Of course he is.
People underestimate Viktor. They see the jokes, the easy charm, and assume he’s the least dangerous of us. They’re wrong. He’s the one who manages our finances, who knows where every dollar goes, and who owes what to whom. That kind of knowledge is its own weapon. And when Alexei needs something handled quietly, permanently—Viktor doesn’t hesitate.
If Alexei gave the order, and Viktor is on it, Nowak’s already a ghost.
I close my eyes for a moment. “He’s wanted to handle something like this for years.”
Alexei’s tone shifts—dry, but faintly amused. “You should’ve seen his face when I said yes. He smiled. Actually smiled.”
“Then it’s done.”
Alexei doesn’t answer, and that silence tells me everything.
I open my eyes again, meeting his gaze. “What about Sergei’s story?”
His expression hardens. “You mean his claim that he was our brother?”
“Yeah.”
He exhales slowly and takes the seat beside my bed. “It’s possible. The timeline fits. Father knew his mother before he married ours. But he never said anything. Never saw Yuri treat Sergei any differently than anyone else under him.”
I study him quietly. “You’ve already checked.”
“Of course.” His jaw flexes. “Background shows Sergei was in the foster system from age five. His mother disappeared—no trace, no report, nothing. That’s around the time Father married Mother.”
He pauses, his gaze distant for a moment. “It would be like our father to make someone disappear if it suited him. But whether he killed her, or whether Sergei just built that story to survive…I don’t know.”
I let out a breath, slow and rough. “You’re running a DNA test?”
He nods. “Should have results in a few weeks.”
Silence stretches between us. The kind that hums with too many memories.
Alexei looks down at the floor, voice low. “He wasn’t just an employee to me, Dimitri. He was… close. I trusted him. And that’s on me.”
I shift my hand slightly, pain tugging at the movement. “He made his choice.”
“So did we,” Alexei says quietly.
He looks at Mireille, still asleep beside me, and his voice softens just a little. “You should know—she never left. Sat there for two days straight. Refused to go home, refused to eat in the cafeteria, refused everything. The nurses finally stopped trying.”
That pulls a faint smile from me. “Sounds like her.”
“She loves you,” he says simply. “And you’re lucky. Not many people would choose to stay in a world like ours.”
I stare at her, my chest tightening. “Yeah. I know.”
Alexei stands, straightening his jacket. “Rest. Viktor will call when it’s done.”
“Alexei.”
He pauses at the door.
“Thank you,” I say.
He nods once, his expression unreadable. “Don’t make a habit of getting shot. I’m not sure I’d survive having to explain it to Mireille.” A ghost of a smile lifts his lips.
He’s almost through the door when his phone buzzes. He glances at the screen, frowns, then looks back at me. “Viktor,” he says simply. “I’ll take this outside.”
