Page 10 of Veil of Shadows

She looks down, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup. “Because if I don’t do this, who will? People deserve justice.”

There’s something raw in her voice that pulls at a part of me I thought was long dead. For a moment, I almost want to help her. But then Lev’s warning echoes in my mind.

“You’re out of your league,” I say. “If you keep pushing, they’ll come for you.”

“I’ll take my chances.” She lifts her chin, eyes steady. “I don’t need your protection, Viktor.”

Her words sting, sharper than I’d like to admit. I lean back, letting out a slow breath. “Fine. But if you’re dead set on this, at least watch your back.”

She gives me a half-smile, almost...grateful. “Thanks for the concern,” she says softly, “but I don’t need a guardian angel.”

We sit in silence, the air between us thick with unspoken words. For the first time in years, I feel something crack inside me, something I thought I’d buried.

But Alyssa doesn’t wait for me to figure it out. She stands, tossing a few bills on the table. “I’ll find my own answers,” she says, turning on her heel and walking out.

I watch her go, that same feeling of inevitability gnawing at my gut. She’s a threat, yes—but she’s also the closest thing I’ve felt to alive in years.

And that terrifies me more than anything else.

Chapter Seven – Alyssa

It’s late—too late for Viktor Volkov to be here. But there he stands, leaning casually in the doorway of my apartment, his dark silhouette stark against the warm glow of my living room. His presence fills the space, quiet yet heavy, like a storm waiting to break.

I straighten my back, forcing myself to meet his gaze. His eyes—dark and cold—seem to dissect me, layer by layer, as if I’m a puzzle he’s determined to solve. I swallow hard, keeping my expression steady even though my heart hammers against my ribs.

“Alyssa.” His voice is smooth, almost a whisper, but it carries a weight that makes my breath hitch.

“What do you want, Viktor?” I ask, trying to sound confident, though my pulse quickens. My hands clench at my sides to keep them from trembling.

He steps forward, slow and deliberate. The soft thud of his boots on my floor seems to echo, each step a countdown. “I think you already know why I’m here.”

“I don’t need threats from the Bratva,” I fire back, letting my anger spill over. It’s easier than acknowledging the chill crawling up my spine. “I’m not dropping this investigation just because you say so.”

A shadow of a smirk dances on his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You really have no idea what you’re up against, do you?”

I cross my arms, lifting my chin. “Then why don’t you enlighten me?”

The smirk fades, replaced by something darker. In an instant, he’s in front of me, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from his body. His scent—leather, spice, and something uniquely him—wraps around me, making it hard to think straight.

“Walk away, Alyssa.” His voice is a low growl, almost a plea, though his grip on control is ironclad. “You don’t belong in this world.”

I let out a hollow laugh, though there’s nothing funny about the way my pulse races. “You think I can just walk away? Pretend I haven’t uncovered things that lead straight to you?”

For a moment, his mask slips. There’s a flash of something—regret, maybe, or something deeper—but it’s gone before I can be sure. His jaw tightens, eyes hardening again.

“You’re stepping into quicksand,” he says, voice rougher now. “The kind you can’t crawl out of once you’re in.”

“Maybe.” I can’t stop the tremor in my voice, but I refuse to back down. “But I’m not scared of you, Viktor. Not enough to stop.”

His eyes darken, and for a split second, I see something raw in them—something that sends a shiver down my spine. He moves closer, his fingers brushing against my arm, sending a jolt through me. I tell myself it’s from anger, but the heat pooling in my chest tells a different story.

“You’re stubborn,” he murmurs, almost to himself. His thumb traces a slow circle on my wrist, and I hate how my breath catches. “So reckless.”

“Determined,” I snap back, stepping closer until our breaths mingle. The air between us is thick, heavy with something unspoken.

His eyes flick to my lips, then back to my eyes. He’s so close now I can feel his breath, warm and unsteady. For a moment, neither of us moves. His hand slides to my waist, fingers pressing in, not quite gentle, not quite rough.

“You think I won’t hurt you?” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear.

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