Page 24 of Veil of Shadows

As I make my way to the door, I can feel the tension coiling in my muscles, ready for action. I push the door open cautiously, stepping into the hallway and scanning my surroundings. The air is thick with uncertainty, and I can’t shake the feeling that something is off.

I move stealthily down the hall, instincts honed from years of training kicking in. The noise had come from somewhere nearby, and I’m determined to find the source before it reaches Alyssa.

Suddenly, a figure emerges from the shadows, and I feel my heart race. The dim lighting obscures their features, but the way they move suggests danger. Without thinking, I step forward, ready to confront whatever threat lies ahead.

“Who’s there?” I call out, my voice steady and commanding.

The figure halts, the tension in the air palpable. “Just a friend, Viktor,” a familiar voice taunts, and I immediately tense. It’s not just any friend; it’s Anton, a rival from the Bratva, known for his ruthlessness and unpredictability.

“What are you doing here?” I demand, every instinct screaming at me to prepare for a fight.

Anton smirks, taking a step closer. “I heard you’ve been getting cozy with the enemy. Thought I’d drop by for a little chat.”

The threat in his voice sends a jolt of adrenaline through me. “You shouldn’t be here,” I warn, readying myself for whatever he has planned. “This is not a game, Anton.”

“Oh, but it is, Viktor,” he replies, his smile widening. “You’ve always been so serious. Maybe it’s time to lighten up.”

Before I can react, he lunges at me, and the fight ignites. I dodge to the side, adrenaline surging through my veins as I grapple with him. He’s fast and strong, but I’m fueled by a protective instinct that overrides everything else.

We clash, fists flying as I push him back, every punch fueled by the urgency of my need to protect Alyssa. He retaliates, a strike connecting with my jaw, but I shake it off, focusing on the mission at hand.

I can’t let him reach her.

The fight intensifies, each movement a flurry of aggression and determination. I can feel the heat of the moment pushing me beyond my limits, the fear of what could happen to Alyssa driving me forward.

With one swift motion, I tackle Anton to the ground, pinning him down. “You don’t know what you’re messing with,” I hiss, my face inches from his.

He struggles beneath me, but I hold him down, determination coursing through me. “You need to back off, Anton. This is your last warning.”

He chuckles, a low, mocking sound that grates against my nerves. “You think you can just walk away from the Bratva? You think they’ll let you take her and run?”

In that moment, the reality of my situation hits me like a punch to the gut. I can feel the weight of my decisions crashing down, but I refuse to let fear dictate my actions.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” I growl, tightening my grip on him. “I won’t let you or anyone else hurt her.”

Anton’s expression shifts, amusement giving way to a glimmer of respect. “You’ve changed, Viktor. I always knew you had it in you, but this… this is different.”

I don’t give him the satisfaction of a response, pushing him harder into the ground. “Get out of my way, or I swear I’ll make you regret it.”

He chuckles again, but there’s a glint in his eye. “I’d like to see you try. Just remember, Viktor, you can’t run from the past. It always catches up.”

I feel the weight of his words settle like lead in my chest, but I refuse to let him win. I push him away, letting him scramble to his feet.

“Next time, it won’t be so easy,” I warn, knowing that this confrontation isn’t over. I turn on my heel, rushing back toward Alyssa’s apartment, every instinct screaming at me to protect her at all costs.

When I reach the door, I find it ajar, and panic floods my system. “Alyssa!” I call, rushing inside.

The apartment is empty, the silence deafening, and my heart races as I scan the room for any sign of her. “Alyssa!” I shout again, dread curling in my stomach.

But there’s no answer.

I move through the apartment, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I check the bathroom, the bedroom—nothing. Just silence, stretching out like a chasm. I can’t shake the feeling that something is very wrong.

Just then, I hear a noise from the kitchen, and I rush toward it, ready for anything.

“Alyssa!” I call out again, pushing through the doorway.

And there she stands, holding a kitchen knife, eyes wide with fear.

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