Chapter Seventy Five.

Chapter Seventy Five.

Viktor stood in the center of his office, his broad frame slightly hunched as he slowly packed away a few scattered files into the drawer.

The atmosphere around him was thick.

The door creaked open.

Mikhail stepped in.

He looked around the room once, then settled his gaze on Viktor. "What's the news?" His voice was low, cautious.

Viktor didn’t lift his eyes. He shoved a folder inside the cabinet and exhaled through his nose before replying in a hardened tone, “Marco told her. She knows now.”

Mikhail’s brows furrowed immediately. “Shit… And how did she take it?”

At that, Viktor finally looked up. His eyes were darker than usual, filled with frustration and something deeper, hurt, maybe.

He ran a hand over his face, the stubble scraping his palm. “I don’t know,” he muttered, voice gritty. “She just… looked shocked, at first. Frozen.”

Mikhail crossed his arms. “We both know Marco. He’s not the kind of bastard who lets go easily.”

“I’m aware,” Viktor said coldly, his jaw tightening like steel. “That motherfucker won’t stop until he gets what he wants. But he’s not getting her. Not while I’m breathing.”

There was a brief pause.

“Any sign of him yet?” Viktor asked, tone clipped.

Mikhail shook his head. “No. He’s vanished off the grid. No movement, nothing. Might’ve slipped out of Moscow.”

Viktor scoffed under his breath, shaking his head slowly, eyes still locked on nothing in particular. “No. That snake didn’t leave. He’s here. Watching. Waiting.”

“We wiped out most of his men in the fight few days ago,” Mikhail said with a shrug, though even he sounded unsure.

Viktor let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “Trust me. Marco doesn’t need an army to strike. He just needs the right opening. And I’ll be damned if I give him that. From now on, Xena’s safety is the only thing that matters.”

Mikhail gave a curt nod. “Understood.”

There was silence for a beat before Mikhail added, “Oh, and… Yuri’s been found.”

Viktor’s eyes flicked to his with a sharp gleam. “Finally. Some good fucking news.”

“He’s being transported as we speak. He’ll be in our hands by tomorrow.” Mikhail confirmed.

Viktor gave a single nod, the weight of the day still heavy on his shoulders. Mikhail turned, heading for the door, but paused halfway and glanced back.

Viktor caught the look. “What?” he asked, voice low.

Mikhail smirked faintly. “Nothing. Just… try to get some sleep, boss.”

Viktor arched a brow. “You know that’s not happening.”

Mikhail’s smirk widened a little. “Didn’t think so. You have a woman. See you tomorrow.” Then he disappeared through the door, leaving Viktor alone in the dimly lit room.

♤♤♤

Xena stared blankly at the dark ceiling above her, her body tangled in the sheets, her mind a tangled mess of everything that had happened.

Sleep had completely abandoned her.

Every little moment from earlier kept playing over and over in her head, Marco’s reveal, Viktor’s cold fury, and most of all… that heated, breath-stealing moment they shared.

Her cheeks flushed as the memory hit her again.

That kiss.

The way he held her like he owned her, like the very air she breathed belonged to him.

Groaning softly, she pressed her palm over her face, trying to erase the way her skin still tingled from his touch.

“What was I thinking…” she muttered, her voice muffled. “That was a mistake. A stupid, heart-thudding, breath-snatching mistake…”

But her thoughts betrayed her.

It didn’t feel wrong, though… His lips… Her thighs involuntarily squeezed together at the memory. God… they were soft… but firm. Dangerous. This is the second time.

She groaned again, louder this time, kicking off the blanket in frustration.

“No, stop. I need to stop thinking about this. I need to sleep. I need to find a way to convince him to let me go back to Italy,” she whispered to herself, trying to calm her racing heart.

She had just begun to steady her breathing, her thoughts finally settling into a shaky stillness…

When the door creaked open.

Xena froze, for a moment.

Her heartbeat kicked up again, loud in her ears as she quickly rolled to face the other side, pretending to be asleep.

The room was dim but not completely dark—she could still hear the soft sound of his slow, steady footsteps as they entered, then the gentle click of the door closing behind him.

Viktor stepped inside, his eyes scanning the quiet room until they found her curled form on the bed. Her back was to him, hair spilled over the pillow, her breathing slow and even.

He stood still for a moment, watching.

Then a small smirk ghosted his lips.

She was terrible at pretending.

Without a word, he walked forward, his heavy presence filling the room. The mattress dipped behind her, and Xena's body tensed.

She could feel it, the weight of him, the warmth of him.

He was on the bed.

She clenched the duvet, shut her eyes tighter, forcing her breaths to remain steady, but her pulse was a wild, panicked thing inside her chest.

“You’re terrible at pretending, little fire,” he whispered against her ear, his voice a sinful murmur that made her spine jolt.

Xena shrieked and sat up instantly, turning toward him.

“I… I was sleeping,” she stammered, breathless, her eyes wide and lips parted. She could barely look at him, yet couldn’t look away.

Viktor simply raised a brow and smirked deeper. “Of course you were.”

He leaned forward slowly, the way a predator might when it already knows there’s nowhere left to run.

Xena instinctively pressed her back against the headboard, her fingers clutching the sheets.

But then...

He chuckled.

Softly.

Warmly.

And it threw her completely off guard.

She blinked at him in surprise.

“Relax,” he murmured. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to devour you… not yet.”

His tone was teasing, but underneath it, something darker thrummed. Something possessive. Promising.

“Besides,” he continued, eyes locked on hers, “we have an unfinished task.”

Her lips parted, her breath catching. “What...what task?”

But he didn’t answer.

Instead, he reached forward, gently pulling her closer by her wrist, his touch firm yet careful.

She didn’t resist, though every nerve in her body screamed with tension.

“For now,” he said quietly, “I just want to wrap you in my hands.”

And just like that, he pulled her into his arms, guiding her down with him onto the bed.

The sheets shifted around them as her body molded into his chest, his strong arm sliding around her waist protectively.

She froze again.

Her cheek was resting on his shoulder now. She could hear the faint, slow rhythm of his heartbeat. It was calm. Steady.

Unlike hers.

“Are… are you okay?” she asked softly, her voice barely a whisper against his skin.

Viktor didn’t answer immediately. His fingers gently brushed her back.

“shushh.. I am so tired” he murmured. “Go to sleep… little fire.”

She didn’t know what this was. She didn’t know how to stop it.

But for now… she let it happen.

Because as dangerous as he was…

His arms were the only place that felt safe.