Chapter 43
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
VIKTOR
I jolt awake.
Like some knee-jerk reaction to stepping off the edge of a towering cliff.
My heart is still hammering like gunfire in my chest.
Color.
I never dream in color.
But just now, in my dream, color bled through the cracks of my mind.
The rust-red bricks of the run-down place we called home in Moscow, the neon glow of the street signs reflected in puddles, the dreary gray sky above the alley where I met Nikolai and Matvey for the first time.
All sharp and vivid like I was standing right there again…
Now, the room’s dark shadows stretch across the ceiling, but even now, I can still see it. Still feel it.
Easing Avelina’s sleeping body gently from my hold, I sit on the edge of the bed and inhale deeply.
This isn’t right.
Everything in my thoughts and dreams has always been black and white. Organized and ordered.
But now it’s messy. Loud and chaotic with the colors bombarding me. Bleeding into my thoughts. Alive in ways I can’t explain.
And it scares the absolute hell out of me.
The warehouse stinks of oil and blood when I arrive. Two Albanian foot soldiers kneel in the center of the floor, zip ties cutting into their wrists. Nikolai stands to the side, arms crossed, watching with an unusually disarming smirk.
“Morning,” he greets me.
I grunt.
“Sunshine and rainbows as usual, Vik. This’ll cheer you up. Caught them trying to breach the north storage site.” He jerks his chin to the men. “Sloppy work. But gives me an excuse to try out some new methods.”
I glance at him, then crouch down in front of the men, staring into their faces. Young. Dumb. And loyal to the wrong people. I push up to stand, pivoting on my foot. “Does Pakhan know?”
“Yeah. He’s on the way from the casino right now.”
“What is your boss up to?” I ask the men.
One spits at my feet.
“Wrong answer,” Nikolai clips.
“Who sent you?” I grit out.
Silence.
“Go get one of your toys, Nikolai,” I say, staring down at the two boys. One’s sniveling and shivering, the other’s still trying to put on a brave face. They won’t last long.
When Nikolai returns, we first let our fists do the talking. Cracking ribs, splitting lips, breaking down that bravado little by little until all that’s left is desperation and pain.
Nikolai’s smile grows when he lights his cigarette.
“Who told you to hit the warehouse?” I try again, pressing the tip of my knife into one of their cheeks. Pressing just enough to draw blood.
“We… It w-was just an order from some guy,” the first one says, the one who looks ready to pass out.
“What guy?” Nikolai asks around the cigarette between his teeth. He’s just itching to throw it now that we’ve doused them in gasoline.
“Didn’t get a name, I swear!”
“Not good enough,” I rumble, reaching for the matches.
“Wait! Wait! We got paid up front to hit the storage unit,” the first one shrieks. “Some…some military-looking guys. Scary as shit. Had these tattoos…”
Nikolai and I exchange a look.
“Why?”
“Dunno, man,” the boy snivels. “He said it was just personal. That we’d get cash if we did it. Something about FSB and a bunch of shit in Russian I didn’t catch.”
I go still.
FSB.
I can see Nikolai’s brow furrow as if he’s trying to figure out the connection. But I already know. Gennady. My jaw tightens, and I sigh, shoving up from where I’m crouched.
“You think it’s related to the ambush on the compound?” Nikolai says.
“Some random guy tells these two idiots to hit our storage? Weeks following an attack by some freelancers with tattoos, and now FSB and Albanians working together?”
“Point made.”
“Do what you want with them,” I say. “I’m going back to the Kremlin. Going to call some of my contacts and see what I can dig up.”
“Wait! Wait!” The second man, the one who’s been trying to be some big macho man, starts screaming as Nikolai strides toward him with a blowtorch to have his fun.
I make my way to my SUV, rubbing at my temples.
Pulling the notebook from my pocket, I scrawl in a seven.
That’s where I’m at right now. The flickering lights in the warehouse.
The strong smell of gasoline. The whole damn situation has my mind and senses spinning too fast. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I know I just need to relax. To regulate again.
I need Avelina.
I freeze.
How dependent am I now on this woman? And does it matter?
With a shake of my head, I start the car and tear out of the parking lot and onto the bustling highway, heading back to the Kremlin.
Hours pass before I even look up from my computer screen.
The encrypted files just keep going, sent from an old contact I have in the Russian armed forces.
Gennady is FSB, and the skating club isn’t just a side gig.
He’s involved in a long-term recruitment front for FSB agents.
It was all about instilling mandatory obedience, completely breaking innocent girls down into shells of themselves, and turning those who passed the brutal tests into groomed agents with loyalty to the state.
Bile burns the back of my throat.
That bastard isn’t just a coach. He’s a handler.
And what’s worse? He’s mixed up with the fucking Albanians now.
But I’m done letting him pull the strings.
I need to strike—and strike fast.
Footsteps, soft and measured, hit my ears before the knock.
“Viktor?” Avelina’s voice is muffled through the door.
She appears a moment later, haloed by the hall light.
Concern etches into her face, and I hate that it’s not the sunshine and smiles she normally brings.
“I brought you dinner,” she says, gesturing to the plate in her hand. “Is everything okay?”
Her just being next to me loosens some of the knots in my body. I swallow, closing my eyes.
Gently, her hand rests on my bare arm, and I zero in on it. That welcoming scent that wraps around her fills my nose, and I sigh softly as she squeezes my arm before pulling me into a hug. “It’s okay, Viktor.”
“It’s not. I’m not any closer to finishing this.
Killing Gennady—killing an FSB agent—means war.
And the Albanians are fucking trying to take over our arms deals with the Russian government.
And they’re making deals through Gennady to achieve this.
” Frustration cuts me off, and I feel my fingers curl tighter.
“Shhh,” she says softly.
But I can’t calm it down. “I won’t risk your life or Sofia’s…
He’s playing all sides. Selling access, moving weapons, laundering through shell corporations.
But none of it fucking helps,” I say against her shoulder as she hugs me tightly like she does to calm Sofia.
“I’m going to protect you. Even if all of Russia comes for me. ”
“I know.”
“He used you and the other girls…”
I can feel her swallow thickly at the words, and I hold her tighter. “It was…” Her voice trails off.
“Psychological and physical hell.” The words are blunt and factual. I shouldn’t say it like that, but I can’t help it. My voice drops low. “You and Sofia, you are never going back.”
I look up at her, cupping her face gently. The way it’s become so easy to touch her, to relish in the softness of her skin, never ceases to amaze me. And yet it terrifies me all the same. “I promise you, I’m going to keep you safe.”
She nods. “I know.”
I’ve never wanted to keep a promise more than I do right now. “It’s not going to be pretty. It’ll be messy and dangerous and…” The words fail me. I know how she feels about dangerous men.
“Do it anyway, Viktor.”
I blink at her.
“If he’s out there, if he’s still doing this, if he still has that kind of power… We’re not safe. Sofia isn’t safe.” Her voice cracks, and my thumb brushes a tear from her cheek. Not one of fear, but fury.
And I match it. “I’m going to end him,” I say. “And when it’s done and over, you and Sofia won’t have to worry about him ever again.”
Later, once Avelina, Leon, and Sofia are sound asleep, I make my way back to my office. Sitting alone in the dark, I piece together my plan. It’s not perfect. I know that. But it’s something.
In a few short days, this will be over. One way or another, I will protect what’s mine.
The thought gives me pause. Mine. The word rings through my head like an echo. I have my brothers, but even they’re kept at some distance. But Avelina? Sofia and Leon?
I push that thought into its own little box. I’ll think about it later.
It should bring comfort. But it doesn’t.
Because my thoughts keep drifting to how I’ve started thinking and dreaming in color.
The colors appearing in my mind are too sharp.
Too warm. Like something I can’t scrub away.
My brain’s supposed to file things into tidy categories—black, white, threat, non-threat.
But now it all bleeds together. Feelings and memories run together to the point I can’t tell where the past ends and the future begins.
I don’t like it. I don’t like color. And I don’t like change. Because change means risk. And vulnerability.
I snap the laptop shut. The plan is made. My contacts confirm a time and place. Everything is ready. The next shipment where Gennady shows, I’ll do it. End him and walk away before his body even hits the ground.
But I still don’t feel settled.
My routines have been disrupted just like my thoughts. Avelina has changed everything. My room, now sprinkled with pastel candles and her clothes. My schedule, quiet nights in instead of chaos. But I didn’t fight it. I wanted it. And that’s the scary part. Because I care now.
My phone vibrates. Nikolai’s name flashes on the screen.
“What?” I grunt.
“We got ‘em. Leaving a casino off the Strip. Headed east.”
“Anyone with him?”
“Two vehicles. The drivers are Albanian soldiers.”
“Keep eyes on. Don’t engage,” I say in a terse tone.
“You sure Gennady is involved?”
“Positive.”
“You know what this means, Viktor?”
“I gave my word to Avelina. I know what it means. I’ll take the heat.”
“Ending an FSB agent is gonna bring attention,” he sighs.
“Yeah.”
“And you’re good with that?”
“Never been more certain.” I hang up. It’s happening. Whether it lands me in prison or dead, I don’t care—because there’s no other option open to me.
We reach the freight yard after midnight.
My plan was simple. One shot. No witnesses. No trail.
But the area’s deserted. Gennady and the three SUVs are fucking gone. All that remains are tire tracks in the dust.
I want to rage. But I don’t.
They’re smart. But not smart enough.
Because Nikolai’s drones are on their trail.
Which means that I’m going to fucking find them.