All Chapters of She's Viktor Romanov’s: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Anya pov.Yuvi had been watching me, and not in the casual way most men did when they thought I was just another pretty face. His eyes weren’t filled with admiration or even boredom—they were sharp, calculating. He was trying to figure me out, to catch me slipping. I noticed it days after they returned from Mexico, when I walked past him in the hallway. His body language screamed casual, but his gaze stayed fixed on me for too long. At first, I told myself I was imagining things. After all, Yuvi was one of Viktor’s most trusted men. If he suspected something, Viktor would’ve already known about it. But the little things added up. Yuvi always seemed to be nearby, watching from the corner of his eye. When I walked into the kitchen, he was there. When I sat in the courtyard, he’d find some excuse to pass by. Once, I even caught him standing outside my room late at night. My gut told me to be careful. If Yuvi found out why I was going close to V

Anya pov.Watching Anton was like watching a pot that never boiled. He was careful—too careful—but no one could be that perfect. Everyone slipped up eventually, and I was determined to catch him when he did. For the past week, I’d been shadowing him whenever I could, slipping into rooms just as he left, lingering in hallways to catch bits of conversation. It wasn’t easy. Viktor’s house ran like a tight machine, every person trained to stick to their roles. But Anton... He always seemed a little too busy, a little too preoccupied with things that didn’t add up. This morning, I found him in the kitchen, muttering under his breath as he stirred a cup of tea. He didn’t notice me standing in the doorway, and I used that moment to study him. His shoulders were tense, and his hand gripped the spoon so tightly that it clinked against the cup with every stir. “Anton,” I called softly, stepping into the room. He jumped, the spoon slipping f

Viktor pov.The whiskey glass was warm in my hand, the amber liquid reflecting the dim light in the study. Across from me, Vlan sat like he owned the place—leaned back, legs spread, a cigar balanced between his fingers. His laughter filled the room, deep and rough, like gravel under boots. “Odessa’s shipment?” I asked, leaning forward. “Handled,” he said, puffing out a cloud of smoke. “But I’ve got to say, Viktor, your boys need a leash. One of them nearly fumbled the whole thing.” “Which one?” “Does it matter?” He smirked, swirling his whiskey. “They’re all too green. You should let me knock some sense into them.” I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t argue. Vlan loved to criticize, but he wasn’t wrong. I’d been too lenient lately, focusing on other things—other people. My gaze drifted to the clock on the wall. It was getting late. “Speaking of leashes,” Vlan said, breaking the silence. “How’s your little pet? Still trying to bite the hand

Anya pov.Yesterday, I woke up to the silence of the room, thick and suffocating. Viktor’s side of the bed was empty, the sheets cool against my fingertips. I reached out instinctively, but he wasn’t there. The first thought that crossed my mind was that something had happened. He was always gone before me, but this felt... different. Pulling the blanket around me, I sat up and stared at the room. The faint scent of his cologne lingered, mingling with the leather and wood of the furniture. It was a comforting smell, one I’d come to associate with him, but that day, it only made my chest tighten. Something was wrong. I felt it. ***I wandered out into the hallway, my bare feet padding against the cold floor. The mansion was alive with movement, but the usual hum of activity felt muted, like everyone was trying not to draw attention to themselves. Two staff members passed me, their heads bent close together as they whispered. “...found h

Anya pov.The mansion had its own way of holding secrets. The walls whispered things when no one was looking—words you weren’t meant to hear but couldn’t ignore. That morning, as I lingered near Viktor’s study, the low rumble of voices reached me. “…you can’t afford sentiment,” Yuvi was saying. His voice was sharp, like a blade slicing through the air. “Not now. Especially not for her.” For me. I froze, my fingers gripping the edge of the wall. My stomach knotted as shame burned through me. “She’s not your problem, Yuvi,” Viktor replied, his tone colder than I’d ever heard it. “I’ll handle her.” Handle me? What did that mean? I felt my chest tighten, their conversation pressing down like an anchor. Yuvi didn’t back down. “You’re distracted. Don’t deny it. You think Boris won’t notice? That he won’t use it against you?” “Enough.” Viktor’s voice dropped, low and deadly. “Do your job, and I’ll do mine.” The scrape of a chair made