Chapter Nine – Alyssa
The hum of fluorescent lights buzzes overhead as I stare at the files scattered across my desk. They blur, the words becoming meaningless as my mind drifts back to Viktor Volkov. It shouldn’t matter. He shouldn’t matter. But every time I try to push him away, his dark eyes, that searing grip, and the way he kissed me—recklessly, intensely—creep back in. It’s like he’s burned himself into my thoughts, refusing to leave.
I press my fingertips to my temples, willing the images away, trying to focus. There’s work to do. Victims to identify, a case to solve. But every time I touch a file, Viktor’s face is there. His words echo. The way he looked at me like he saw straight through the walls I’ve spent years building.
I slam my pen onto the desk. I’m better than this. I’m not some girl who gets caught up in emotions, especially not for a man like him. He’s dangerous. A threat. But that kiss—no. It was a mistake. A distraction. It won’t happen again.
I stand up, needing to move, to shake off the restless energy building inside me. “Focus, Alyssa,” I mutter, my voice tight as I glance out the small window. Below, the lab is empty. Cold. It’s a reflection of the detachment I try so hard to hold onto. But right now, it’s crumbling. That single encounter, that kiss, has shaken something in me that I don’t know how to fix.
I can’t afford this. I need to dive into these files. To find answers. The victims, the neurotoxin, the syndicate behind it all. The Bratva. The shadows Viktor warned me about. I’m digging too deep, I realize. It’s bigger than I thought. And Viktor might be right—this isn’t just a case. It’s a war I’m walking into.
My fingers hover over a file, the one that started it all. A businessman, dead with a puncture mark in his neck, paralyzed when the authorities found him. Then another victim—just like him. A journalist. Frozen, terrified. A pattern. But nothing solid to connect it to the Bratva. Just rumors, whispers. And the neurotoxin? It’s rare. Too rare. Everything points to something darker, more dangerous than I’d imagined.
I’m about to dive back in when the sound of footsteps catches my ear. Nina. She appears in the doorway, holding a coffee cup, concern etched on her face.
“Thought you could use this,” she says, setting the coffee down on my desk. “You look like you’re about to strangle those files.”
I take the cup, grateful for the break, and sip it in silence. The warmth helps, but not enough to ease the tension winding through me. “You have no idea.”
Nina watches me for a beat before leaning against the desk. “You want to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” I glance at the files again, hoping she’ll take the hint. But Nina knows me too well. Her eyebrow arches as she crosses her arms.
“Alyssa, don’t play coy. Is it the case, or is it… him?”
I freeze. The words hit harder than I expect, twisting a knot in my stomach. “It’s the case,” I lie, my voice too tight. “There’s just a lot to figure out.”
Nina’s gaze softens, but she doesn’t push. “Well, whatever it is, I’m here for you. Even if you just need to scream into the void for a minute. I’ll be your person.”
I manage a smile, appreciating her support, even if I can’t talk about it yet. “Thanks, Nina. I really appreciate it.”
She squeezes my shoulder, then retreats, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The weight of them crashes down again. Viktor, his kiss, his words. The way he made me feel like I was both in control and completely powerless. A game I’m not sure I can win.
I force myself to focus. I need to read these files, piece together the clues. The victims, the toxin, the connection to the Bratva. But each page feels like it’s taunting me, reminding me of the darkness I’m stumbling into. The phone buzzes on my desk, and I glance at the screen. Unknown number. My heart skips.
I answer. “Alyssa Hall.”
A pause. Then his voice—low, dangerous, and laced with something that makes my pulse quicken. “Alyssa. It’s Viktor.”
My grip tightens around the phone. “How did you get this number?”
There’s a smirk in his tone, even through the line. “Does it matter? We agreed—no more surprises.”
I close my eyes, trying to keep the irritation in check. “What do you want, Viktor?”
“I need to talk to you. Somewhere more… private.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary. I’ve made myself clear.”
He doesn’t press, but his voice drops, deliberate. “Maybe. But I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”
I pause, despite myself. He’s not pushing, just letting his silence hang between us like a challenge. It makes my curiosity flare, even as my better judgment screams at me to hang up. But I don’t.
“Fine. Where?” I bite out.
“Tonight. Eight o’clock. I’ll send you the address.”
And then the line goes dead, leaving me with nothing but the sound of my own breath and a thousand thoughts racing through my head. What did I just agree to?
The hours crawl by. I try to dive back into the files, but Viktor’s call lingers like a shadow. His voice, his presence, his power. By the time the clock ticks toward seven, I’m wound tight, every inch of me vibrating with tension. Seeing him again… it might destroy everything I’ve worked for. But I don’t think I can stop it now.
The address he sent leads me to a private rooftop overlooking the city, far enough from the bustling streets that it feels almost isolated, like we’re in our own world above the chaos below. When I step onto the rooftop, the cool night air brushes against my skin, and I spot him standing by the edge, his figure silhouetted against the glow of the city lights.
“Alyssa,” he says, his voice almost like the rumble of thunder before a storm.
“Viktor,” I answer, trying to steady my nerves. His presence is unsettling, the tension between us so thick I could cut it with a knife. “You said you had something to tell me?”
His gaze drifts over me for a second, then back to my eyes, intense. He’s weighing me, studying me like a predator. “I wanted to warn you. There are things you don’t understand yet. Things you’re better off not knowing.”
I fold my arms, standing tall, even though every part of me is on edge. “If you think you can scare me off, you’re wasting your time.”
His lips twitch, but there’s no humor in it, only something darker. “It’s not fear I’m trying to inspire, Alyssa.” His voice drops, the words hanging heavy in the air. “I know your fire. Your determination.” He pauses, like he’s trying to hold back something raw. “But I don’t want to see you swallowed whole by this world.”
I can feel his eyes on me, a weight that sinks deep into my skin. “What makes you think I need protecting?” My voice comes out sharper than I intend.
“Because you don’t know what this world does to people,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve watched it destroy those who thought they were untouchable. The darkness creeps in, Alyssa. Slowly. You think you can fight it, but it blurs the lines. It makes you forget who you were.”
I meet his gaze, unflinching. “And what about you? Do you remember who you are, Viktor?”
His jaw tightens, and for a second, his eyes flash—something like regret, or maybe pain. Then it’s gone. “I know exactly who I am.” His words are steel, but they’re not as sharp as they were before. “I’ve sacrificed everything to survive in this world.”
The change in his tone hits me harder than I expect. There’s something in his voice, something raw that I wasn’t prepared for. For just a second, I see past the cold exterior, past the hardened man in front of me, and catch a glimpse of the vulnerability he’s hiding. It’s brief, like a crack in armor that he quickly seals up, but it leaves me reeling.
I take a step closer. My voice catches. “Why did you bring me here?”
He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he closes the gap between us, the space shrinking until we’re inches apart. His presence is suffocating, magnetic. “Because you make me forget who I’m supposed to be,” he says, his voice low, almost a growl. “And that terrifies me.”
My heart hammers in my chest. The air feels heavy, charged. I want to step back, to keep my distance, but I can’t. His gaze holds me, pulls me in. My hand reaches out without thinking, resting against his chest. The heat of his body beneath my fingertips is like a shock.
“I can’t do this,” I whisper, the words scraping against my throat. Even as I say them, I don’t move away. “You’re a danger to everything I stand for.”
His hand moves slowly, deliberately, and brushes a strand of hair from my face. His touch lingers for a second, a spark of something between us. “And yet, you’re here,” he says, his voice quieter now, softer, almost tender. “You’re here because deep down, you know we’re the same. You feel this connection, don’t you? This is real, Alyssa.”
I close my eyes, my breath catching in my throat as I feel the heat of him near me, the warmth of his body seeping into mine. “Viktor…” My voice falters, but I don’t pull away.
He doesn’t wait for permission; his lips are on mine, fierce and unyielding, pulling me into a kiss that’s rough, demanding, yet filled with a desperation that matches my own. I respond, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as I surrender to the pull between us, to the raw intensity that’s been simmering beneath the surface.
He presses me back against the wall, his hands gripping my waist, his touch both possessive and gentle. There’s a hunger in his kiss, a need that feels as dangerous as it is thrilling, and I can feel myself giving in, letting him take control as the world fades away.
The kiss deepens, his lips rougher now, urgent. I’m pulled in, his hands sliding over me with a hunger that makes my pulse spike. Every touch, every movement sends a jolt of electricity through me, leaving me dizzy. I know this is reckless. I know I should pull away, but the heat between us is too much, too consuming. My breath hitches, and for a moment, I lose myself in the chaos of it all.
When he pulls back, it’s like coming up for air. His forehead rests against mine, our breaths coming in sharp, uneven gasps. The world feels distant, muffled, as if it's just the two of us here, the rest of the universe fading into nothingness. His fingers trace the curve of my arm, a slow, deliberate movement that sends a shiver down my spine. His eyes lock onto mine, and the intensity there nearly steals my breath.
“This isn’t over, Alyssa,” his voice is thick, rough, like he’s struggling to hold himself back. “Whatever this is… it’s just the beginning.”
I don’t answer. I can’t. His words hang in the air, heavy, knowing. And deep down, somewhere inside, I feel it. He’s right.