Chapter 189: What Virus?

Simon blinked at her, confused. "You want to show Viktor that you and I..." "He’s already here," Sienna said flatly. "You don’t have to video it this time."

"Please, Sienna," Simon said, panic creeping into his voice now. "She made me do it. Please, no..."

"Marcus," Sienna said, not even glancing his way, "shoot him if he doesn’t take his shirt off."

"Gladly," Marcus said, already lifting his weapon with something close to enthusiasm.

"Seriously, Sienna..." Simon started, utterly bewildered, while beside her, Viktor looked like a man one breath away from burning the entire estate to the ground regardless of what anyone said.

With shaking hands, Simon finally pulled his shirt off. Sienna stepped closer and traced her fingers slowly across his bare back. Beside her, Viktor’s control was hanging on by nothing more than a thread.

"I never thought I would try this in real life," Sienna said quietly, almost to herself, "but let’s see if it works, shall we?"

"What?" Simon’s voice cracked, panic flooding his face as her fingers pressed deeper along his spine, searching, precisely, until she found exactly what she was looking for.

His vertebrae.

She broke the first one with a sharp, controlled motion, lifting and twisting at the same time. Simon’s scream tore through the courtyard, raw and guttural. Her hand moved lower, found the next point, and broke that one too. He screamed again, his body convulsing against the pain.

There was one final technique, the most vital one, the one her master had drilled into her for months, the one capable of ending a life in a single precise strike.

She didn’t use it.

Simon collapsed to the ground, gasping, trembling, his body no longer answering him the way it used to.

"Have someone take him to his house," Sienna said, turning away from him like he was nothing more than an inconvenience now. "Don’t worry. He’ll live."

"That’s bad," Viktor said flatly, staring down at what remained of the man who had once dared to touch her.

"That was for trying to touch me," Sienna said simply. "I think it’s enough. He’ll get to spend the rest of his life bedridden." She turned toward Viktor, some of the coldness melting from her voice. "Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up."

Marcus stood there for a moment, watching her lead Viktor calmly toward the house, no trace of fear on her face, no hesitation in her steps.

It struck him then, more than it ever had before, just how far she’d come and if only he knew, truly knew, the depth of the hole he and Viktor had both crawled out of to get here, and everything it had cost them along the way.

He shook his head, hoisted Simon’s crying, broken body into the back of a car, and drove off into the dark.

Inside, Sienna sat Viktor down gently and returned with a bowl of warm water and a soft towel. Her hands trembled slightly as she began wiping the blood from his knuckles, his jaw, his neck.

She was almost afraid to ask where he had been tonight, afraid to know how many men he had left behind, how many lives had ended because of the call that pulled him away.

"It’s not my blood, baby," Viktor said quietly, watching her face. "I’m not hurt."

"I’m glad you’re not hurt," Sienna whispered, continuing to clean his hands and face, working slowly, carefully, as though the motion itself might keep her steady.

Because the truth sat heavy between them, unspoken. This was only the beginning.

Tonight, they had drawn a line in the sand, killed Don Konstantin’s men, humiliated his daughter, and spilled blood on Kessler ground. Whatever came next would not be easy. And Viktor’s reinforcements were still a week away.

They only had to survive that long.

But now, with the line drawn and the war truly begun, fear had become something constant, something that lived in every shadow and every silence. Every second, from here on, could be their last.

—-

Morning light crept in through the curtains, pale and thin, though neither of them had really slept. Viktor lay beside Sienna, his arm draped over her waist, his mind turning over words he wanted to say but couldn’t quite force out that everything would be okay, that she was safe now, that the worst was behind them.

Except none of that felt true. What waited for them next was something even he couldn’t predict, and some quiet, honest part of him wanted to tell her to run instead. Far away from all of it.

That was when her phone buzzed against the nightstand.

Sienna’s whole body went still. She recognized the pattern of that beep instantly a code, something she and Aria had set up years ago, back when they were just two girls trying to survive a world that didn’t make it easy. It meant only one thing.

Trouble.

"Sienna, what is it? Who is it?" Viktor asked, already sitting up.

"It’s Aria," she said, already throwing back the covers, crossing the room fast toward her machines.

Viktor followed close behind her, worry etched deep into his face.

She powered on the screen, and a message blinked to life not just text, but a video, recorded quickly, quietly, clearly sent under conditions that hadn’t allowed for anything more.

Aria’s face filled the screen, pale, drawn, her eyes darting slightly as though checking over her shoulder even as she spoke.

"Hey, girl," she whispered, her voice shaking.

"My father got entangled with some very bad guys. I’m nervous, Sienna. I can feel it in my body." She swallowed hard, her hands trembling slightly where they gripped the edge of whatever she was hiding behind.

"The virus is starting to manifest. I have less than a week." The video ended there.

Sienna stared at the frozen frame, confusion and fear tangling together in her chest. Virus. What virus? How had Aria gotten infected with anything? What trouble had her father dragged them into?

"I’ll try calling her mother," Viktor said, already dialing. The call failed once, then again. He lowered the phone slowly, shaking his head.