Page 50 of Imperfect Desires

I ignored it.

I fucking ignored it because I trusted Lev. Because I trusted him not to cross that line. And I know the only thing that made him run is because he has crossed it to a point of no return. The betrayal burns beneath my skin like acid.

"Lev knew better."

I rise from my chair and stalk toward the window, my hand dragging through my hair. My reflection stares back at me from the glass—dark eyes, sharp features, the cold cut of my mouth.

Lev has been with me for over two decades. I pulled him out of the gutter. When I met him, he was bleeding in a Colombian basement, a teenager with broken ribs and dead eyes. I dragged him out of that pit, put a gun in his hand, and showed him how to survive.

He’s bled for me and killed for me. I could have forgiven him for almost anything. But not this. He is supposed to be my right hand. My weapon. He’s not supposed to touch my blood. He knows better than anyone that loyalty comes before love. And Lev betrayed me in the worst possible way.

It’s not just about Alina—it’s about what this means for the Bratva. If I let Lev get away with this, it sets a precedent. It tells my men that crossing me has no consequences. That sleeping with my sister is acceptable. And that’s unacceptable. Lev’s betrayal isn’t just personal—it’s political.

The wolves will circle. The Italians. The Irish. The Greeks. They’ll see weakness. They’ll smell blood.

Lev knew this. And he still crossed the line. He put me in this position. And now I have to clean it up. I stare blankly out the window. I should hunt him down. Drag him back here in chains if I have to and make an example of him.

As I consider how best to deal with him, a part of me wonders if Lev thought this was worth dying for. Because that’s precisely what’s going to happen.

The door to my office opens without a knock, and I do not bother to turn around. Only one person would dare to do that.

Scarlett.

She steps inside, the soft sound of her foot against the marble floor barely audible over the tension buzzing in my head. Her hair cascades over her shoulder, her eyes assessing me with quiet intensity.

“You’ve been in here all night,” she says. “It’s almost morning.”

I don’t respond.

Scarlett closes the door behind her and walks toward me, stopping just behind me and wrapping her arms around me from behind.

“I assume you’re brooding over Lev.”

My mouth twists. “He’s not worth my time.”

Scarlett raises an eyebrow. “No? Then why does it look like you’re trying to crush that glass with your bare hand?”

I glance down. My knuckles are white around the whiskey glass, and I force myself to set it down.

Scarlett’s gaze sharpens. “This isn’t just about Lev. This is also about Alina.”

My jaw locks.

“He crossed the line.”

“Did he?” Scarlett steps closer. “Or did his heart push him over it?”

My eyes narrow dangerously. “Careful.”

Scarlett doesn’t flinch.

“Lev loves her, Viktor. And you know it. Heck! Everybody with an eye can see it!”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It matters.”

“Lev knew the consequences,” I say, my voice sharp. “He knew exactly what it would cost him. He still crossed the line.”

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