Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
Viktor
S omething was definitely wrong.
Viktor could feel it as easily as he breathed. He’d been in the game long enough to recognize when things were amiss, and right now, they were. He held a file filled with intel reports, letting out a sound that reverberated in the quiet space. He couldn’t pinpoint the source of his unease, but the burning sensation in his gut wouldn’t go away.
There were subtle signs—or maybe they weren’t so subtle. As his fingers traced the documents riddled with faulty statements and fabricated details, he realized the reason he felt as though the world was crashing down around him was because of Andrei. He trusted the man, but there were limits to loyalty. He’d seen that firsthand.
The plans for his move against Alexei weren’t lining up. The details, the timing—none of it made sense. His thoughts drifted back to the previous night when Andrei had handed him the new set of intel. Viktor had always relied on him, trusted him implicitly. Andrei had the access and knowledge of every player in this game. No one else in his circle had that kind of insight.
Yet here was the proof.
Viktor's blood roared as he read the lines again, his eyes narrowing. The report was riddled with errors, mismatched information, even faulty assumptions. Andrei was the only one with access to this level of intelligence. So how could the details be so wrong?
His gut churned. Was it sabotage? The thought gnawed at him, hard to entertain. He didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want to think that the one man he’d trusted most in his life was now actively undermining him. But the signs were there.
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, a deep sigh escaped him. It wasn’t just that the intel was wrong; it was the nagging suspicion that something had shifted within his circle. A small fracture had begun to form, and Andrei, with his increasingly erratic behavior, was the only one Viktor could pinpoint.
It didn’t make sense, and Viktor hated the uncertainty gnawing at him. He couldn’t confront Andrei yet—not until he was sure. But the seed of doubt had been planted. His mind raced with scenarios, trying to piece together the subtle moments he’d missed, the things Andrei had said, the actions he’d taken that hadn’t sat right with him.
Viktor was used to being at the helm of affairs, to knowing every move he and those around him made. But now, for the first time in years, it felt like everything was slipping through his fingers. The unthinkable was possible: someone within his inner circle was betraying him.
The thought sent a chill through him, but he couldn’t let it consume him. Not yet. Not until he knew for sure.
Frustration bubbled inside him as he slammed the report down onto the desk. He couldn’t afford this—not now, not with Alexei’s looming threat. But there it was—this gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, the unease he couldn’t shake.
He needed answers. Fast.
Just then, the door creaked open, and Kat’s head popped in first. She wore a smile that seemed rehearsed, but he could see in her eyes that she was genuinely happy to be back. How long had it been since they’d shared the same space? Viktor couldn’t remember, but he pushed away from his chair like a crazed man, reaching out for her.
“Kat! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were coming. Why didn’t anyone come to tell me?”
She wrapped her arms around him, basking in his warmth. “I bribed them all with glazed doughnuts. They love me.”
“Glazed doughnuts?” Viktor chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. “I would think they’d be able to resist that temptation.”
“Don’t be coy, brother.” She rolled her eyes. “No one is that evolved.”
He let her go and stumbled back to sit on the edge of his desk, discarding the file along with the gnawing feeling of betrayal that had taken root. He focused on his sister. “You know it isn’t safe for you to be back right now, Kat.”
She sat down in one of the empty chairs and crossed her legs. “You don’t have to tell me. I know about the dangers, brother, but I needed to see you. I can’t imagine you going through all of this alone.”
But he wasn’t really alone, was he? He had his men. Yet, he didn’t think he could trust anyone anymore. There was Sofia, right?
Maybe not.
He sighed and massaged his chin, then passed her the file, watching as she read through it. “I haven’t shown this to anyone except you.”
She glanced up at him briefly before returning her focus to the document. “What should I be looking for?”
“This is intel I got from Andrei. Something’s fucking wrong with it.”
She went through the file again and handed it back to him. He didn’t need to say more; Kat could read him like a book. The frustration etched on his features was all the explanation she needed.
Moving closer to the desk, her eyes flicked between the scattered papers and him. “You think Andrei is the leak, don’t you?”
Viktor’s breath hitched in his chest. There it was—the thought he hadn’t allowed himself to fully acknowledge. Now, the words hung in the air between them, making everything feel sharper, more real.
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “But no one else could have had access to this.” His hand lingered over the reports, fingers tracing the paper as if the answers would jump out at him.
Kat’s lips curled into something between a smile and a sneer. “You’ve been distracted, Viktor. The girl. She’s pulling you off course.”
He stiffened at her words, his jaw locking. There was something in the way she spoke about Sofia that made Viktor’s skin prickle with defensiveness.
“What are you saying?” Viktor asked, his tone cold, calculated. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear her opinion on this, but he knew he had no choice.
Kat paused, her eyes never leaving his. “Attachment makes you weak,” she said plainly. “You’ve allowed her to get too close, and now you’re losing your focus. She’s a liability. All of this”—she gestured to the reports—“could be because of her.”
Viktor’s heart skipped a beat, though his face remained unreadable. Was she right? The question lingered, unspoken, but present. He didn’t want to admit it, not to himself or anyone else. But he couldn’t ignore the truth that was slowly creeping in—Sofia was becoming more than just a distraction. She was making him question his decisions, his next move. She was changing something in him that he wasn’t ready to face.
Before he could answer, Kat turned and walked to the door, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. “Just remember what’s at stake, Viktor,” she said over her shoulder, with a note of finality. “Don’t let her destroy everything you’ve built. She’ll betray you,” Kat added in a near whisper. “You know she will. She’s just like every other person in this world, using you to get what she wants.”
Viktor said nothing because he didn’t know what to say, which was a first. A part of him wanted to dismiss Kat, to argue that Sofia was different. But deep down, he knew that the temptation of power, of survival, could push anyone to betrayal.
She won’t be any different.
Yet his mind couldn’t quite let go of the image of Sofia—her innocence and strength pulling at him in a way nothing else ever had.
Leaning back in his chair, Viktor tapped his fingers against the surface. “I’ll deal with it.”
Kat didn’t respond, but the look in her eyes said everything. She knew this was a battle he might not win. He followed her outside for some fresh air. When she left him, he walked alone, trying to relieve his mind of the internal struggle that was so clearly brewing.
By the time Viktor returned home, night had fully set in. The cold, crisp breeze of the city pressed against the windows of his penthouse, and the weight of his conversation with Kat still clung to him—a constant reminder of the delicate balance he had to maintain. His mind was tangled with the same thoughts that had been plaguing him for days: Andrei’s erratic behavior, the faulty intel, and Kat’s words about Sofia.
His shoes clicked against the polished floors as he entered the penthouse, the emptiness of the space echoing his thoughts. But when he entered the living room, all those worries came to a sudden halt.
There she was. Sofia.
She was curled up on the couch, her small frame draped in one of his shirts, the fabric falling loosely around her like a shield. Her long, dark hair fanned out over the cushions, a few strands caught by the soft glow of the lamp. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, the peacefulness of her sleep a stark contrast to the chaos swirling around him. The rise and fall of her chest, slow and gentle, seemed almost like a heartbeat in the otherwise quiet room.
For a moment, Viktor just stood there, watching her. The sight of her—so unguarded, so fragile—pulled something in him he couldn’t explain. A feeling he hated and craved in equal measure. She was his responsibility now, and yet, she was so much more than that.
He watched as her chest rose and fell rhythmically, her eyelashes fluttering in her sleep. The vulnerability she exuded in that moment was nothing like the fierce woman who challenged him daily.
A strange sense of protectiveness blinked inside him. It was a weakness, and Viktor despised it. This is not how it’s supposed to be, he thought. He was the one who decided everything. But when it came to Sofia, something inside him wavered.
Her body shifted slightly, and her head rolled against the armrest, her cheek caressing the cool leather. Viktor peered at her, lingering for a beat too long. Her innocence in that moment—her complete lack of awareness about the world she had entered—gnawed at him.
She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be sleeping so peacefully, so trusting, in his world. He knew the dangers she faced, and yet here she was, a delicate thread in his web, vulnerable in a way that made him reel with frustration and confusion.
Viktor sighed, his walls shaky for a moment as he took a step toward her. The weight of the day, the strain with Andrei, the warnings from Kat—all of it felt like it was crashing in on him at once.
But even so, he couldn’t bring himself to leave her there. He couldn’t shake the impulse to move closer.
With a soft exhale, he crouched down next to her, careful not to disturb her sleep. He reached out, pushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his fingers lightly grazing her soft skin. Her warmth seeped into him, and he felt an urge to protect her—not just because she was his responsibility, but because there was something about her that called to him.
Her being there was steady, soothing almost, and it brought a strange sense of calm to Viktor’s stormy mind. But he wasn’t fooled. This is dangerous, he reminded himself. He couldn’t let her get too close. She was a distraction. A beautiful, vulnerable distraction—but a distraction nonetheless.
Sofia stirred again, her lips parting as she let out a soft, contented sigh. Viktor watched her, mesmerized. She was so unaware of him, so unaware of the fact that his world was one of violence and treachery. He didn’t want to imagine what would happen if she ever realized how deep she was in.
He felt a strange pull—an instinct to pull her away from all of it, to shield her from the darkness that surrounded him. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t protect her from everything. Not from what he had created.
Before he could lose himself in that thought, Viktor gently scooped her up into his arms, careful not to wake her. She didn’t stir as he lifted her, her body soft and pliant in his hold. It was a stark contrast to the power he wielded, the iron grip he maintained on his empire. And yet, with her in his arms, he felt... vulnerable. As if the one thing he thought he had power over, his own emotions were slipping through his fingers.
Her face nestled against his chest as he carried her to the bedroom, and for a moment, he felt like an entirely different person. Not the ruthless mafia boss. Not the calculating leader. Just a man holding a woman who was everything he couldn’t afford.
He set her down gently on the bed, her body soft against the cool sheets. Viktor stood there for a moment, looking at her, trying to banish the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him. But it was no use. She was a complication. A beautiful, infuriating, and unpredictable complication.
Viktor put his fingers through her hair one more time, a gentle touch that lingered far too long. What are you doing to me? He thought.
As he turned to leave the room, his mind was already back on the problems he’d been avoiding: Andrei, Alexei, the lies and betrayal creeping into his world. But even as he walked out, a part of him remained rooted to Sofia, to the way she looked in the dim light, to the warmth of her body still fresh in his mind.
She’s not safe here. And neither am I, Viktor thought grimly, but it didn’t stop the ache in his chest from growing.