Chapter Four – Viktor
The night is thick, pressing in like a damp cloak. I lean against the crumbling brick wall across from Alyssa’s apartment, my frame hidden in the shadows. Her window flickers to life, a soft glow that cuts through the darkness. My fingers itch for a cigarette, but I don’t light one. Can’t afford even a flicker of flame right now.
I should’ve walked away when I spoke to her on the street, but my feet refused to walk away from her. So, I followed her to her apartment. She’s there, somewhere inside, pacing her small apartment like a caged animal, flipping through those damned files. The ones that should have stayed buried. Her defiance from the street still burns in my veins, the way she stared me down like she was bulletproof.
Alyssa doesn’t know it, but every step she takes in this case puts her on a path she won’t be able to turn back from. Yet, here I am, waiting for her to make that mistake.
Footsteps. Quiet, measured. Lev’s shadow falls across the ground before he’s close enough to speak.
“Can’t say this neighborhood’s known for its nightlife,” he murmurs, his tone casual but edged with suspicion. “So, what’s the attraction?”
I keep my eyes on her window. “Just taking in the view.”
Lev steps closer, studying my face. “Funny,” he says, almost smiling. “I thought you were smarter than this.”
I don’t bite. Silence is easier. The glow from Alyssa’s window casts a faint light across the street, and for a moment, I think I see her silhouette.
“You know,” Lev says, voice dropping lower, “the Directors are starting to wonder if you’ve gone soft.” He tilts his head, watching me like a wolf sizing up prey. “She’s just a loose end, Viktor. Nothing more.”
“Loose ends don’t keep digging,” I reply, finally turning to face him. His eyes narrow, trying to read what I’m not saying.
“Let her dig,” he shrugs, but his tone isn’t as casual as he wants it to be. “Maybe it’ll be fun watching her drown.”
I clench my jaw, forcing my hands to stay loose at my sides. “Or maybe it’ll put a spotlight on all of us. You want that kind of attention?”
For a beat, he doesn’t answer. Then, with a slow, mocking smile, he leans in. “You’re slipping, Viktor. Watch yourself. Or someone else will.”
But before I can say anything, Lev shifts, his posture going serious. “By the way,” he adds, voice turning colder. “The Ghost Doctor is starting to act unreasonable. They’re asking for a higher price now, demanding more to stay silent. And the Directors? They’ve had enough. They’ve issued an order—lure the Ghost Doctor out, find out who they are, and kill them. End this before they get any ideas about asking for more.”
I don't flinch, but the weight of it settles in. The Ghost Doctor has been a thorn in our side for too long. A mercenary we had hired to do the unthinkable and now, they are making demands. They are starting to feel untouchable.
My eyes are still fixated on Alyssa’s window when I say, “Keep me in the loop.”
---
Two days slide by like molasses. Alyssa’s been quiet, too quiet. But I’m not fooled. I’ve kept an eye on her, tracking her late nights at the lab, the way she pours over those cursed files, her eyes dark with determination. Every time she gets closer, a part of me wants to pull her back. Another part? Wants to see how far she’ll go before she hits a wall.
I’m back in front of Alyssa’s apartment. The street is silent, only the distant hum of traffic breaking the stillness. Her light is on, a beacon in the night, and I can, again, see her shadow moving behind the curtains.
I watch her for a long moment, torn between going up there and walking away. But I can’t let it go.
With a soft breath, I cross the street, my footsteps swallowed by the night. I knock once, twice. The sound echoes, harsh and final.
The door swings open, revealing Alyssa. She’s dressed in an old t-shirt, her hair pulled into a messy knot. But her eyes—those eyes are sharp, burning with that same fire I saw last time. She doesn’t back down, doesn’t flinch. Just crosses her arms and blocks the doorway like she’s daring me to push past.
“What do you want, Viktor?” she snaps, her voice low and sharp.
I keep my tone steady, even as something twists in my chest. “We need to talk.”
Her eyes narrow. “Talk? Or are you here to scare me into dropping the case?”
I let out a slow breath, shaking my head. “If I wanted to scare you, Alyssa, you’d know it.”
Her jaw clenches, but she doesn’t move, doesn’t give an inch. “What’s this really about? You think I’m going to stop because you show up at my door? Newsflash, Mr. Coleman—I’m not that easily intimidated.”
Her words hit like a slap, but there’s something else in her gaze. Something that tells me she’s more afraid than she wants to admit.
“I’m trying to keep you alive,” I say quietly, stepping closer. She holds her ground, but her breath hitches. “The Bratva doesn’t play games. If you keep digging, they’ll come for you. And they won’t stop.”
“Then maybe,” she says, her voice a whisper, “you should help me instead of threatening me.”
Her words hang between us, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of us standing there, inches apart. I could reach out, touch her cheek, pull her into a kiss that I know would taste like fire and regret. But I don’t. Instead, I say, “Will you let me in then? I’ve got something to tell you, something about your father.”