SEBASTIAN’S POV
The ride back to the city was silent, the only sound was the hum of the engine and the occasional crackle of the radio.
My mind was racing, piecing together fragments of information, trying to make sense of the puzzle.
The engraving on the watch. The deliberate ransacking of the house. The faint metallic scent of blood. None of it was random. This was personal.
Back at the safehouse, the analysis of the watch didn’t take long. My men were efficient, and within the hour, I had my answer.
“It belongs to someone in the Montenegro faction,” Marco, my most trusted lieutenant, informed me, handing me a tablet with the details.
“Specifically, to a man named Viktor Reznov.”
Reznov. The name hit me like a punch to the gut. Memories flooded back-violent, bloody memories of a rivalry that had spanned years. Reznov wasn’t just any enemy.
He was a ghost, a shadow in the dark, always one step ahead. We had clashed before, and while I had thought him eliminated, it seemed I was wrong.
I studied the file, my eyes scanning every detail, every line of text. Reznov had been quiet for years, his faction seemingly dissolved.
But now, he is back. And he wasn’t just targeting me-he was sending a message.
“He’s making a move,” I said, my voice low and deadly. “And he’s not being subtle about it.”
“What’s the plan?” Marco asked, his tone cautious.
I looked up from the tablet, my jaw set. “Find him. Find his hideout, his base of operations, every goddamn place he’s been hiding. I want him dragged out of whatever hole he’s been crawling in.”
Marco nodded, already pulling out his phone to relay the orders. “We’ll have our informants start digging. If Reznov resurfaces, someone will know.”
As Marco left the room, I leaned back in my chair, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Reznov wasn’t just another enemy.
He was calculated, ruthless, and dangerously unpredictable. This wasn’t just about power or territory-this was personal.
I pulled out my phone and stared at the screen for a moment before dialing a number. The line rang twice before a familiar voice answered.
“Sebastian,” Sasha’s voice was soft, comforting, a stark contrast to the chaos swirling around me.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly, cutting off her inevitable question. “I just needed to hear your voice.”
There was a pause, and I could almost picture the concern etched across her face. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing you need to worry about,” I said, my tone firm but gentle. “I’ll handle it.”
“You always say that,” she replied, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice.
“And I always mean it,” I countered.
Another pause. Then, “Just… be careful.”
“I will,” I promised.
After hanging up, I stood and walked to the window, staring out at the city lights. Reznov had made his move, and now it was my turn.
But this wasn’t just about revenge. This was about protecting everything I had built, everything I cared about.
SASHA’S POV
The plate of food sat untouched on the small table in the corner of the room, mocking me with its tantalizing aroma.
The faint scent of herbs and spices wafted toward me, but I refused to even look at it. Hunger clawed at my insides, but my resolve was stronger. I wouldn’t eat. Not here. Not food prepared by them.
I sat on the edge of the bed, my arms wrapped around my knees, trying to focus on anything other than the gnawing emptiness in my stomach.
The room was stifling, the air thick with the scent of pinewood and faint traces of old paint.
The windows were boarded shut, and the only light came from a dim lamp that flickers occasionally, casting eerie shadows on the walls.
I clenched my jaw, suppressing the wave of frustration that threatened to spill over. How did it come to this?
One moment, I was with Sebastian, feeling safe despite all the chaos surrounding us, and the next, I was here, trapped. Kidnapped. By him. Roland.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway outside snapped me out of my thoughts. They were deliberate, heavy, and heading straight for my door.
My heart raced, but I straightened my back, forcing myself to appear calm. I wouldn’t let him see my fear.
The door creaked open, and there he was. Roland. He stepped inside, his expression is a mix of concern and something far darker.
His sharp features were shadowed under the dim light, but his piercing blue eyes bore into me, searching for… what? Submission? Gratitude? He’d get neither.
“You haven’t eaten,” he said, his voice low and controlled.
I didn’t respond.
Roland closed the door behind him and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest.
His tailored suit was slightly wrinkled, as though he hadn’t rested in days, but his appearance was otherwise pristine-polished shoes, perfectly combed hair. He always cared too much about appearances.
“Sasha,” he said more firmly this time. “I asked why you haven’t eaten.”
I turned my head away, refusing to meet his gaze. Silence was my weapon, and I intended to wield it well.
“Sasha,” he said again, his tone hardening. “You need to eat. Starving yourself won’t change anything.”
Finally, I looked at him, my expression cold. “I’m not eating anything that comes from this place.”
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of frustration. Good. Let him feel it.
“You’re being unreasonable,” he said, taking a step closer.
“Unreasonable?” I scoffed, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve kidnapped me, locked me in this room, and expect me to eat like everything’s fine? Let me go, Roland.”
His expression softened, and he crouched slightly, as if trying to meet me at eye level. “Sasha, I’m doing this for you. For us. You don’t belong with Sebastian. He’s dangerous. He doesn’t deserve you.”
I flinched at the mention of Sebastian, but I quickly masked it. “And you think you do? You think this-kidnapping me, keeping me here against my will-is what I deserve?”
He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I know it’s not ideal”
“Not ideal?” I snapped, standing up and taking a step toward him. “This is sick, Roland! You don’t get to decide where I belong or who I’m with. You’ve crossed a line-one you can’t come back from.”
He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he studied me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. “You don’t understand,” he said softly, almost mournfully.
“I care about you, Sasha. More than you’ll ever know. And I can’t stand the thought of you being with someone like Sebastian. He’ll ruin you.”
“And what do you call this?” I gestured around the room, my voice trembling with anger. “You think this isn’t ruining me? You think I’ll ever forgive you for this?”
His expression darkened, and he straightened to his full height. “I don’t need your forgiveness,” he said coldly.
“I need you to see the reason. Sebastian doesn’t love you. He never could, not the way I do.”
My throat tightened, but I refused to let him see how much his words rattled me. “You don’t love me, Roland. You love the idea of controlling me. That’s not love-it’s obsession.”
His eyes flashed with something dangerous, and he took another step closer. “You can call it whatever you want, Sasha. But you’re not leaving. Not ever. You’re mine now.”