Page 26 of Imperfect Desires

I press my lips together.

It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. Lev made it clear a long time ago that I was off-limits. I’ve moved on, I’ve outgrown the silly crush I had on him, and I’m over it. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

"I’m not a child anymore, Yelena."

"No," she agrees. "You’re not."

But I feel like one the moment I think of Lev. I close my eyes. My pulse hammers painfully beneath my skin. Viktor’s return warms me, yet anxiety coils tightly at the thought of Lev inevitably returning to my life. I’m caught between longing and dread, between happiness and apprehension.

Lev may be coming here, and I’m not ready for it.

9

Lev

We have just finished stashing away some ammo delivery when Viktor’s phone begins to ring. The device rings twice before Viktor answers it.

“Hello?” His voice is calm—too calm.

Zasha and I sit across from him in the dim light of the secured warehouse. I’m halfway through nursing a glass of whiskey when Viktor suddenly stiffens.

My gaze sharpens instantly.

“What happened?” Viktor’s tone is flat, but I can see it—the subtle tightening of his jaw, the sudden rigidness in his posture.

Then I hear it—a shaky breath coming from the other end of the line. A fractured voice.

Alina’s voice.

I ignore the skip in my heartbeat.

“Papa’s dead.” I hear her say, and I sit up straight.

“What?” Viktor’s voice drops an octave. “He left here a few hours ago.”

I hear the strained sound of Alina attempting to speak. “He was attacked when he landed and did not make it out alive.”

Her voice breaks on the last word.

Viktor’s expression doesn’t shift. He’s completely still, but I see it in his eyes. The darkness that slides into them.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Nikolai already confirmed it. Viktor, you need to come home.”

“I’m on my way,” Viktor says tightly, and the line goes dead.

Viktor sets the phone down. Slowly, and I already know what’s coming.

“My father is dead,” Viktor says, standing. His voice is emotionless. Controlled. But I know him too well. He’s seething beneath the surface.

“How?” Zasha asks.

“An ambush.”

I feel something dark coil in my chest.

Zasha curses under his breath. “A direct hit?”

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