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The bass pounds in time with my heartbeat as Anoushka and I chat over cocktails. The atmosphere is electric, a symphony of laughter and clinking glasses that fills my senses. I feel alive, free. Life’s finally falling into place, it feels.

"Another round?" Anoushka asks, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “To celebrate your brothers and Dima finally coming around to friendly terms?”

"Sure, why not?" I reply, feeling a rush of warmth from the alcohol and camaraderie. "We deserve a little fun, right?"

Our drinks arrive, and Anoushka is now regaling me with tales of her latest shopping spree when a stout man catches my eye.

Even before I see him, I know. With a racing heart, I crane my neck just a little, fearful that he’d see me.

Marv.

He's sitting in a dimly lit booth, one arm draped over the shoulders of a statuesque blonde who can't be more than twenty. The predatory gleam in his eyes sends a chill down my spine, memories of that night flooding back unbidden.

I grip the stem of my martini glass, knuckles turning white. How dare he. Hasn't he taken enough from me already? From the nervous way the girl keeps checking her watch, it's clear his attention is unwanted. She's looking for an escape, but he holds her in place with a possessive hand.

Rage bubbles up inside me, hot and acrid. I shouldn't have come out tonight. I'm not ready to face my demons, not when they wear the face of the man who nearly ruined me and then threatened to have me sold to a brothel, for god’s sake.

"Hey," Anoushka's voice cuts through my thoughts, her hand gently squeezing my arm. "What's going on? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I glance at her, realizing that my internal turmoil must be written all over my face. Swallowing hard and seeing no reason to lie now, with the entire family aware of my partying ways thanks to the video that was circulated, I lean closer to her, lowering my voice. "Anoushka, I need to tell you something. You remember those videos of me partying around Philadelphia?”

“Uh-huh,” she nods curiously.

“Well, back then, a guy called Marv tried to blackmail me. One night, we met at a club, and he convinced me to drink too much. We went back to his place, and nothing really happened, but he took some photos of me in mildly compromising positions and tried to blackmail me. Don’t worry—” I stop her when I see her eyes widen. “Dima knows and helped me out of that mess. Anyway, he’s here tonight.”

Her eyes widen in shock, and she wraps her arm around my shoulders protectively. "Lara, I'm so sorry. I had no idea. Where is he?"

I look over at Marv again. Her eyes follow mine and narrow in rage.

I watch as Marv leans in closer to the woman, an all-too-familiar predatory grin plastered on his face as he pours her another drink. She shakes her head, but he then takes a shot glass and pours the shot down her throat forcefully, laughing like it was only a joke. It sickens me to see him exhibit the same behavior I had to endure during our own encounter. I clench my fists, anger bubbling up inside of me. How can he continue to prey on innocent women like this?

"Let's just keep an eye on them," I suggest, trying to rein in my emotions.

"Agreed," Anoushka says, her voice laced with concern and protectiveness on behalf of the girl.

Marv whispers something into the woman's ear, and I catch a glimpse of her wide-eyed reaction. I can't ignore the discomfort she's experiencing, and I know I have to do something to help her.

“God,” I say, unable to just watch as an innocent bystander. “We have to do something.”

Anoushka's grip on my arm tightens. "Lara, listen to me. We're not on our territory here. If you confront Marv, who knows how he might retaliate? Or who he has watching his back?"

Her words make sense, but my blood is boiling. Every predatory glance and smirk from Marv stokes the flames higher. I can't stand by while he victimizes another woman.

“So what?” I ask, mildly angry. “Do we just sit by and do nothing?”

"Of course not," Anoushka agrees, her face hardening with determination. "But we need to be smart about this. We can't just go barging in without a plan. Besides, intervening could make things worse."

"Right," I nod, taking a deep breath to steady myself, looking around, trying to think of a plan.

My eyes remain fixed on Marv as he leans in closer to the woman, his arm slithering around her waist like a snake coiling around its prey.

As we brainstorm ideas, I struggle to keep my focus on our conversation. Every instinct screams at me to rush over there and confront Marv—consequences be damned. But Anoushka's steady presence anchors me, reminding me that two heads are better than one, especially when dealing with someone as slippery as Marv.

"Maybe we could distract him somehow," Anoushka suggests, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Give her a chance to slip away."

And suddenly, an idea forms in my mind.

“I know what we need to do,” I say excitedly, grabbing my purse. I pull out wads of cash and ask Anoushka to give me what she has. When we have a sufficient amount, I wave down the waiter with a casual expression. Anoushka watches me curiously, her gaze following the waiter as he approaches our table.

"Can I help you with something, ladies?" the waiter asks, a professional smile plastered on his face.

"Actually, yes," I say, leaning in closer and lowering my voice. "There's a woman sitting at that table over there," I glance discreetly toward Marv's direction, "and she seems to be in some trouble."

The waiter follows my gaze and nods subtly, understanding dawning in his eyes.

I slip the wad of cash in his hand, and he pockets it discreetly. “Now listen,” I tell him. “I need you to get her away from him without causing a scene and without attracting attention. Can you do that? Put her in a cab, and make sure the cab takes her right home. If she’s not interested, tell her I know that man, and he’s…predatory."

"Of course," he replies, eyes widening with shock. His gaze flickers toward Marv's table one more time before he excuses himself, weaving through the crowd with a newfound sense of urgency.

Anoushka is studying me when I face her again. "Did you just do what I think you did?" she asks wryly.

I smile. "His kind of behavior can't be tolerated. Not in my city."

"You're going to get into trouble one of these days," she says, but there's pride in her tone. Pride and understanding. Because Anoushka knows, just as I do, that sometimes bad men need to be stopped, no matter what.

We watch as the waiter approaches the woman, feigning surprise and talking really loudly like they're old friends who haven't seen each other in years. "Oh my God, is that really you, Jessica?" he exclaims, pulling her into a hug. Her confusion is evident in the way she stiffens up, but then the waiter leans in and whispers something into her ear.

"Jessica," or whatever her real name might be, relaxes a fraction, her eyes darting toward me and Anoushka before flickering back to the waiter. She nods, and together, they make a quick exit from the bar, leaving Marv scowling and bewildered in their wake.

I feel my heart rate begin to slow down, the knot in my chest loosening as I realize that we've succeeded in getting her out of harm's way. Anoushka grins at me, elated by our small victory, and I can't help but smile back.

"Good job," she says, raising her glass in a toast. "To protecting each other, no matter the cost."

I clink my glass against hers. “To girls and looking out for another.”

***

Later that night, after I get home, I make my way to Dima's study. He's sitting behind the heavy oak desk, papers strewn about as he pores over documents. When I enter, he looks up, and the stern set of his mouth softens into a smile.

"Lara," he greets me, leaning back in his chair. "How was your night out with Anoushka?"

I close the door behind me and move to stand before his desk. "It was good, but this is about Marv."

Dima's expression darkens at the mention of the name. "What has he done now?"

"The same as always," I say bitterly. "Preying on vulnerable women. I saw him tonight at the bar Anoushka and I went to. He was harassing a woman and would have done far worse if I hadn't intervened." I meet Dima's gaze steadily. "We have to do something about him, Dima. We can't let this continue."

Dima sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You know I agree, Solnishko . But Marv won’t bother us anymore, and—"

"But he will bother other women," I interrupt.

"I don't want you putting yourself in harm's way," Dima says, his tone brooking no argument. “I’ll handle it, alright?” But I won't back down so easily. Not on this.

“No,” I shake my head. “This time, a conversation with Marv is not what I ask, Dima. You do realize that your threats would only take him underground, or to a different state, but he would continue what he does, don’t you? We need a full operation with a ploy that’ll ensure he never dares to repeat this little stunt of his.”

“Alright,” Dima says gently, trying to appease me. “Tell me what you have in mind, and I’ll ensure I handle it.”

“Stop,” I shake my head. “I will no longer sit on the sidelines on this matter, Dima. This is my fight, too. I won't sit by while he victimizes more women. I want to help you bring him down, Dima. For me, if nothing else. And I want the pleasure of serving him sweet justice."

His eyes search mine, and I can see the internal battle he's fighting. He studies my face for a moment, weighing his options. "You're braver than anyone I've ever known," he finally admits, his voice thick with admiration. "And I’d be a damned fool to deny you this wish. Tell me, what’s the plan?"