Page 22

22

Viktor

The low hum of the private jet fills the cabin as I send a quick message to Scarlett to let her know that we have taken off. Her simple response of ‘okay’ weighs heavily on my chest. She has always expressed her aversion to how I have handled Alina’s situation, and now I see she has been right. A familiar yet hollow noise amplifies my unease. I sit stiffly, staring blankly at the polished surface of the table in front of me, replaying every painful detail from the airport in my mind.

Alina’s pale face, the red-rimmed eyes, the raw vulnerability in her voice as she whispered, "I'm scared." The memory makes my jaw clench tightly, teeth grinding in frustration. I've always prided myself on control, on the unwavering strength that has made our family untouchable. But right now, that control feels tenuous at best.

Across from me, Zasha shifts slightly in his seat, drawing my gaze. His sharp eyes study me quietly, always perceptive, always calm. He's been my voice of reason through countless storms, and right now, I need that clarity more than ever.

"You're quiet," Zasha finally says, his voice low, cautious.

I exhale slowly, leaning back against the leather seat. "Thinking."

He nods once, a subtle gesture filled with understanding. He doesn't press further, giving me the space I need to gather my chaotic thoughts.

The truth is, Alina’s suffering blindsided me. Seeing her hunched over in that airport bathroom, trembling and fragile, struck me harder than any bullet could. For weeks, I'd let anger cloud my judgment, fury at Lev's betrayal overshadowing everything else. But Alina... She was never supposed to get caught in the crossfire.

The guilt coils tighter inside me, relentless, suffocating. My little sister deserves better than the pain I've allowed her to endure. It's clear now—I have to face this head-on. Lev may have crossed a line, but he's also the man my sister loves, the father of her unborn child.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, battling the headache that pulses behind my eyes. "When we get back," I say slowly, forcing myself to speak clearly, "I need to talk to Lev."

Zasha watches me silently for a long moment before nodding in agreement. "It's the right thing to do."

His simple affirmation eases a fraction of the tension in my chest. If Zasha agrees, I'm on the right path. His instincts have always proven flawless.

As we approach our landing zone, my pilot radios the tower to request clearance for landing, but is denied due to visibility issues. At two hundred feet, he still cannot see the runway and is advised to discontinue the approach and instead head to Pulkovo, St. Petersburg.

The jet finally touches down smoothly, jolting me from my thoughts. Outside the window, the familiar skyline is gray and somber, perfectly mirroring my mood. My hand instinctively reaches for my phone and dials Scarlett’s number—her voice, calm and gentle, answers on the third ring.

"Hey," she breathes softly. "Are you okay?"

Just hearing her voice grounds me, providing a brief reprieve from the storm inside. "I’m fine," I lie, swallowing the anxiety in my throat. "How are the kids?"

"Missing you," she replies warmly. "They are right here in bed with me.” “How about you?”

“How about me what?”

“Are you missing me?”

“I am still too mad to miss you.” She sounds unhappy. “I can’t believe you are allowing Alina to live out the rest of her life alone. You are practically ostracizing her and her baby from the rest of the family.”

Her words pierce my chest like a blade. “I know I've been narrow-minded about this situation, but I will make it up to Alina when I return.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning the reason I asked her to remain in New York is so that we can work this out.”

Scarlett’s silence stretches out a fraction too long, instantly alarming me. "Scarlett?"

"Viktor," she hesitates, a note of fear creeping into her voice, "Alina isn't here. She left with you and never returned to the house."

My heart slams violently against my ribs, panic flooding through me. "Check her room," I command tightly. "Maybe she's there, resting."

"I'll check now." Scarlett’s voice trembles slightly, mirroring my sudden dread.

The phone line fills with silence. Seconds tick by, torturous and slow, each heartbeat pounding louder in my ears. My mind races, conjuring horrifying scenarios. Alina is pregnant and vulnerable. If something were to happen—

Scarlett’s voice returns, wavering. "She's not here, Viktor. She didn't come home."

My body floods with ice, chilling me to my core. "I'll handle it. Stay calm. I'll call you back."

I disconnect immediately, barking orders into another call, mobilizing every available man in New York to search the city. My pulse thunders in my ears, adrenaline sharpening my focus.

Zasha stands nearby, concern evident on his normally composed face. "What's happening?"

"Alina never arrived home," I reply, my voice harsh and clipped.

Zasha’s eyes narrow sharply. "Taken?"

"I don’t know yet," I admit, pacing quickly across the tarmac. "But something’s wrong. I feel it."

He steps closer, his voice firm. "We’ll find her."

I nod once, frustration and fear battling fiercely inside me. I glare at the darkening horizon, wishing desperately that Zasha was back in New York. He would have launched an immediate search for her himself.

Damn it all to hell. I feel handicapped.

Then, suddenly, clarity breaks through my panic. Lev. If anyone is capable of tearing New York apart brick by brick to find Alina, it’s Lev. No one else would be as relentless, brutal, and determined as a man in love.

I stop abruptly, turning sharply toward Zasha. "Lev," I say urgently, realization crystallizing in my mind. "He'll find her."

Zasha’s expression hardens into determined resolve. "Then we get him back."

"Immediately," I agree firmly, reaching again for my phone. My hands tremble slightly, a reaction I refuse to acknowledge as fear. Right now, Lev isn’t the enemy. He's Alina’s lifeline. He’s her only chance.

Without hesitation, I dial Lev’s number. It rings only twice before a deep, cautious voice answers.

"Boss?"

"Lev," I say, voice steel-hard, unwavering. "Alina is missing."

A stunned silence stretches heavily over the line. I hear Lev’s breathing quicken sharply, and desperation clears in his voice as he finally responds, hoarse and raw. "What happened? Where is she?"

"I don't know. She disappeared after I sent her back from the airport," I reply, each word biting sharply. "Lev, there’s something else."

"What?" Lev demands roughly, tension thickening his tone.

I know he shouldn’t find out like this, but I fucking need him to understand the urgency of the situation. "She’s pregnant." My voice drops, almost gentle. "And it’s yours."

Lev’s sharp inhale is audible, filled with shock and pain. The raw agony in his voice reveals everything I need to know—his love for Alina is genuine, and at this moment, he’s more desperate than I am.

"I'll find her," Lev vows harshly, each word a deadly promise. "Nothing will stop me."

The call ends abruptly, leaving me standing rigidly in the cold evening air. The wind bites sharply, yet I barely notice. My fists clench at my sides, determination surging within me, overpowering every fear and doubt.

Whoever took Alina just unleashed hell. Lev is coming for her. And so am I.