he didn't even know he was playing.
My father tried to interrupt me as soon as I began to speak, but I stared at him firmly. A look that accepted no opposition.
Luke deserved to know.
More than that, he had the right.
I took a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts, my memories, and above all, my guilt.
My father met my mother in Russia many years ago. At the time, he wasn't just a powerful man, he was one of the most influential members of the Russian mafia. Feared, respected, dangerous. A man everyone knew, but few dared to challenge.
My mother was the complete opposite.
She was part of the government of the country where we live today. A righteous, idealistic woman, bound by laws and principles. Two completely incompatible worlds.
And yet, they fell in love.
Love made my father commit the greatest madness of his life: abandoning everything. He left the mafia, something few manage to do alive. He never told me the details, but I know. I feel it. I know he had to commit atrocities to pay the price of freedom.
They migrated to this country, got married, and my mother secured a permanent visa for him thanks to her position in government. My father started a new life. He founded a vodka company, almost ironic, that grew, prospered, and became a national success.
The years passed. I was born. We had a life that, to anyone looking from the outside, seemed normal. My father buried his past as deeply as he could.
Until my mother died.
Without her, maintaining my father's visa became almost impossible. The system that once protected him now threatened him. Desperate, he transferred the company to my name and began searching for a solution.
That was when Jonathan Albert appeared.
Jonathan was the owner of a transportation company. Officially. In reality, he was a major cocaine trafficker looking to expand his business abroad. He knew exactly who my father had been, and he wanted to use him as a bridge to export drugs to Russia.
The marriage was the deal.
Since the company was in my name, Jonathan wanted me to marry his son so he could use the company as a money-laundering front. In return, he would guarantee a new visa for my father. Jonathan's brother was the current Minister of Migration.
It was a perfect trap.
I refused.
I didn't want my father to return to that world. I didn't want the company built out of love to be stained by crime.
Using Luke… was the only way I found to buy time.
I told everything. Every detail.
Luke listened in silence. My father did too. The weight of the story seemed to crush the room.
"Even if I win this fight, that doesn't solve everything," Luke finally commented.
He was right.
I knew that.
"I'll help you," he said then. "I think there's a way."
My heart nearly stopped.
He picked up his phone and called.
"Hello, Uncle. I need a favor."
At that moment, looking at him, I felt something I hadn't expected to feel that night.
Hope.
...
Note:
I tried to work more on writing this chapter. I'd like to know your opinion.