Page 81 of Savage Reins
One of the track officials speaks up. "Sir, what about the betting implications? Thousands of people wagered based on the published numbers." Corsi scowls at him and he slinks back against the wall in silence, only to be startled when the door beside him bursts open.
A man wearing an official looking badge around his neck walks in and whispers something in Corsi's ear.Batyaclamps a hand on my shoulder and Renat's eyes darken as he watches the interchange. Something is happening, but I can't tell if it's good or bad.
When the second official leaves the room, shutting the door behind himself, Mr. Corsi speaks again. "Miss Petrova, the situation has been… addressed."
"What does that mean?" I ask, flicking a glance at Renat, whose expression shifts to surprise.
"Mr. Vetrov has convinced his associate that pursuing this matter further would not be in anyone's best interest. The Karpin family has agreed to accept the racing commission's official decision, whatever that may be." Corsi sounds convinced, but Renat looks concerned, maybe annoyed.
My knees nearly buckle. "They're leaving?"
"They're leaving. But understand—this comes with conditions. You will cooperate fully with the commission's investigation. You will accept whatever penalties are levied. And you will never engage in this type of deception again." His hand splays across his desk and I breathe a sigh of relief. Does this mean no jail time?
"I understand… But Rusalka's victory stands?"
Corsi's smile is thin but genuine. "The horse that crossed the finish line first will be declared the winner regardless of number. The betting implications will be sorted out separately."
It feels like a breath of fresh air. I can finally breathe again. Rusalka won. Officially, permanently, without question. The ranch is safe.Batyais safe. The debt is settled.
"Can I see her?" I ask. "Can I see Rusalka?"
"Your horse is being cooled down in the winner's circle area. You can collect her there."
I stand on shaking legs. Every muscle in my body feels loose, unsteady. The adrenaline that carried me through the confrontation is fading, leaving exhaustion and relief in its wake.
"Thank you," I tell Corsi. "For everything."
"Don't thank me yet. The commission's investigation will be thorough. This isn't over."
But asBatyaand I walk toward the winner's circle, I know the important part is finished. Rusalka proved herself. Theranch survives. Whatever consequences follow, we'll face them together.
The crowd around the winner's circle has thinned, but photographers still snap pictures of Rusalka as she poses with her jockey. Her coat gleams in the afternoon light, every muscle defined beneath her glossy chestnut fur. She looks every inch the champion she proved herself to be.
"There's my girl," I whisper, and her ears prick forward at my voice.
The handlers lead her toward me, and I run my hands along her neck, feeling the slight tremor of exhaustion in her muscles. She's tired but proud, head held high despite the ordeal.
"You did it," I tell her. "You showed them all."
Movement in my peripheral vision catches my attention. Across the staging area, Renat stands with Vadim near the parking lot. Their conversation appears heated but controlled. As I watch, Vadim claps Renat on the shoulder—not the gesture of an enemy, but of a family member reaching an understanding.
Then Vadim turns and walks away, flanked by two other men in expensive suits. They climb into a black sedan and drive off without looking back.
Renat remains by the fence, his eyes finding mine across the distance. Even from here, I can see the tension radiating from his shoulders, the careful way he holds himself. But he's alone now. No longer caught between loyalty and conscience.
He starts walking toward me.
Every step he takes sends electricity through my chest. This man fought for me. Put his life on the line to protect mine. Chose me over the family that raised him, the obligations that defined him, the safe path that would have kept him alive.
"Mira." His voice is rough when he reaches me, the single word carrying weight I can't fully process.
"Is it over?" I ask.
"The immediate threat is finished. Vadim talked the Karpins down. They'll be back, but hopefully, they will come only for the horse." He doesn’t look sure, and that puts me on edge.
"And you?"
Something shifts in his expression. "I made my choice back in that shed. There's no going back from that."
