Chapter 28: Chapter Twenty Eight.

As Viktor descended the grand staircase, his presence commanded immediate silence. The murmurs among the maids ceased, their heads bowing instinctively as the echo of his polished shoes against the marble floor reverberated through the room. His sharp gaze scanned the staff lined neatly in rows, daring anyone to meet his eyes.

"Svetlana." Viktor called out, his deep, authoritative voice breaking the silence. His accent was thick, rolling over the name with precision.

An older woman stepped forward with a practiced grace, her hands folded neatly in front of her apron. She bowed respectfully, her expression calm but alert. Years of service had taught her to anticipate his needs without question.

"Yes, Don?" she replied, her tone steady and deferential.

Viktor’s piercing gaze settled on her, his expression unreadable. “The woman upstairs—Xena. She will be staying indefinitely.” His words were clipped, leaving no room for argument.

Svetlana’s brows lifted slightly in surprise, but she quickly masked her reaction. “Understood, sir.” she said with a nod.

“She is not to be disturbed unless I say so. Assign two maids to attend to her needs, but they are to keep their distance unless called upon. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly clear, Don.” Svetlana replied.

“Good.” Viktor’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And Svetlana… I want you personally overseeing her meals and ensuring her comfort. I don’t want any mistakes.”

“Yes, Don. I will see to it immediately.”

As Svetlana stepped back into line, Viktor’s eyes briefly swept over the staff. “And one more thing.” he added, his voice low but laced with warning. “Anyone caught gossiping about her—or making her uncomfortable —will face consequences. Am I understood?”

A chorus of “Yes, Don.” echoed through the hall, the staff bowing their heads lower in unison.

Satisfied, Viktor turned sharply and strode toward his private study, his mind already turning to other matters. Svetlana remained still for a moment, her sharp eyes watching his retreating figure before turning to address the other maids.

“You heard him.” she said in a no-nonsense tone. “I want no idle chatter, no speculations. Focus on your work.”

The younger maids exchanged glances but quickly nodded, dispersing to their respective tasks.

Svetlana moved with purpose, heading toward the kitchen to prepare Xena’s first meal in the mansion. Though she was curious about the young woman Viktor had carried in so tenderly—a sight no one had ever witnessed before—she was wise enough to keep her questions to herself.

Upstairs, Xena stirred slightly in her sleep, unaware of the storm brewing around her presence in Viktor’s world.

♧♧♧

The soft glow of the desk lamp illuminated Viktor’s private study, casting sharp shadows across the room as he poured over the documents in front of him. The silence was thick, save for the occasional scratch of his pen against the paper. It was his haven, a place where no one dared disturb him unless absolutely necessary.

But that peace was shattered when the door burst open with a bang, slamming against the wall. Viktor’s head snapped up, his icy blue eyes narrowing as Mikhail strolled in with his signature cocky grin.

“What’s the use of having men stationed everywhere if they can’t stop a reckless idiot from barging in?” Viktor’s voice was low and dangerous, his tone sharper than the blade he kept hidden in his desk. “Use your hands next time, Mikhail, and *knock* before I make you regret it.”

Mikhail, unbothered by the threat, threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Relax, Don. It’s good to see you too. I missed you!” He dropped into the chair opposite Viktor’s desk, lounging like he owned the place.

Viktor’s glare darkened. “What do you want, Mikhail? I don’t have time for your nonsense.”

“Why so serious?” Mikhail smirked, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk. “Can’t a man check in on his best friend? I mean, you’ve been back less than a day, and already the mansion is buzzing with rumors.”

Viktor’s eyes narrowed further, his patience hanging by a thread. “Get to the point.”

Mikhail’s grin widened. “Fine, fine. I was just... curious. You know, about the lady you carried off the plane. You, Viktor Sokolov, who doesn’t even let women breathe near him, carrying one into your mansion? Now *that’s* a headline!” He feigned shock, throwing a hand over his chest like he was scandalized.

Viktor’s grip on his pen tightened, his knuckles turning white. “Don’t meddle in things that don’t concern you, Mikhail.” he growled.

“Come on, Viktor.” Mikhail leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with an amused smirk. “The staff is practically losing their minds. If the media gets wind of this, imagine the frenzy. Viktor Sokolov, The Don, untouchable mafia king, goes soft for a girl.” He laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

“Shut the fuck up ” Viktor snapped, his voice like a whip. The room seemed to grow colder, the air heavy with his simmering rage.

Mikhail held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Alright, alright! Don’t blow a gasket. I’m just saying... it’s interesting, that’s all.”

“You’re not saying anything.” Viktor shot back, his tone lethal. “And you’re not meeting her.”

That wiped the grin off Mikhail’s face. “What? Why not?”

Viktor leaned forward, his eyes blazing with barely contained fury. “Because she’s *mine*. And I won’t have you or anyone else interfering.”

Mikhail blinked, momentarily thrown off by the intensity of Viktor’s claim. “Jesus Christ.” he muttered, sitting up straighter. “Okay, chill. I wasn’t planning on stealing her or anything.”

Viktor didn’t respond, his icy gaze boring into Mikhail until the younger man shifted uncomfortably. The tension in the room was palpable, the kind of tension that could snap necks if Viktor willed it.

“Fine.” Mikhail relented, standing up and brushing invisible dust off his jacket. “I’ll stay out of it. For now.” He shot Viktor a mischievous grin as he backed toward the door. “But I can’t promise I won’t keep poking fun. It’s too good to resist.”

“Mikhail.” Viktor’s voice was dangerously low, like the calm before a storm.

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving!” Mikhail held his hands up again, backing out of the room. “Just try not to kill me next time I come by.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and Viktor let out a slow, controlled breath. His fingers tapped against the desk as his thoughts wandered, despite himself, to Xena.

Her presence in his world had already created chaos, and he hadn’t even begun to figure out what to do with her.

But one thing was certain: no one—not Mikhail, not the staff, not the world—would come between him and what was his.

“Mine.” he muttered under his breath, the word a vow.