Romans & histoires Viktor Quotes

His vision blurred as he turned around to a familiar face, Viktor Dashkov. He dropped to the floor, trying to fight the dizziness and wincing through the pain. "Ublyudok!" (Bastard!) "ya svoloch'? Ty predatel'! Vy vybirayete ital'yantsev? Chto zh, ty umresh', kak skoro umrut mnogiye iz nikh." (I'm a bastard? You are a traitor! You choosed the Italians? well you'll die like the lots of them will soon.)

“You don’t say her name to me. You might be the hero to some in here if you open these safes. To me you’re just the fucking creep who made two women starve to save your own neck.” Viktor’s eyes narrowed, that smile shrunken but still there as I made his throat bruise. His perfect, blemish free skin, how easy it would be to take some of the choice weapons from Valdis and make him as fucked up as the rest of us down here. Viktor whispered, his golden eyes revelling in his moment. “They were willing. I never made them do a thing,” he said, “I think that’s what's pissing you off most. They wanted to Dec. They gave…everything.”

The mate bond pulsed. “Rules don’t bend,” Viktor repeated. He ran his finger along the rim of the glass on the desk. “They break,” he said. “And when they do, they take people with them.” He turned on his heel and made for the door. Before he left, he glanced over his shoulder. “Enjoy the drink,” he smiled at me. “Architect of the Games.” Then he was gone. I stood there for a long moment. Then I turned to the monitors.

"This is my war, my fight. Viktor Romanov killed my father—" "And if you keep this up, he’ll kill you too!" Viktoh’s voice boomed through the small space, silencing me instantly. He stood up, towering over me, his face hard as granite. "Do you think your father would want this? To see you throw your life away on some suicide mission?"

"Always the tactician. Always thinking three steps ahead." David emerged from the tent, his weapon raised. "Hello, Viktor." "David. You look older." "You look uglier." Viktor laughed, a sound devoid of warmth. "Twenty years of hiding in the shadows will do that to a man." "Twenty years of murdering innocent people will do worse," David replied. "Innocent?" Viktor scoffed. "There's no such thing as innocent, David. There are only predators and prey. You taught me that when you chose your American dream over your family."

He shook his head again for 'No'. "Neither do I." I sighed. Would things be easier if I had found my mate? Most likely. "If someone told you to toss your mate to the side for more power, what would you do?" I found myself asking, even though I knew he wouldn't answer. I could feel my face heat under his gaze. His eyes seemed to be roaming my face, searching for something. "Fuck power." Viktor's deep voice replied, nearly making my jaw drop. His voice held a slight accent, something rough and guttural. It only added to the intense attraction I seemed to feel towards him.

I continued, locking eyes with Viktor. “Try me, Viktor. Fucking try me.” Viktor just stood there, his cold gray eyes studying me, calculating. And then, he gave a slow nod, like I’d just passed some unspoken test. “The Revenant has risen,” he said, his voice flat, almost impressed. “Damn right I have,” I muttered under my breath. And this time I wasn’t here to haunt anyone. I was here to fucking burn the world down.

he said looking me in the eye “but have you ever heard of the saying, ne sudi o knige po oblozhke?” “Never judge a book by its cover” I said raising an eyebrow. “You understand Russian” “YA dolzhen eto tvoyemu bratu” I owe that to your brother. Viktor simply smiled and nodded in response before his expression returned to that of being serious once again.

Apparently this family specialized in confusing pairs of things that looked similar and weren't. Viktor came out from the courtroom a few minutes later, having stayed behind to speak briefly with the prosecutor. He found us where we stood. "You came," he said to me. Quiet. "Your mother asked." He looked at Natalia. Something passed between them not words, just the kind of look that happens between people who've spent a difficult morning in the same room and are both still standing. "Thank you," he said to her. "For being here. For staying."

I chuckled, being reminded of the little rascal I have in the shape of a woman. "Well you don't know how hard it is for me to stand by the side and watch her every day, trying something new to take your life. And I couldn't interfere because you said , and I quote, ‘don't interrupt my little wife when she wants to do something to me.’" I laugh harder this time. Momentarily forgetting my work. "How many times have I escaped death, Viktor?" I asked, staring at him. He creases his brows and then answers; "Like thirty times? I don't know, uncountable," he shrugged. "And you're still just thirty one." He grumbles.