Page 3 of Scorch

“Lydia!” A sharp voice came from several paces ahead where a tall woman with her hair in a merciless bun at the nape of her neck marched over to them. Snickers erupted all around them as she approached. “Come here at once.”

Viktor's gaze hardened. Lydia might have stood up to him today, but it left her more vulnerable than ever to the cruelty of her classmates. His protective instinct, already fiercely attuned to her, flared. He could not stand by while she was mocked and isolated.

Stepping forward, his presence immediately silenced the group. His voice, when he spoke, was low but carried an unmistakable threat. “You find something funny? Maybe you'd like to share the joke with me.”

The snickers died in their throats. Lydia, her gaze flicking briefly from the teacher heading her way then to Viktor, seemed to straighten even more, her eyes meeting his with a silent thank you that said she knew, at least for today, she wasn’t alone against them.

No words passed between them, only a quiet understanding before her teacher reached her.

“This is the last straw, Miss Ivanova,” the woman said severely. “But soon you’ll be no bother to me. Perhaps your father will tell you of his recent decision and how it impacts your attendance here.”

Lydia stared and paled. “They were?—”

“I don’t care what they were doing,” the teacher dismissed.

Viktor kept careful note of all of them. The tall, pompous football player. The stuck-up blonde. The critical teacher.

They would all pay, and he would take his sweet time making it hurt.

“What are you talking about?” Lydia marched after the teacher. Her bag was slightly open, and a few papers and a slim, well-worn paperback book fell to the ground. Viktor bent and picked them up, but when he went to give them to her, she was gone.

Her classmates scattered like scared little ants.

He tucked the book under his arm and headed to meet Kolya and face the consequences of being late.

He came the next day.

And the next.

And the next.

But she never returned.

CHAPTER ONE

Present day

Viktor

“Name a price,” Mikhail says. “I owe you, Viktor. It’s time.”

My oldest brother and pakhan Mikhail looks at me over the fuzzy head of his sleeping son and says, “I am indebted to you for everything.”

I shake my head slightly, dismissing the weight of his gratitude. “You don't owe me. I did what I had to do. I did what you needed me to do. It was crucial that I take care of what's yours because we're family, and you know that.” I pop the top of a beer and drink half of it in a few gulps.

I look out into the dark blue-black haze of a late September evening, the lights of the city twinkling in the distance from our vantage point in The Cove. We’ve had a tumultuous few months with a brief pause for our brother Nikko’s wedding, but now it’s time for us to continue to make our moves. We’ve made great strides here, and it’s time we kick things up.

Since our father’s death, we’ve been doing everything in our power to strengthen our ties and put down roots as the most powerful family in The Cove, nestled between Coney Island and Manhattan.

Every day that passes counts. Every strategic move a power play.

Mikhail’s voice grows softer, more earnest. “You saved my wife’s life, Viktor.” Mikhail loves his wife Aria with all his heart, and on more than one occasion, she’s been in grave danger. I’m not the only one who’s protected her. We all have. It’s what we do.

I shift in my seat, feeling the unease settle over me. “Family does for family. You’d have done the same for me,” I respond, my eyes briefly meeting his before settling on the infant. “Just make sure you keep them safe. That’s all I ask.”

The room falls silent, the magnitude of my request left lingering. Mikhail nods, his expression solemn. “I will. And anything you need, Viktor, it’s yours. You name it.”

The other brothers present—Lev, our younger brother and Aleksandr, second in command to Mikhail—listen intently to our conversation. I can sense Lev getting restless beside me, tapping his foot as if he’s holding himself back from interrupting.

---