Novel & Cerita Viktor Reznov

A name flashing across the screen. Wiktor.

Red strings connected various pieces of information, forming a web of information. “This is who we are against,” Victor said, pointing to a photograph of a man with a scar on his cheek. “His name is Sergei Volkov. He controls one of the largest underground organizations in Eastern Europe. He’s been trying to weaken my operations for years.” “And what does that have to do with me?” Olivia asked, her voice trembles. Victor’s jaw tightens. “Because Sergei believes you are my weakness. He thinks if he can get to you, he can get to me.”

The name was Viktor Ren. Forty-seven years old. Originally from the Eastern Bloc, they moved operations westward over twelve years, leaving a trail of collapsed organisations and absorbed territories that read like a quiet war nobody had officially declared. He did not take over spaces loudly. He moved into them the way water moved into cracks, slowly, completely, and by the time anyone noticed he was there, the structure around him had already shifted to accommodate him. He had been watching this city for two years. He had been watching us specifically for eight months.

"A girl who suddenly speaks perfect English. A daughter who tries to send the strongest Lord of the council into a mountain of C4." He stopped directly in front of me, leaning in until our noses almost touched. "Or perhaps," Zima whispered, "Rai had nothing to do with this. Because Rai Kirov is currently unconscious in a room three miles from the data center. Which leaves us with the question... who the hell are you?" Viktor stood up, his shadow stretching across the floor like a shroud. "The mask is very good, darling," Viktor purred, pulling a combat knife from his belt. "But the heart... the heart always beats too fast when you're lying to a Volkov.”

Dante said. “His name is Viktor Krasnov. He is thirty-two years old. Took over after his father died nine months ago. He’s young, but he’s fierce and calculated. Not the type to rush in blindly. He’s been building quietly. It expanded into arms manufacturing, has strong political connections in St. Petersburg, and controls several ports. His grandfather had a major falling out with your grandfather over territory and a betrayal that cost the Krasnovs a lot of money and men. Viktor grew up hearing those stories. He sees this as unfinished business.”

Alessandro grabbing my waist and pecking my cheek. "Can you guys do that shit later? Ian complained rolling his eyes. "We have to torture this mother fucker" "Why did you kill my father" I bluntly asked Ivan. "I've killed a lot of fathers, sweetheart, elaborate." He flashed me a wicked smile showing his rotten teeth, and he had a small gold tooth on the bottom row. "Mateo Knight," I jammed my knife further into his thigh, and he let out a scream in pain. "Why the fuck did you kill him" I came closer to him, my eyes level with his, but all he did was whine, blood spilling from his thigh.

Because when you carried names, secrets, and damning truths about the Sovereign Accord, you didn’t request appointments—you demanded attention. The man they were here to meet had once been one of the Accord’s founding architects. A ghost on every intelligence watchlist. A man who hadn’t been seen publicly in almost ten years. Vladimir Reznikov. “Why now?” Cassandra asked as they trudged through the snow. “Why is he suddenly willing to talk?” “Because he knows what’s coming,” Natalie said quietly. “And for the first time, it’s something he didn’t plan.” Adrian remained close, scanning the shadows. “Let’s just hope he still has something to lose.”

We’d walked quite a distance away from everyone but he wasn’t satisfied. He was an introvert and hated noise, ‘according to his words. But I think this spot we were in was perfect. “This is so much we can go, Vorga.” In just the few minutes that I spent with him, we had become so close that I could casually speak to him.

“It means Viktor knows Raisel is his daughter. I failed to keep her hidden.” Her lips quivered as she spoke, and the weight of her words hit me like a punch to the chest. Viktor Morozov—the name alone was enough to make most people shudder. He wasn’t just any mafia boss; he was the Reaper of Russia, a man whose mere presence spread terror across Europe until my grandfather dismantled the Morozov empire. Yet Viktor had survived, keeping his brutal reign alive within the borders of Russia. And now, Raisel was his target. “I’ll protect her,” I said, the resolve in my voice unshakable. “Neither Viktor nor his men will lay a hand on her.”

Valentina looked distraught, while Manetto stared on in confusion. Renata’s hands were white knuckled on the edge of the table. “You can’t be serious, Giovanni. You can’t mean you appointed the murderer of our son as your successor.” “I am extremely serious, and I did. He has shown great characteristics of a leader. He has the loyalty and respect of the men, and instilled fear in those Roman turned against him. He knows when to be diplomatic and when to explode in physical rage. He thinks before he acts, calculates before he moves. He is the best and only man for the job.”