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25

Viktor

I sit at my desk, the faint glow of the desk lamp casting shadows across the polished surface. Lev and Zasha stand in their usual positions, like sentinels, their expressions unreadable but their body language taut. The room is silent, thick with anticipation as they wait for me to speak. My fingers drum softly against the wood, the rhythm the only sound, and even that seems to echo louder than usual. Scarlett's future weighs heavily on my mind, and the question of what comes next looms like a storm cloud over us all.

Lev is the first to break the silence, as he often does. His voice is direct, cutting through the tension like a blade.

“So, what’s the plan for Scarlett after the baby comes?” His gaze meets mine, steady and unflinching. “We can’t keep her in limbo forever. There has to be a clear path forward.”

His words settle heavily in the air, and I know he’s right. Scarlett deserves stability, and so do my unborn children.

Zasha steps forward slightly, his expression more concerned than confrontational.

“Co-parenting isn’t an option,” he says, his voice low but firm. “This isn’t just about her or you. They will always be a target if they’re not under your constant protection. Keeping them safe means they stay with you. Always.”

His loyalty is evident, and the earnestness in his tone tells me this is more than a tactical observation—it’s personal.

I nod slowly, letting their words sink in before leaning back in my chair. My decision is clear, and now it’s time to voice it.

“I’m going to marry her.” My tone is calm and unyielding.

Lev and Zasha exchange a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the magnitude of my decision. The weight of my words settles over the room like a heavy shroud.

Lev nods first, his expression softening slightly. “The future pakhansha ,” he says with a small smile, the term carrying both respect and finality.

The atmosphere shifts subtly. They understand what this means—not just for Scarlett, but for the Bratva as a whole.

“Does she know about this plan of yours?” Zasha’s voice breaks the moment, his tone cautious. “Because from what I’ve seen, she’s not exactly thrilled with us—or you, for that matter.”

His words hit a nerve, though I don’t show it. Scarlett’s animosity toward me is understandable, even warranted.

“She doesn’t know yet,” I admit, my voice tinged with irritation. “And her hostility? That’s on us—on me. She didn’t ask for any of this.”

The admission stings, but it’s the truth. Scarlett has every right to be furious.

Lev chuckles softly, his attempt to lighten the mood not lost on me. “Well, boss, if her glares could kill, we’d all be six feet under. But at least she seems to tolerate you more than the rest of us.”

A small smirk tugs at my lips despite myself. Scarlett’s fire is undeniable; somehow, it only draws me closer.

I rise from my chair, my mind resolute. “I’ll handle it.”

With that, I stride out of the office, my steps purposeful. The corridor stretches ahead, and with each step, my determination solidifies. Scarlett deserves to know, and I need to face whatever storm she’s about to unleash.

When I enter my suite, Scarlett is sitting on the single rocking chair, holding a book. She’s so absorbed that she doesn’t notice me at first, her expression relaxed and unguarded. It’s a rare sight, and for a moment, I hesitate.

“Hey, Scar,” I say, my voice breaking the quiet.

Her head snaps up, her eyes narrowing slightly as she sets the book aside. She sits straighter, her curiosity quickly giving way to guarded caution.

“Yes?” she asks, her tone clipped but not entirely hostile.

I take a deep breath, keeping my voice steady. “We need to talk. I’ve made a decision.”

Her brow furrows, and the way she studies me makes it clear she’s bracing for whatever comes next. “What decision?”

“We’re getting married,” I say plainly, my tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Her eyes widen in disbelief, and then she laughs—a short, bitter sound. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she says, crossing her arms. “You kidnap me, lock me up, tell me I belong to you, and now you think I’m going to marry you? What’s next? A white picket fence?”

“I’ve told you before; I am not yours for the taking.”

“This isn’t a request, Scarlett,” I reply, my voice firm but not unkind. “It’s about protecting you and our child. Marriage ensures that protection.”

She glares at me, her defiance blazing. “So, this is about control, then? About making sure I can’t go anywhere?”

“No,” I say, meeting her gaze. “It’s about making sure you live.”

Her resolve falters, the weight of my words sinking in. She looks away, her fingers curling into fists. The silence stretches, heavy with tension and unspoken emotions.

Finally, she slumps slightly, her expression a mix of anger and resignation. “This is insane,” she mutters, tears falling down her eyes. “How did I end up like this?” She sniffles.

Her reaction, while understandable, is bruising on my ego. “I am not asking you to marry the devil himself.”

“And what is the difference?” She fires back in anger. “At least with him. I would be sure of what I am getting.”

Well, now I know she truly hates me. But why does that disturb me?

After a while, she wipes her tears and looks me dead in the eyes. “I will not marry you. I do not want to marry you.”

“This is not about what you or I want. It is a matter of necessity now,” I reply, my voice softer.

I leave the room without another word, the tension lingering in the air. Behind me, I hear Scarlett sigh—a sound of defeat and frustration. The storm isn’t over, but at least the first move has been made.