Novel & Cerita Viktor Reznov

The man’s eyes widened, and Lena caught the flash of recognition, terror sharpening. “Your internal contact,” Rafe said quietly, voice calm but lethal. “Tell me their name. Now.” The man’s eyes darted between them, sweat streaking his face. “I… I Viktor… Viktor Malenkov. He’s the one… he’s feeding the information…”

“Find everything about that channel. I want locations, timestamps, anything we can use.” “I already pulled a list of known operatives tied to that region,” Nico said, handing him a thin folder. “There’s one name flagged by Interpol last month. They thought he was dead.” Rafael flipped it open. And froze. The photo inside was sharper than the video, and yet—just as haunting. A man with ice-gray eyes. Scar above his brow. A smirk like he held the world in his palm. “Viktor Baranov.” Nico nodded grimly. “He used to run weapons for Silas. But after Silas fell, he vanished. Thought to be executed by a rival in Prague.”

he whispered. I raised my glass, forcing a smile as we clinked them together. The gesture felt absurd given the circumstances, but it worked. We looked like any other couple enjoying the event. Selene's laughter pierced the air again, drawing my attention. She was speaking animatedly to a man with a scar running down his cheek. "That's Viktor Ivanov," Elias murmured. "One of the most dangerous crime bosses in Europe." I nearly choked on my champagne. "And she's laughing with him like they're old friends?"

Ezra, who was sitting beside me, got up from his chair and extended a hand to the Lycan, shaking it. “I believe that you of all people should be aware of my support for Mikhail.” Ezra answered, raising an eyebrow at Killian. “The main question is why are YOU here? I believe that you are a rival?” “Yes, I was a rival to Mikhail’s father, but that does not mean that I have to be toward his son. You know, a family rival can end somewhere, and I choose for it to end with his father.” Killian said, looking at Mikhail who frowned at the sight of the Lycan. Ezra put his hand on his chest, pushing him back.

This had to be the boss. He walked in with a confident stride and took a seat right across from me. For a moment, he just stared at me, his dark eyes piercing through me, making my skin crawl. The silence stretched on, my heart pounding in my chest. "I’m Viktor," he finally said, his voice low and gravelly. "Viktor Romano." He got up from his chair and started pacing around the room, his hands clasped behind his back. "You know, Sarah, I’ve never liked this part of my job," he said, his tone almost conversational. "Abducting women... it's not my style."

"Get the f**k away from her!" That deep voice growled in vicious menace causing her heart to stop beating as her eyes widened. Her head snapped in the direction of that deep voice. Even though she couldn't make out his features because of the lights behind him, that voice was so intense to be forgotten. He took a step further in so that now his face was slightly visible and as soon as his olive cold eyes met hers, she knew he was none other than Rasmus Colt, aka Mr. Mute.

"We'll see." It took her a minute to remember what it was they were talking about and when she did she ducked her head and went back to eating. The look he gave her left no mistake as to his meaning but she'd been down that slippery slope once already and had no intention on going for another ride. Especially not with someone that looked like him; he was the poster boy for Player's R'Us. No way no how! Besides, they'd only just met a few hours ago. The man was crazy.

"These are the major players who will likely be at the club tonight. People you've dealt with before, people who are watching to see if you're still the same Xenois Kingston they remember." The first photo showed a man in his fifties with silver hair and a sharp suit. "Viktor Kozlov," Dmitri continued. "Russian arms dealer, specializes in Eastern European military surplus. You've had business dealings with him for years—mostly information trading. He respects power and despises weakness. When you see him, you need to be confident, almost aggressive. He responds to dominance." "Got it," I said, studying the face and trying to imagine interacting with this man.

“Afraid to tarnish his perfect princess?” “They’d ruin his career. He’s up for superintendent.” “And you care about his career, why?” Maddox leaned closer, his breath warm on my neck. “He’s my father.” “Your father’s hands are dirtier than ours,” Ronan said. “He just wears gloves.” Another buzz. One hour, princess. Or those photos hit every news outlet in Chicago. Come alone. – Viktor Kozlov “Viktor Kozlov. Vulture enforcer,” Ronan said. “Likes to make things personal.”

he said sincerely and I nodded. "Viktor is an honorable man then," I asked again because if he hesitated, I'd break into Viktor's room and drag my son away, no matter what the two were doing. Vlad nodded and said that Viktor was a Slovakian tsar from the fifteenth century and his last name is Pokrvný and it's associated with blood in his home country. "I'm certain your father Mikhail knew him and if I recall they grew up together in Russia," he added and I shrugged not caring about anything to do with my late father.