8

And I hated myself for how much I wanted more.

17

VIKTOR

I watched her leave, my gaze never leaving her form as she walked out of the room, her back straight, her steps quick but not hurried.

Sabrina had always been strong, unyielding, a stone wall I couldn’t seem to crack.

And yet, in that one moment, when I kissed her—when I marked her as mine—I felt something shift.

She didn’t fight me.

She didn’t push me away.

Her lips were soft, despite the hardness she carried with her.

She kissed me back, even if it was just for a second, even if she hated herself for it.

I could see it in the way her chest rose and fell, the way her hands trembled just slightly.

She was struggling.

And that only made me want her more.

I cursed myself for wanting her like this.

I had no room for weakness.

No room for emotions.

I had a plan, a vision, and Sabrina was the key to it all.

She was powerful, calculated, dangerous—and yet, there was something about her that stirred something deep within me.

I wanted to break her.

I wanted to bend her to my will, to see her lose herself in me.

But at the same time, a darker, more dangerous part of me wanted to keep her for myself, to possess her completely.

She had no idea what she was dealing with.

But I was going to make sure she understood.

I would make her see that she belonged to me—body, mind, and soul.

I leaned back in my chair, breathing in the remnants of her scent that still lingered in the room.

And I smiled, a wicked, dark smile.

The game had only just begun.

Sabrina might think she could resist me, but the truth was—she already belonged to me.

I could see it in her eyes.

And soon enough, she would see it too.

18

SABRINA

The days blurred into a haze of missions, each one darker than the last.

Viktor’s orders were precise, calculated—designed to keep me on edge.

I could never predict what he would ask of me next.

Every task seemed to carry its own brand of moral ambiguity.

And each time I carried out one of his assignments, I felt a little piece of me disappear.

The first mission he sent me on was nothing I hadn’t done before: take out an arms dealer who was undercutting Viktor’s operations.

But it wasn’t the man I killed that haunted me—it was the way Viktor had watched me do it, as if he were a spectator at a show, deriving some twisted pleasure from my cold detachment.

I didn’t flinch when I slit the man’s throat, but his blood splattered across my clothes, and Viktor’s eyes burned into me, silent approval radiating from his gaze.

I was his tool now—his puppet.

 That thought gnawed at me, but I buried it deep.

The next mission was more personal.

Viktor ordered me to track down a man who’d once worked with him, a traitor who’d stolen from Viktor’s supply chain.

I found him hiding in an abandoned apartment complex.

He was terrified, shaking, begging for his life.

His cries didn’t faze me, not at first.

I was cold, detached, focused on the task.

But as I pulled the trigger, as the life drained from his eyes, something in me cracked.

I don’t know if it was the way he looked at me—pleading, almost pleading with me as if I were still human—or if it was the sudden, sharp reminder of the girl I used to be.

The girl who could still feel.

Viktor didn’t care about any of that.

He had no patience for weakness.

I had to remind myself of that, of what I’d become under his control.

And yet... each mission, I felt a little more of myself slipping away.

The line between who I was and who I was becoming was blurring.

Was I even still Sabrina?

Or was I just a reflection of Viktor’s dark world?

“Good job, Sabrina,” Viktor’s voice had rumbled over the comms when I returned. “You did exactly what I needed you to do. I’m impressed.”