Vengeance Of The Heart: The Path Of Revenge.

The world felt different as Anya awoke in a dimly lit room, the air thick with unfamiliar scents. She could still feel the sting of smoke in her lungs, but the worst of it had passed. Slowly, she opened her eyes, her surroundings coming into focus. It was a luxurious room, the kind she'd only seen in magazines—dark, polished wood floors, intricate tapestries on the walls, and heavy velvet curtains that blocked the daylight.

She sat up, her body sore and stiff. The memory of the night before hit her like a wave, drowning her with grief and fear. Her parents—gone. Her home—destroyed.

A man stood by the window, his back to her. He was tall, his silhouette imposing yet graceful, dressed in an immaculate black suit. The silver wolf pendant she had seen the night of the attack hung from a chain around his neck.

"You're awake," he said, his voice low and smooth, with a slight Russian accent.

Anya didn't speak at first, her throat dry and tight. She swallowed hard. "Who are you?" she finally managed.

The man turned to face her. His features were sharp and clean-cut, with dark hair that framed his face. His eyes were an intense, piercing green. He studied her for a moment, as if measuring her every thought.

"Orlov," he said simply, offering her a small, almost imperceptible smile. "Madden Orlov."

Anya's mind raced. Orlov. The name was unfamiliar, but something about the man felt dangerous. His presence was commanding, like the storm before the lightning.

"You saved me," Anya said quietly, the gratitude and suspicion battling inside her.

"Yes," Madden replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But I didn't save you out of kindness." He crossed the room to sit beside her. "You've been chosen, Anya. Chosen to take part in something far larger than you could ever understand."

Her heart skipped a beat. "What are you talking about?"

Madden leaned forward, his gaze locking onto hers. "I'm a part of the Dragon Clan. We are a group that handles... things. Things that are better left unsaid. But you, Anya, you have something that we need."

Anya frowned, confusion flooding her. "What could I possibly have that you want?"

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, worn photograph. He handed it to her, and Anya took it without thinking.

The photo was of her father—Viktor Mikhailov—standing proudly next to another man she didn't recognize. The man was older, with sharp features and a cold expression.

"This is Mr. Ostov," Madden said, his voice darkening. "He's the leader of the Dragon Clan. Your father was a part of this organization. A powerful part. But now he's dead, and we need you to fill his role."

Anya's hand trembled as she held the photograph. Her father's connection to such a dangerous world was the last thing she ever expected. "No," she whispered. "I won't—"

"You don't have a choice, Anya," Madden interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. "You're the only one left. The only one who can carry on his legacy. The Dragon Clan doesn't forget, and they don't forgive. If you want to survive, you'll have to become part of it."

Anya's chest tightened. "I'm just a girl."

"Not anymore," Madden said quietly. He leaned back, watching her closely. "You have the heart of a warrior, Anya. You just don't know it yet."

For the first time, Anya looked into his eyes and saw something deeper than danger—a flicker of something like understanding, maybe even empathy.

"You'll train," he continued. "You'll learn how to fight, how to lead, and how to make your enemies pay. Because, believe me, you will want vengeance. The ones who killed your family are still out there. And you, Anya Mikhailova, are going to make them pay."

The room was silent for a long moment. Anya could feel the weight of his words pressing down on her, suffocating her with the realization that her life, as she had known it, was over.

But amidst the shock and grief, a spark began to ignite within her. Vengeance. The promise of it. It was all she had left.

"I'll do it," she said, her voice barely a whisper, but with a resolve that surprised even herself.

Madden's lips curled into a faint smile. "Good. Welcome to the Dragon Clan, Anya. Your training begins now.