Page 78 of Imperfect Desires

Viktor answers on the first ring. "You have something?"

"Carlos Mendes," I say. "He's the one who took her."

Silence stretches. Not because he doubts me—but because he remembers. Just like I do.

"You're sure?" he asks finally, voice low.

"Positive. I've got the link. I've got the pattern. He's back. And he's not hiding."

There's another pause. Then Viktor exhales. "I should tell you to wait."

I wait for the rest. The order. The command.

But it doesn’t come.

"But I know you won’t," he finishes. "So just... be careful. This isn’t just any job, Lev. This is a vendetta. You go in hot, you might not come out."

"Then I go in smart," I say.

"And bring her back."

My grip tightens around the phone.

"I will."

Then I hang up and head for the door.

Back at my penthouse, I toss the photo of the SUV on the table again, this time with purpose. The name Mendes buzzes in my skull like a wasp trapped under glass.

He didn’t just disappear. He’s been lurking. Waiting.

And now he’s made his move.

I lean over the table, gripping its edges as I stare at the evidence. My war board doesn’t feel so chaotic anymore—it’s starting to take shape. The fog is lifting.

If Mendes is the one who took Alina… this isn’t random. This isn’t just some revenge play for old scars.

It’s personal.

He always resented Viktor. Always wanted more power. Mendes was the kind of man who smiled at you while stabbing you in the back, biding his time, collecting names like trophies.

And Alina?

She’s not just leverage. She’s a trophy. A symbol. A prize he thinks he can take to reclaim power he was never good enough to earn.

He sees her as his key—his gateway into the world he could never break into. The Bratva. The power. The legacy.

But he made one mistake.

He took what’s mine.

And that? That makes this war.

I pull out my phone and call Anton. “Warehouse Seven. Meet me in one hour,” I say. My voice is low, steady. The kind of calm that comes before the storm.

“No questions?”

“No need,” he replies.

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