"6 hours?!"

"The supervisors have reported that the whole network has been infected."

"They had to postpone hundreds of matches."

"No, they're sure it was a virus. It had the rebels' logo."

"Did they arrest the ones who did it?"

Nate can't differentiate those voices from around and the ones in his head. It all sounds like a deafening cacophony with the news playing from various screens, the diverse prognostics from soldiers of all ranks, the voice trying to reason in his head, and the strong thumps of his heart, and before his head explodes, he quickly grabs his cup of coffee and escapes the too-full room.

The silence is most welcome as soon as he steps into the large hallway, though in every corner, the same questions are still echoing, questions to which he already has the answers. He's spent all day yesterday making sure to find out.

He knows the matchmaking application has been hacked on Saturday with a virus that has put it out of service for six hours, and most importantly, after a lot of research, he's almost sure that even if everyone is talking about it, no one knows the person who has done it. No one except Nate.

This mysterious 'criminal' has just left the unmistakable symbol of the rebels in the computer. The fusion of a big bold 'R' and a heart split imperfectly in the middle, Nate can picture it easily, but what appears mostly in his mind is the silhouette of the person who has done it.

Two days that she has joined the rebels, and she's already succeeded in something they've never been able to do before. He isn't surprised. It's the tornado Anastasia, and he can't help the hint of pride in his chest. She's as powerful as dangerous, but now, he has to protect her before it all blows away in the direction of 'hell'.

He takes a sip of the cold bitter drink to try to put his thoughts in order. Maybe the caffeine isn't a good idea, as all his nerves are already more than wide-awake, just like his eyes despite his sleepless night. But he uses the drink to busy his hands and distract himself, while the same steps of his 'attack plan' are replaying over and over in his head.

He's checked a lot of details since his idea has appeared, yet there are still too many uncertain points to even be able to put his guard down for a second. That's why his gaze lifts up to the plain gray ceiling in a silent prayer to have some help or luck, and then, gripping the pendant over his hammering heart, he gets ready for the most crucial battle of his life.

***

'We serve and protect', Anastasia doesn't even lift her head to see those words. She has passed by this large sculpted door so many times that she can almost hear the inscription like an empty echo that doesn't reach her anymore.

However, a crushing weight still falls on her shoulders as soon as she walks through the small side door. It isn't the first time she comes back to the headquarters of the armed forces since... since she has lost her heart, yet today, she has hoped to not have her hands shaking and chest shriveling like the other days before.

She has done so much to feel strong, trying to regain control of her life and fight to have the choice. But the hallways that are all the same are still trapping her. With each door she passes, memories of forbidden moments that have happened behind are assailing her, and she has no control over the unsteady pace of her heart as she weakly shields herself, looking down at her phone.

The building is too full today, and those dark gray uniforms and insignias at every turn are making her feet rush faster to escape the suffocating atmosphere. Yet even if it could resemble it, the need to flee spreading in her veins isn't out of fear. Well, seeing how she reaches the locker room in record time, maybe it is, but not the freezing dread one would expect after what she has done, and that's why as soon as she is inside the familiar room, she tries to distract herself with the various whispers and chatters, which are making the Monday morning rush louder than usual. 

Only one topic of conversation seems to come back: 'One of the biggest rebels attacks ever done' – it isn't Anastasia's words, but the ones from her colleagues standing a few lockers away, and it sends a surge of pride through her veins, although it isn't enough to lift off the weight on her shoulders; it doesn't even pull a smile on her tensed features.

She should feel happy, accomplished. She has passed her test, and it has been even better than what they have asked. She is now officially a rebel. She will fight for freedom. She has already started, and her fingers are pulling out her phone to re-read the text Hadi has sent her like a reminder of her accomplishments.

'Good job. Meet us tonight at the Photography room.'

Nevertheless, her other hand is still holding her compass pendant in a desperate grip, and the wave of pride is getting lost in the emptiness inside. What she has done might be amazing, and she is fighting for other people's happiness, yet hers is a lost cause.

She wants to move on, but it's like her body doesn't allow her. She is trapped inside this empty shell, and everything reminds her of Nathaniel. Just changing into her white uniform is pulling on all her aching muscles when the rough white fabric brings her back to their first encounter, and she is suffocating as much as in that steam room, except that this time, Nathaniel won't save her.

"Anastasia!"

Finally, it's a wide-eyed Vera who saves her from the stifling memories, though Anastasia is still struggling to find her breath as she realizes her colleague surely wants to gossip about the rebels' hack, and she doesn't have the strength to lie again.

"Vera, hi, sorry, I don't have time. I don't wanna be late for my shift." She forces a smile to not appear too rude, but the painful rictus doesn't get to form that it's turning into a frown with Vera's reply.

"That's precisely what it's about." Vera pulls her aside before she can protest, and the crease between Anastasia's eyebrows grows deeper as she hears Vera's unusual shushed tone. "I need you to replace me for the archives cleaning."

"What? Why? Isn't it the overly controlled task? I thought it was only for employees with lots of years of service, and isn't it forbidden to switch like that?" Anastasia is almost gasping now, as if it was the first time she was breaking the law...

It might sound hypocritical, yet what is tightening the grip of her ribcage is that it doesn't resemble Vera, neither do her anxious glances around that make Anastasia's hair stand more on end than it has during her forbidden 'mission' on Saturday.

"I know it is, but I really need you to do it."

"Is there a problem? Are you okay?" she asks low, her piercing gaze searching over the older woman's face.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, don't worry." The urgency in Vera's voice is hinting at the contrary, just like her gestures as she pushes a paper covered with typed words that must be instructions into Anastasia's hand "I just need this favor. I know it's a lot, but no one will know, and I'll owe you."

"Of course, I'd love to help."

Even if she doesn't know her mom's friend very well, from what she has heard and she has got to learn in the last months, it takes a lot of seriousness for Vera's smile and chatty nature to disappear, and in front of her desperate puppy expression, she has no hesitation, well, except one... "But isn't it supervised? I doubt they would accept it."

"About this..." Vera's small wince makes Anastasia's stomach drop along with her gaze, and they both fall on the paper in her hand.

'Captain Johnson', these are the first words she reads, and the only ones, as it all becomes a blur.

"Non..." All the strength she has fought to build crumbles down with just a name, a name that is imprinted in all her cells, a name that is still marking every broken shred of her heart, and her legs are about to give out with just that name.

She is surprised that she doesn't drop the piece of paper, but instead, her hands are gripping it tighter.

"No, no." She shakes her head frantically as if it would help her keep the last string of control slipping out of her fingers, control of her life, of her heart, and of her tears threatening to all burst out. "I'm sorry. I can't."

She can break into the matchmaking service; she can set a huge bug in the application and help 'one of the biggest rebels' attacks'. But she doesn't have the strength to face the man who has wrecked her heart. The weak hope thumping against her pendant at the thought that he wants to see her is already too dangerous for her.

She wants to see him too; she needs it. Yet her heart won't handle another crash of hope.

"Listen." Vera wraps her hands around one of Anastasia's fists, probably noticing the shakes of the paper in her grip. "I don't know this man, and what he has to do with you. But he's offered a lot of money for you to replace me."

Money, of course, she swallows the sour lump in her throat, along with her throbbing heart. "How much?"

"A lot. The advance he gave me will already pay for Ingrid's first surgery." Vera looks down in shame, even if she shouldn't be the one ashamed here.

Anastasia has heard her talk so many times about the health cost for her children, especially her daughter's surgery, and the worry that is filling her eyes a little bit more every time is weighing on Anastasia's tight chest. Between this, the growing lump in her throat, and her thundering heart, her breath is fully annihilated as she says,

"Okay, I'll do it."

"You will? Thank you so much!" Vera pulls her into a hug, the warmth she is putting in the simple gesture showing how important it is for her, and Anastasia uses it as a motivation.

"It's just a day of cleaning like any other. I can do it." It is mostly herself, Anastasia is trying to convince, but Vera's sorry smile isn't helping.

"It's three days."

"Three days..." Three days, 21 hours, 1,260 minutes, 75,600 seconds, and an infinity of opportunities to crash again. Her head is already spinning.

"All the instructions for the cleaning are on that paper." Vera points to the sheet now crumpled in Anastasia's hand, adding another item in her trembling fists. "Oh, and he asked for you to wear this."

A simple gray beanie, which Anastasia is eyeing more carefully than if it was a dangerous bomb. "Why?"

"I don't know... I don't know anything. He paid me to not ask or say too much..." Vera offers her a small shrug, glancing at the beanie before focusing her worried gaze on Anastasia. "But if you're not okay with it, if he's–"

"There's nothing to worry about," Anastasia interrupts, realizing what Vera can have imagined with all this mystery and Anastasia's trembling hands. But the only one she fears is herself around Nathaniel. "It's just a cleaning assignment, and everything is okay as long as no one knows it."

"I know, I'm risking more than my job on that." Vera sighs, and in her eyes, Anastasia can glimpse a battle between reason and matters of the heart and love. Whether it is for family or other things, she is too well acquainted with this dilemma.

"No one will know," she assures her, taking the beanie and paper with as much determination as she can muster.

She only does this for Vera and her children, she reasons as she reads the instructions as professionally as possible. Yet her heart is still jumping a little too high, ready to run and find its missing part, and her fingers keep tracing the needles of her compass pendant as her thoughts are already wandering, leaving the rules of the paper behind.

Why does Nathaniel do this? He's going through all of this trouble and taking a lot of risks, when he could see her directly, call her – she isn't sure she would answer, but she has checked her phone enough to know he hasn't tried. It is dangerous and bold, yet incredibly cowardly, just like he always does.

Why does he even want to see her? He has made it clear that they can never be. He has pushed her away, and now, he is luring her back to him. No matter how she is looking at it in search of a reason, or just some sense, she can't find any, and her mind is just spinning with no clue or direction. She shouldn't even try to understand him; she will never. He is always full of surprises.

She freezes on that thought, catching herself just before falling again. No, she can't go down that way again. His last surprise has left her torn apart, and the raw pain in her chest is enough to remind her why she has to protect herself.

He wants to see her? Fine, he will see her, whatever his reason is. But that's all. She adds this instruction to the long list she has to retain, quickly folding the crumpled and almost ripped paper and putting it in her pocket as she gets ready.

Sooner than she would like, she is following the indicated directions, finding her way to an underground floor for the first time, and with each step through the empty and quiet hallway, her heart is running faster, threatening to escape her ribcage. It does as soon as she reaches the final hallway, and she catches sight of the familiar silhouette on the other side, her heart, or at least the last wrecked bit of it, jumping there.

Her feet aren't as assured though, and in spite of the need to flee to Nathaniel's warm arms pumping through her veins, the thought of facing the cold Captain Johnson is slowing down her steps. If she could, she would have already run away in fact, but she has no choice, except one...

There is still one thing she has control of: her attitude. She can either lash out at him and tell him everything that is in her heart – in the hole where her heart has been, more exactly – or she can offer him the treatment he has asked for. She has pondered enough through the whole walk down here to take the safest decision as she treads the few last meters separating her from his strong back, holding her breath.

She is so slow and careful that Nate barely hears the quiet steps and the squeaks of the cart rolling on the floor over the loud pounding of his heart, but it's enough to stir his nerve endings more than if he was on a battlefield.

'Fight for it', he glances one last time at the polaroid to remind himself that he can't back down, and with a shallow intake of air, which doesn't reach his lungs, he turns around, his eyes instantly settling on her petite silhouette and his lips parting to let out a breath that has been held for too long, since the last time he's been with her.

She is exactly the same Anastasia, angelic and breathtaking. He doesn't know what he's expected, that she would walk with a large R tattooed on her pale skin? No, she's still wrapped in her white uniform, with only a touch of gray contrasting with her golden locks, and most importantly, she is here.

"Bonjour," he breathes out, his features relaxing for the first time in days to form the hint of a smile, though it tumbles down with his stomach as soon as she lifts up a judgemental eyebrow, and her silence falls on him like a ton of bricks, annihilating all his arguments. 

"I..." What to even say? He wishes he could let her hear the strong thumps of his heart.

The words he's prepared don't sound right, and like the great lawyer she isn't anymore, she counteracts them before they're even out.

"Spare me your sugarcoated words. You 'asked' me to come here. I'm here to do my work, but you can keep whatever twisted plan you have to get in my pants. It's safer, to avoid any damage, Captain Johnson."

Knockout win, the last time he's seen her comes back like a punch in his face through her seething words and burning gaze. The same fire is still there, maybe even wilder, and if looks could kill, he would be in ashes on the floor right now. Although what suffocates him is the broken crack he glimpses in her eyes, the dark circles under, and the tension from her delicate fingers to her shoulders and tender jaw.

The worst pain is to see her suffering, and it's torture when he's the one who has caused it.

"Can we start?" She snaps him back to reality, reminding him there are more rounds to this fight.

"Ana, can I just explain, please?"

She puts her headphones on in reply, and as crazy as it sounds, in this instant, he knows he has to fight harder than ever. Of course, his main motivation is her safety and happiness, but there is also no way he can let this stubborn woman go. The more he sees her and how frustrating she can be, the more he's madly in love with her. All he wants is to soothe the deep crease between her eyebrows, and he will do everything to be worthy of her smile.

But first, her security...

His hand naturally reaches for her golden locks as she's doing her best to ignore him, though no sooner have his fingers brushed a strand off her shoulder than she is jumping away. He just has time to feel the spark from their skins touching, which is even more intense than before, and glimpse the shiny metal of her chain to make his heart leap in hope. Yet it crashes lower than before when he catches the fragile look of a deer caught in headlights in her wide eyes.

He doesn't want to push her into anything, and even less make her feel like a prey. Now, he's the one trembling like a deer, his hands hanging in the air, while she's putting a strong facade again to hide the weakness in her eyes, the same way she's covering her necklace with her white collar.

"Can you put your hair inside the beanie?" He gestures to her hair, as he isn't sure she can hear him, but this time, he's careful to not get too close, and the 'why' etching in her frown lets him know she has understood.

"Please, just hide your hair in and keep your head down... please."

She must even perceive the desperation in his voice over her headphones, or at least see it in his eyes as she follows his gaze to the security camera, because she complies with his demand with a sigh and no more argument.

"Thank you," he whispers as if she had just offered him the most precious gift, and she has indeed in a way: her safety. It's been his priority since their first encounter, and it still is as she starts to push the cart. "Let me do it–"

"No, you're the captain, and I'm just the cleaning lady. Your job is to supervise me, while I do my task, nothing else. We can't change the rules." She stops him and his hands before he can get too comfortable, her grip tightening on the cart handle, almost as much as the one she has figuratively over his ribcage.

It's like each time he gets up with a little bit of hope, she blows him harder, and his breath is knocked out when he turns to the reinforced door, though maybe it's the nerves and the stakes weighing on him.

That's why he doesn't try to fight her and focuses on opening the door, hoping that entering this room will change everything she's just reminded him.

So... what is waiting behind that door? 😏 And now, do you have an idea what Nate's plan can be? Do you think he's just trying to 'get in her pants'?

Let me know in the comments what you think, and if you liked this chapter, don't forget to vote ⭐!

Also, I'm so excited to announce that LOVE BUG is currently featured in the official Wattpad Undiscovered's romance reading list!! This is my first feature in an official Wattpad reading list and this is huge!! 🤩 I think this is the best motivation to keep working and writing, and it's a reminder to never give up because it got refused at first, and I kept learning and editing, and now here it is!! Never give up, my little rays of sunshine 😉❤ And also, thank you for your constant support that helps me keep going every day 😘❤🌞 YOU'RE THE BEST!!!!

PS: I just wanted to say that if any of you (graphic designers, artists...) want to design the Rebels' logo, I'll gladly accept your propositions!! Because, yes, it looks like Ana is now officially a rebel, and a powerful one, on top! 😈