Chapter 36: Chapter Thirty Six.

“…and the operation was a success." Mikhail stated as he sat across from Viktor in the latter’s expansive office, his tone focused as he rattled off the details of the mission.

He carefully went over every key point, ensuring his boss was updated on everything he had missed while he was away. 

“Hm.” Viktor muttered, nodding absentmindedly. His piercing blue eyes seemed fixed on Mikhail, but in truth, his mind was far from the conversation. His thoughts were with *her*. 

**Xena**. 

The faintest smile tugged at his lips as he pictured her—the way her soft voice carried just the right amount of defiance to intrigue him, her fiery spirit barely hidden beneath the fear she tried so hard to mask.

She occupied his every thought, and even now, as Mikhail droned on, Viktor couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing. 

Mikhail paused mid-sentence, his sharp eyes catching the rare smile on Viktor’s face. A slow frown formed as he tilted his head slightly.

"Are you even listening to me?" he asked, irritation lacing his tone. 

Snapping out of his reverie, Viktor blinked and looked directly at Mikhail, his expression immediately hardening into its usual stern mask.

The fleeting smile disappeared as if it had never existed. 

"Where is Anya?" Viktor asked abruptly, rising from his chair and walking toward the floor-to-ceiling windows.

He gazed down at the sprawling cityscape of Moscow, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, exuding a cool, commanding presence. 

Mikhail arched a brow, slightly puzzled by the sudden shift in topic.

"Anya? She’s in her apartment. No missions assigned to her today." he replied, his voice cautious. 

“Good.” Viktor nodded, his back still turned. “Tell her to come to the office. Now.” 

Mikhail’s frown deepened as he studied Viktor’s posture. There was something different about him—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Nonetheless, he complied, pulling out his phone to make the call. 

“Boss wants to see you.” Mikhail said curtly once the line connected. 

A soft laugh echoed on the other end of the line, followed by a teasing remark. Mikhail groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Stop messing around, Anya. You know he’s not a patient man.” 

After a few seconds of silence, the line went dead. Mikhail pocketed his phone, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “She’s on her way.” he said flatly. 

Viktor gave a single nod but didn’t turn away from the window. His sharp gaze swept over the city below, but his mind continued to wander, the image of Xena still lingering.

The way she had looked at him last night—like she wanted to run but couldn’t—had only fueled his obsession. He wanted her to see the inevitability of their connection, whether she liked it or not. 

Returning to his seat, Viktor leaned back, the leather creaking softly under his weight. His expression was unreadable as he glanced at Mikhail.

“Any news on Alexei?” 

Mikhail straightened in his chair, grateful for the return to business.

“We haven’t located his hideout yet, but we’re closing in. We’ve uncovered a few more of his associates, including Yuri. It’s only a matter of time now.” 

Viktor’s jaw tightened, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest of his chair.

“Good.” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “I want them both found. No loose ends.” 

“Understood.” Mikhail replied. 

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of Viktor’s words hanging heavily in the air.

Mikhail couldn’t shake the feeling that something—someone—had shifted Viktor’s focus.

And whoever or whatever it was, it seemed to have awakened a side of him that was equal parts dangerous and distracted. 

Just then, the faint sound of heels clicking against the marble floor echoed from the hallway.

Viktor’s sharp gaze flicked toward the door, his expression darkening into something predatory. 

“Anya’s here.” Mikhail said, glancing at the door as it slowly creaked open. 

“Wow! You got here fast.” Mikhail said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk as Anya stepped into the office.

Anya Volkova was a vision—her fiery red hair cascaded in loose waves over her shoulders, and her siren-like eyes sparkled with mischief.

Her figure was stunning, perfectly sculpted to capture attention, while her teasing smile often left her targets vulnerable before they realized her true intent. As Viktor’s most trusted informant, she was a master of manipulation, effortlessly charming her way into extracting secrets.

Rolling her eyes at Mikhail’s remark, Anya’s gaze shifted to Viktor. The moment their eyes met, her lips curved into a playful smirk.

“Hello, Boss.” she said, her voice a seductive melody laced with her signature Russian accent.

Viktor’s expression remained as cold and unyielding as ever. “I have a task for you.” he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Mikhail, still puzzled by Viktor’s earlier demeanor, arched a brow.

“Another club mission?” he asked Anya with a smirk, but Viktor quickly dismissed the notion.

“No.” Viktor said flatly, his sharp gaze locking onto Anya. “I need your help with something else.”

Curious now, Anya tilted her head. “Alright, boss.” she said with a shrug, her voice dripping with boredom. “What’s the job?”

“I need you to go shopping for me.” Viktor said, his tone as firm as ever.

Both Mikhail and Anya froze, exchanging a bewildered glance. Shopping? *Was this a joke?*

Anya raised a brow, skepticism written all over her face.

“Shopping?” she repeated slowly. “I’m terrible at picking out men’s clothes. This is a terrible idea, boss.”

“Not for me.” Viktor replied curtly, leaning back in his chair.

“Then who?” she asked, folding her arms as her curiosity deepened.

Viktor’s eyes briefly darkened before he responded, “She is 5’7”, slim-thick figure, waist 26, hip 37.” He slid his black card onto the desk without another word, his actions as deliberate as his words.

Anya’s jaw nearly dropped, confusion washing over her.

She wasn’t the only one—Mikhail suddenly straightened in his chair, his mind racing as realization hit.

“Oh ” Mikhail muttered under his breath, his lips twitching with amusement.

He wasn’t sure what stunned him more: the fact that Viktor knew this woman’s measurements with precision or the fact that Viktor was suddenly buying clothes for someone who clearly wasn’t a business associate.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Anya said, holding up a hand as her confusion turned into curiosity.

“Who is this for? Because, last I checked, you don’t have a sister. And even if you did, it’s weird to know her exact measurements. You don’t have a girlfriend either, because—let me quote you—the touch of a woman disgusts you.” She gestured dramatically, her tone dripping with mockery.

And that was when Mikhail lost it. He burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the office. He slapped his knee, practically gasping for air, while Viktor’s glare could have frozen hell itself.

“Just do what I asked.” Viktor snapped, his voice low and dangerous. “Buy dresses, casual clothes, and anything else you women consider necessary.”

Anya’s smirk widened. “So there *is* a woman.” she teased, crossing her arms. “Interesting. Who is she? And what did she do to turn my stone-cold boss into someone who cares about sizes and fashion?”

Viktor’s jaw clenched, his icy gaze boring into her. “Go.” he ordered sharply, his patience wearing thin.

Anya chuckled softly, picking up the black card. “Alright, boss.” she said, her voice still laced with amusement. As she turned to leave, she glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. “I can’t wait to meet the woman who’s managed to soften you up. This is going to be fun.”

She sashayed out of the office, leaving behind an air of playful curiosity.

Mikhail’s laughter had finally subsided, but a grin still stretched across his face. He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “You know, I still can’t believe this.” he said, his tone filled with amusement.

“Get out.” Viktor snarled, his patience officially gone.

Mikhail raised his hands in mock surrender, the grin never leaving his face.

“Alright, alright, I’m going.” he said, standing up and heading toward the door. Just before leaving, he glanced back with a cheeky grin. “But, boss… good luck with this one.”

The door clicked shut, and Viktor sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair.

He stared at the ceiling for a moment, his thoughts consumed by Xena.

He wasn’t softening—he was strategizing. That’s what he told himself, at least. Because no matter what it took, Xena would learn to belong to him.