Page 29 of His Grip

Shit. He couldn’t afford to think about her now—not when there was a war brewing in the distance.

“There are plans in place. Don’t worry, Sergei.”

Sergei gave a curt nod. “You must feel like you can’t trust anyone right now, and that’s… right. That’s what I taught you, Viktor. Never trust anyone, not even me.”

Viktor sighed and rubbed the circles under his eyes. “It’s just a matter of time before?—”

The door burst open suddenly, and Andrei rushed in, heaving as if he’d run a great distance.

“What the hell is it?” Viktor growled.

Andrei’s expression hardened. “We just got word from Konstantin. Ivan has been taken. They think it’s Alexei. His men came to take him this morning.”

The room seemed to tilt, the words hitting Viktor like a hammer. Ivan was untouchable. He was Sofia’s brother, and Viktor knew she loved him completely. Losing Ivan would destroy her—and by extension, it could shatter Viktor’s already precarious hold over her.

“Do we know where they’ve taken him?” A cold, calculated tone permeated Viktor’s speech.

“Not yet,” Andrei admitted, looking between Viktor and Sergei. “They covered their tracks well. But we’re working on it.”

Viktor turned back toward the dresser, his grip tensing on its edge. A storm brewed in his chest, anger mixing with something far more dangerous: fear. Losing Ivan wasn’t an option—not for Sofia’s sake and not for his own.

“And Sofia?” Viktor asked, his voice deceptively calm.

“She knows,” Andrei said, his hesitation clear. “She overheard the men talking. She wants to help with the rescue.”

Of course, she did.

“She’s insistent,” Andrei continued. “And I don’t think she’s going to back down.”

Viktor let out a harsh laugh. “She thinks she can just waltz into this mess and fix it?”

“She’s her father’s daughter,” Sergei pointed out. “She’s not going to sit this out, Viktor.”

Viktor ran a hand down his face, exhaling slowly. The thought of Sofia putting herself in Alexei’s path was unbearable. He didn’t know what was worse: the risk to her life or the realization that he couldn’t stomach it.

“Keep her out of it,” Viktor said sharply. “This isn’t her fight.”

“With all due respect, I don’t think she sees it that way,” Andrei said. “This is her brother we’re talking about.”

Viktor froze. The reminder hit him harder than he expected. He was family—her last tie to a world she didn’t want but couldn’t escape.

“She’s not going anywhere near this,” Viktor said, his tone firm.

“And if she doesn’t listen?” Andrei asked.

Viktor’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Then I’ll make her listen.”

But even as the words left his mouth, Viktor wasn’t sure he believed them. Sofia had proven time and again that she was a force of nature, unwilling to bend or break. Keeping her out of this would be harder than anything Alexei could throw at him.

Viktor moved swiftly to the adjoining study, Sergei trailing behind him. The room was a stark contrast to the grandiosity of the rest of the penthouse—utilitarian and cold, filled with maps, blueprints, and an array of weapons meticulously arranged along one wall. It was his command center, his sanctuary, and now it would serve as the nerve center for Ivan’s rescue.

“Give me the details,” Viktor said, pulling out a chair and sitting before the large table in the center.

Andrei advanced, placing a tablet in front of him. “We’ve narrowed down the possible locations to three sites Alexei’s menhave been known to use for operations like this. A warehouse in Red Hook, a dockyard in Staten Island, and an abandoned textile factory in Queens. All are heavily guarded.”

Viktor’s sharp eyes scanned the screen, absorbing every detail. Each location presented its challenges, but the dockyard stood out. The access points were limited, making it the most defensible position—a place Alexei would favor.

“Focus on the dockyard,” Viktor said. “Get eyes on it. Drones, surveillance—whatever it takes. I want to know how many men we’re dealing with, their rotation schedules, and the weak points in their perimeter.”

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