I promised her together.
Then I broke it. And if I live through this, I’m going to spend the rest of my life making it up to her.
The steel door at the top of the stairs scrapes open. Sound carries weirdly in basements—every footfall is amplified into something ceremonial.
Slow.
Deliberate.
A performance.
The guards speak first. “Boss.”
My spine goes rigid. Because I’ve never met Viktor Luka in person. But I’ve seen the photos in our compiled threat documents. I’ve studied the face. The history. The pattern of blood and bribery he leaves behind like a signature.
He descends the stairs with the confidence of a man who’s never been told no in a way that stuck.
Mid-forties, maybe. Broad shoulders beneath a tailored coat. Salt-and-pepper hair slicked back with too much product. A heavy ring on one hand that looks like it could crack bones.
He’s accompanied by two men who look like paid violence.
Viktor stops three feet from me and looks me over like I’m a purchase he’s considering returning. Then he laughs. Low and delighted. “Ah,” he says, voice rich with amusement. “My new guest.”
I force a smile through split lips. “Your hospitality sucks.”
“That’s what I’m told.” He steps closer, crouching a little to bring us eye level. “You know, you made this very easy for me.”
“Happy to help,” I rasp.
He grins. “Don’t be modest. Men like you never are.”
His gaze flicks to my wrists, the ties, the chair.
“Knight,” he says, like savoring the word. “The internet’s little boogeyman.”
“I prefer ‘problem.’”
“Oh, you are.” He straightens, casually dusting nonexistent lint from his sleeve. “But you’re also… useful.”
“Let me guess,” I say. “You want me to join your loyalty program.”
“I want you to do exactly what you already do.” He spreads his hands. “Attract attention. Force movement. Summon heroes.”
My stomach goes cold. That’s not a threat. That’s a strategy.
“I’m not a beacon,” I say.
He chuckles. “Every decent trap needs bait. You’re excellent bait.”
I test the zip ties subtly, looking for slack. There’s none.
“You came into my house,” Viktor says softly. “You crawled straight into my walls. I could almost admire it.”
“Try harder,” I say.
He laughs again. Then his expression shifts—something darker and more satisfied. “Here’s the part you haven’t figured out yet,” he says.
I don’t respond.
