Viktor Reznov Novels & Stories

“And the information about the Red Hook guy I asked about – were you able to find anything about him? Who is he?” Ray flipped through a file he had come in with. “His name is Viktor Krasimirov,” he began. “At least, that's the name he's using now. He's had at least six others over the past eight years, so no one's certain if any of them are real.” “Where's he from?”

a deep, smooth voice called out, drawing my attention. I turned to see Viktor Volkov, an associate from the Bratva in Russia, standing beside us with a glass of whiskey in hand. He was a tall, well-groomed man with sharp blue eyesand a reputation for being both charming and dangerous—a combination I wasn’t particularly fond of at the moment. “Volkov,” I greeted curtly, keeping my arm around Giselle’s waist. I didn’t care that I was acting extra possessive of her tonight as long as it kept the other men away from her.

I’d been drowning in the illusion of Zenya for months, and now there was someone else—someone with the same eyes—spilling truth like blood on marble. “At seventeen, I started digging. Tracking the origins of everything they told me. And eventually…” He paused and looked directly at Miguel. “I found your father. Senator Myers.” Miguel’s eyes flared wide. “You tracked that down at seventeen?” Viktor laughed quietly and pulled something from his pocket. His ID. “I didn’t sleep. I’m the owner of V-Core, the most advanced AI-integrated cybernetics system in the world. You think hacking a few archives scared me?”

“‘Classic Cocktails.’ Aperol Spritz—refreshing drink with a light citrus bitterness, 220 milliliters, 170 hryvnias.” “But… how?” he stared, baffled. “I have a very strong photographic memory. You read that I finished my studies externally, right?” “Yes, but I thought you were just a bookworm…” “No, there was no point sitting and listening to material I could absorb way faster than everyone else. And also— I, Victoria Aleksandrovna Lemeshko, am a certified biochemist, senior technologist, and specialist at Nikolai Koshev’s company. Nice to meet you.”

snapped Michelangelo. “Let’s go home. I will drop you and surely inform you when we have another auction party.” “Let’s go. It’s getting late. And next auction party, I will make sure Renata captures everyone’s attention.” Vicktor drove in his car smirking all the way. Michelangelo was getting soft with Renata and after what Vicktor said, his anger was back. Vicktor was not going to let Michelangelo forget about his anger. His hate and love for Renata were his motivating power. He was climbing the stairs of the nomination because of her.

“But if Elena’s dead, who’s picking up the pieces? Her empire’s been gutted. Who’s left to carry this out?” Damian exchanged a look with Alex, who gave a reluctant nod. She tapped her keyboard, pulling up a dossier that filled the screen with a picture of a man. Sharp features, piercing eyes, and a cold, calculating expression. “Meet Viktor Arvanov,” Alex said. “Elena’s second-in-command. He was responsible for overseeing the Genesis project while she focused on broader operations.” Damian studied the face on the screen. “Arvanov... I’ve heard that name before. He’s ex-military, isn’t he?”

I can't say it. "To what?" Margaret whispers. "To suicide." The word hangs in the air like a death sentence. The room goes silent except for the beeping of my heart monitor, which is racing now. "Viktor's Anna," I continue. "The woman he loved. Her father was Josef Novák. He owned a small biotechnology company in Prague. Revolutionary research. Three generations of work." I look at Margaret. "I wanted his patents. He wouldn't sell. So I destroyed him."

Cassandra’s eyes fluttered shut, her body shuddering under the intensity of his touch. She had given herself to him completely tonight, trapped in a web of desire she could never escape. That night, nothing else mattered. There were no lies, no resistance—only them, bound together in an unbreakable passion. On the other side of the city… A figure sat in a sleek black car parked at the edge of a deserted street. The faint glow of a cigarette tip flickered in the darkness, revealing a face carved with quiet amusement. Viktor Reznov watched his phone screen, a small smirk curving his lips. He had just sent a message—one that would shatter the fragile peace Antoni

Then— "Lukas Reiner." His eyes widened. "Oh." And immediately after, "Viktor Volkov." Silence. Then Viktor looked up too. For a second, neither of them moved. Then they looked at each other and neither smiled because somehow, they both made it. The Coach continued reading. More names, more players then— "Aiden Cross." The rival. He smiled, of course he smiled. He looked like he'd known the entire time and eventually, the coach lowered the clipboard.

I just searched frozen. She stopped by the dresser and ran her fingers along its edge. “You’re actually beautiful. That’s going to piss off more people than you think. Trust me, there were many bidding on you looking ugly. Some even said that you look like a troll.” I finally found my voice. “And you are…? I'm sorry, but I didn't expect you to come inside my room to just tell me that I looked. Well…” “Madeline,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Second daughter of Beta Reinhart. Technically ranked, practically ignored. I'm more of a subtle kind of woman. I choose to at least lighten the mood. I know that you might be having a hard time.”