Page 18 of Veil of Shadows

“God, Alyssa,” I murmur, pressing my forehead against hers, breathing in the heady scent of her hair, the taste of her skin lingering on my lips. “I don’t want to stop.”

“Then don’t,” she urges, her voice a sultry whisper, a plea that sends a shockwave through me.

With a swift motion, I stand, lifting her effortlessly as she wraps her legs around my waist. I walk us across the room, the world outside fading into nothing as I reach the door to my office. I can’t think about anything but her, the way her body fits against mine, the way she feels alive in my arms.

I kick the door open, the sound echoing in the silence, and we stumble into the room, our bodies colliding with a force that sends us both to the floor. We land with a soft thud, her body beneath mine, the heat of her skin igniting my senses.

I lean down, capturing her lips again, the kiss growing more urgent, more desperate. The need within me swells, threatening to overwhelm every rational thought. This is what I want—this wild, reckless abandon that leaves us both breathless.

Alyssa pulls me closer, her hands gripping my hair, her nails digging into my scalp as she kisses me back with equal fervor. I can feel the tension building between us, the heat radiating as we lose ourselves in each other.

It’s primal. It’s raw. And it’s everything I’ve been craving.

With every touch, every kiss, we spiral deeper into this wild frenzy of passion. I lose track of time, the outside world fading away as we give in to the chaos. I am no longer Viktor Volkov—the enforcer, the strategist. I am simply a man, consumed by the desire for this woman beneath me.

And as we tumble deeper into this storm of passion, the reality of our world slips away, leaving only the two of us, lost in the heat of the moment, a whirlwind of desire and desperation that feels utterly unstoppable.

Chapter Eleven – Alyssa

The city hums below, a low murmur of distant sirens and faint car horns, but here in my apartment, the air is suffocating, thick with the scent of stale coffee and the heavy weight of anticipation. I’m pacing by the window, the city lights casting a dim glow that dances across my walls. Every nerve feels exposed, raw. I don’t know why, but I sense that tonight is going to be different.

Viktor’s warning from our last encounter replays in my mind, his cold eyes narrowing, a blade disguised as a smile. He’s dangerous, I remind myself for the hundredth time. But beneath that caution, something far worse lurks—a hunger, a desperate ache that won’t leave me alone. I curse myself for even entertaining the thought. I’m not supposed to feel anything for a man like him.

Still, the questions churn in my mind, refusing to settle. Why is he trying so hard to stop me? What does he really want from me? The answers have slipped through my fingers too many times, and I’m done letting him control the narrative. If he shows up tonight, I’ll make him talk.

I rehearse the words in my head, trying to tamp down the flutter in my chest.Why are you here, Viktor? What’s the game you’re playing?Each repetition sounds stronger, more convincing. But underneath, my heart betrays me, thrumming with a reckless thrill. I hate that he does this to me, twists me up inside until I don’t know if I want to punch him or—

A soft creak of the door makes me spin around. The air shifts, electric. And there he is, standing in the doorway like he owns the place. Viktor Coleman, with his storm-cloud eyes and that unshakable confidence that oozes off him like a damn cologne. His tailored coat clings to his broad frame, and his dark hair falls artfully across his brow, as if chaos decided to flirt with perfection tonight.

“Viktor,” I say, and it takes everything in me to keep my voice steady, to not let him hear the way my heart kicks up at the sight of him.

He steps inside without waiting for an invitation, closing the door with a soft click. His eyes roam over the room—taking stock, calculating, before they land on me. The air between us is thick enough to choke on, and I can’t shake the sensation that he’s weighing me, deciding if I’m worth whatever game he’s playing tonight.

“Alyssa,” he says, his voice as smooth and dark as the shadows curling around us. His gaze locks onto mine, a slow burn that sends a shiver racing down my spine.

I cross my arms, trying to ignore the way his eyes track the movement. “What are you doing here?” My voice is sharp, almost accusing. “What do you want from me this time?”

“You think you can just dive into this world without consequences? You’re risking everything, and for what? Some misguided sense of justice?”

“It’s not misguided,” I argue, my anger bubbling back to the surface. “It’s the truth. I have to find out what’s really going on.”

The room is charged with an intensity that borders on violence, a tension that thrums between us, crackling in the air. Viktor’s eyes are dark, narrowed as he looks at me, and there’s a warning there, one that sends a thrill coursing down my spine.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good,” he murmurs, voice thick with frustration, though his gaze betrays a flicker of admiration. He steps closer, invading my space, his presence overwhelming, intoxicating. I should feel fear, but all I feel is a dark excitement, the kind that makes my pulse race.

“Maybe,” I whisper, defiant, challenging him. “But I’m not backing down.”

He laughs, low and dangerous, before his hand darts out, gripping my jaw with a firmness that makes me gasp. “Is that so?” he murmurs, his thumb pressing against my lips, holding me still. “You really want to test me, Alyssa?”

A shiver runs through me, my heart pounding as his grip tightens, and I meet his gaze with a boldness I didn’t know I had. “Yes,” I breathe, my voice barely a whisper.

In a flash, his lips are on mine, his kiss hard, punishing, as though he’s claiming me, branding me as his. His hand moves from my jaw to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair as he tugs me closer, not letting me pull away. I can feel the roughness of his stubble scraping against my skin, adding a delicious edge to the kiss, a reminder of the danger he embodies.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he growls against my mouth, his voice rough, sending a thrill through me.

“Then show me,” I challenge, gasping as he pulls my hair just enough to make me wince, a dark smile curving his lips as he sees my reaction.

Without another word, he spins me around, pressing me against the wall, his body trapping me in place. His hands are on my wrists, pinning them above my head, his grip unyielding, and a pulse of excitement races through me at the way he holds me, at the force of his control.

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