3

The conversation started easily enough—business, logistics, shipments.

But it wasn’t long before Viktor shifted the tone.

“Tell me,” he said, leaning forward, “what makes you different from the others who come to me with their schemes and empty promises?”

I held his gaze, refusing to blink.

“Because I deliver. And I don’t flinch when things get messy.”

He smiled then, but it wasn’t warm.

It was the kind of smile that made your skin crawl.

“Messy,” he repeated, almost to himself. “I like that.”

8

VIKTOR

She was good.

Very good.

But not perfect.

The way her hands rested too carefully on the table, the slight tension in her jaw when I spoke—it was all there, if you knew where to look.

And I always knew where to look.

“Tell me, Sabrina,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “What’s the worst thing you’ve done?”

Her hesitation was brief, but it was there.

“I don’t dwell on the past,” she said finally.

A practiced answer.

But it wasn’t the answer I wanted.

“You should,” I said. “The past has a way of catching up with us.”

I saw the flicker of something in her eyes—fear, maybe, or recognition.

She thought she was prepared for this, but no one ever was.

“Prove yourself,” I said. “There’s a job I need done. Something… messy.”

She didn’t flinch, didn’t react.

But I could see the gears turning in her head.

“Tell me what you need,” she said.

And just like that, the trap was set.

9

SABRINA

I left the meeting with my pulse racing, my skin damp with sweat.

Viktor’s words echoed in my mind, the weight of his expectations pressing down on me.

The job he’d given me wasn’t just messy—it was horrifying.

He wanted me to eliminate a man who had crossed him, a minor player in his organization.

But it wasn’t the act of killing that disturbed me—it was how he wanted it done.

“Make it slow,” he had said, his voice dripping with sadistic delight. “Make it painful. And bring me proof.”

I’d killed before.

Many times.

But never like this.

Never for someone like him.

Back in my hotel room, I stared at the blade Viktor had given me, its edge glinting in the dim light.

I told myself it was just another mission, just another name on a list.

But deep down, I knew the truth.

This wasn’t about the target.

It was about me.

Viktor was testing me, watching to see how far I’d go, how much of myself I’d sacrifice to survive in his world.

And the worst part?

I wasn’t sure I could pass his test without losing what little humanity I had left.

10

SABRINA

The next day, I went to see Viktor again before I set out to complete my task.

The room was colder than I expected, the kind of chill that burrows into your skin and makes your bones ache.

Viktor stood across from me, shadowed by the low amber light spilling from an ornate chandelier.

His presence filled the space like a silent predator sizing up its prey.

He didn’t speak right away, only stared, his piercing gaze dissecting me with an unnerving calmness.

I kept my posture straight, my face neutral.

Years of training had taught me to mask even the smallest flicker of emotion.

I couldn’t let him see the slightest crack.

The silence stretched between us like a taut rope, ready to snap.

“You’re not like the others,” Viktor finally said, his voice deep and deliberate, every syllable a command.

I forced a faint smile.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He tilted his head, his dark eyes narrowing slightly.

“Compliments aren’t something I give freely. But you…”

He stepped closer, his polished boots barely making a sound against the marble floor.

“You’re different. I can feel it.”

My pulse quickened, but I maintained my composure.

His words felt like a test, a subtle probe to see how I’d react.

I couldn’t afford to stumble.

“Different can be dangerous,” I replied evenly.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, sharp and predatory.

“Dangerous is something I can appreciate.”

His proximity was suffocating, and yet I couldn’t retreat.