Chapter 23: Chapter Twenty Three
“This is bad. You need to leave here.” Nana said finally, her voice trembling with a mix of urgency and fear.
She had been quiet for several minutes after listening to Xena recount how she met Viktor in New York and the incident at the club that had spiraled everything out of control.
Xena’s eyes widened.
“What? Leave? Nana, we can’t just run away. Can’t we report this to the police instead?” she asked, trying to steady her voice even as anxiety churned in her chest.
Nana shook her head, letting out a weary sigh as she sat down beside Xena.
“It’s not that simple, child. This isn’t about just him anymore. This is about keeping you safe, and the police... they can’t help. If anything, involving them might make things worse.”
“What do you mean worse? How could it possibly get worse?” Xena pressed, her voice breaking slightly.
Nana looked away, her expression clouded with a somber shadow.
“Once you attract one criminal, the others can smell you.” she muttered, more to herself than to Xena.
Xena blinked, her stomach tightening.
“Nana, what are you talking about? Who’s ‘him’? Why are you acting like this?” Her voice was laced with frustration and fear.
Nana turned to face her, her stern eyes locking onto Xena’s.
“Viktor is dangerous, yes, but he’s not the only one you should be worried about. The world he comes from is filled with predators, and once you’ve caught their attention, it’s almost impossible to escape. If you stay here, you’re putting everyone in danger.”
“But you’re asking me to leave! What about you and Diego? What if he comes after you both? I can’t just abandon you.” Xena protested, standing abruptly from the couch. Her hands were shaking, and her voice cracked with emotion.
Nana stood too, her face hardening into an expression Xena had never seen before. It sent a shiver down her spine.
“Child.” Nana said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument, “if you knew what I know about the criminal world, you would listen to me. You are leaving here, as soon as possible. I made a promise to your parents to keep you safe, to protect you from that world—again.”
“*Again?”* Xena echoed, her voice barely a whisper. Her confusion deepened as she watched Nana turn and walk down the hallway toward her bedroom, leaving her alone in the living room.
Xena stood there, stunned, her thoughts racing. What did Nana mean by ‘again’? How does any of this connect to our family? Her legs felt weak, and she sank back onto the couch, staring at the empty hallway where Nana had disappeared.
The weight of everything was becoming too much for her to handle.
First Viktor, now this cryptic warning from Nana—it felt like her world was unraveling. She buried her face in her hands, willing herself to breathe, to think clearly.
Her phone buzzed, pulling her out of her spiraling thoughts. She glanced at the screen and saw a text from Leonardo.
“Xena? Are you okay? Did he do anything to you?” the message read.
A lump formed in her throat as she quickly typed back, “I’m okay. What about you? Are you really hurt? Did you get treatment?”
A moment later, his reply came: “Yes, I’m good. Someone helped me. Don’t worry about me.”
Xena exhaled a shaky sigh of relief. At least Leonardo was safe for now. But her hands trembled as she placed the phone down.
She stood and made her way to her room, her mind buzzing with unanswered questions.
As she shut the door behind her, she leaned against it and stared at the ceiling, her thoughts racing.
What did Nana mean by ‘*protect me again*’? Why does she know so much about Viktor’s world?
The pieces didn’t fit, but one thing was clear—this was bigger than she ever imagined. And for the first time, she felt truly terrified of the secrets her family might be hiding.
◇◇◇
"Ahhh!" A guttural scream tore through the stillness of the dark alleyway, reverberating off the brick walls and into the cold night air.
In the shadows of the narrow passage, a man lay slumped against the wall, his face battered and swollen.
Blood trickled down from the corner of his mouth, mingling with the dirt on his torn shirt. His left eye was nearly swollen shut, and his breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale causing him to wince in pain.
He looked utterly defeated, the fight drained out of him.
Standing before him, like a harbinger of doom, was Viktor. His imposing figure was partially illuminated by the pale glow of the moon, the light casting sharp shadows across his face.
His long black coat hung loosely off his broad shoulders, the hem brushing the ground as he moved.
Slowly, he began removing his leather gloves, the methodical act sending shivers of anticipation through the air.
The beaten man flinched as Viktor handed the gloves to one of his men, the same man Viktor had assigned to shadow Xena.
He had done his job well—too well. Viktor now had the mysterious stalker who had been trailing Xena right where he wanted him.
Viktor crouched down, bringing himself level with the injured man. His icy gaze bored into the man’s bloodied face, unrelenting and devoid of mercy.
Blood from the man’s head dripped onto the ground in a steady rhythm, the sound almost deafening in the oppressive silence of the alley.
Viktor’s jaw was tight, the scar running along the side of his face illuminated by the faint moonlight.
Instead of softening his features, the light only seemed to emphasize the danger radiating from him.
He looked like a predator cornering his prey, and the scar added an even more menacing edge to his expression.
"Who sent you?" Viktor’s voice was a deadly growl, his tone sharp enough to cut through the suffocating tension in the alley.
The man on the ground coughed, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth as he tried to catch his breath.
"Y-you—" he choked out, his voice raspy and broken.
"Do you know what happens to those who make the mistake of taking interest of what's mine? Huh?" Viktor’s voice was low, a deadly whisper that made the man shudder.
"I—I didn’t—" the man stammered, his voice breaking as he tried to form a coherent sentence.
Viktor didn’t let him finish. In one swift movement, he grabbed the man’s jaw, forcing him to look up.
The stalker whimpered, his swollen eyes darting around, searching for an escape that didn’t exist.
"You didn’t mean what?" Viktor sneered, his voice dripping with contempt.
"To follow her? To exist in her world? Because trust me." he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper, "you don’t belong there. You don’t belong anywhere near her."
The stalker winced as Viktor’s grip tightened, his bruised face contorting in pain.
Viktor let go, shoving the man’s head back against the wall with enough force to make the impact echo. The stalker groaned in pain, slumping further down the wall.
"I should kill you right now." Viktor said coldly, rising to his full height. He towered over the man like a god of retribution, his black coat swaying with the motion.
"But that would be too easy. But first, who sent you?."
"My... boss." the man sputtered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of blood in his ears and the pain that wracked his body.
Viktor crouched lower, his cold, calculating eyes boring into the man's.
"And who is your boss?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm, a dangerous edge lying just beneath the surface.
The man hesitated, his breath hitching as he met Viktor’s unyielding gaze.
"Tell me." Viktor growled, his patience waning. "Or I will kill—"
"You can kill me if you want." the stalker interrupted, his voice breaking but his defiance momentarily shining through. "But I will never—"
Before he could finish his sentence, Viktor’s fist collided with his face in a brutal punch that echoed in the confined alley.
The man groaned, spitting blood as he slumped against the wall, his defiance faltering.
"*Motherfucker*." Viktor cursed in Russian, standing over the man like a predator.
The stalker coughed, his body trembling from the pain, but he managed to laugh—a dry, taunting sound.
"What... is the Don of Russia doing here... for a mere girl?"
Viktor's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at the man’s insolence.
The stalker laughed again, weaker this time but no less mocking.
"You said she’s yours... but my boss... he already made a mark on her."
The words were like gasoline on a fire. Viktor’s fury ignited, his stormy eyes darkening with an unholy rage. He bent down again, grabbing the man by the collar and pulling him closer.
"Xena Rossi belongs to Viktor Sokolov." he snarled, his voice low and dangerous.
"She. Is. Mine. I don’t share what’s mine. And I’ll kill anyone—or anything—that tries to touch her. Even your coward of a boss."
Viktor’s smirk was icy, a cruel twist of his lips that promised nothing but pain.
He released the man, letting him drop to the ground like discarded trash, then turned to his men, who stood silently in the shadows, awaiting his orders.
"Cut off all his fingers." Viktor commanded, his voice void of any emotion. "And cut out his tongue."
The stalker’s eyes widened in terror, his earlier defiance now replaced with pure panic. "No—wait—please—"
Viktor ignored him, straightening his coat as he prepared to leave. He paused and glanced back, his tone almost mocking.
"Don’t worry. I’m not completely heartless. They’ll drop you at a hospital... if you’re still alive by then."
Without sparing another glance, Viktor walked out of the alley, his steps echoing in the silence. The moment he stepped out, a blood-curdling scream erupted behind him.
Viktor didn’t flinch; the sound only brought a satisfied smirk to his lips as he disappeared into the night.