Chapter 198: I guess I was drunk

Sienna smiled at him again, soft and steady, like the world outside that glass wasn’t currently trying to take her away from him. Like everything really would be okay.

He didn’t believe it. Not for a second.

"I’m okay," she said again, gently. "It’s going to be okay."

But Viktor wasn’t willing to simply trust that. Not this time. His mind kept circling back to the message still burning against his palm, the unknown sender, the impossible offer.

Just a drop of blood from Katalia.

He didn’t care if it was a lie. He didn’t care if it was a trap set by the don himself, some cruel test to see how far he’d go.

Right now, standing on the other side of that glass, watching the only person who mattered to him smile like she wasn’t gambling with her own life, he was willing to take every chance he had, no matter how reckless, no matter how impossible.

"I’ll be back. Hang in there," Viktor said, pressing his palm once more against the glass before turning away.

Sienna watched him go, her smile fading the moment his back was turned. Underneath the calm she’d shown him, a small, cold fear had settled into her chest, a creeping thought that this thing inside her might actually take her away from him, no matter how close they were to a cure.

In the car, Viktor didn’t waste a second.

"I need you to look into whoever sent that message," he told Marcus, already pulling out of the lot. "Find out if there’s any truth to it."

Marcus nodded, phone already pressed to his ear, working through contacts, calling in favors, chasing down whispers. Viktor drove without direction at first, restless, until word came back that Aliya had left the hotel. He turned the wheel sharply, heading straight for the old Capri mansion.

It didn’t take long before Marcus lowered the phone, his expression had shifted into something sharper, more certain.

"Someone close to the don confirmed it," he said. "Years ago, before his daughter went missing, she received the cure for something some illness, some early trial, I’m not entirely clear on the details. But if that’s true, it means it’s still in her blood. Whoever the don’s real daughter is, her blood could be the cure."

Viktor’s foot pressed harder against the gas pedal, the engine roaring beneath them.

"Then I need to meet Aliya," he said. "And get her blood."

"You think she’ll just hand it over?" Marcus asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don’t care how," Viktor said, his knuckles white against the wheel. "I’m getting it. One way or another."

Marcus studied him for a moment, then let out a slow breath. "Why don’t you try playing nice instead?" he said. "She’s easy to fool. That’s all it would take." He glanced toward a gas station sign glowing up ahead. "Pull in here. I’ll grab a syringe."

Viktor eased the car off the road, jaw still tight, eyes fixed somewhere far past the windshield, already rehearsing whatever performance it would take to get what he needed.

Marcus stepped out of the car, disappeared into the small pharmacy attached to the gas station, and returned minutes later with a compact medical kit tucked under his arm a syringe, vials, everything he’d need to draw blood and keep it stable until they got it back to the hospital lab.

"Stay here," Viktor said. "I want to go alone."

Marcus opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. He knew Viktor well enough by now to understand there was no point pushing back once his mind was set.

He handed over the kit and stepped back onto the curb, watching the car pull away, a knot of worry tightening in his chest. Viktor wasn’t exactly known for charm.

Smoothing things over with someone like Aliya, someone who thrived on drama and validation, wasn’t exactly his strength. Still, for Sienna’s sake, Marcus hoped he’d manage it.

Viktor arrived at the Capri mansion a short while later. The place was crawling with the don’s men now, white uniforms scattered across the grounds like some strange, quiet infestation.

He sat in the car for a long moment, staring at the gates, trying to piece together some plan, some approach that might actually work. Nothing came. He wasn’t built for gentle persuasion. He was built for taking what he wanted, and right now, that instinct was screaming at him to just walk in and demand it.

Then, as if the universe had decided to hand him an opening, the gates swung open, and a car rolled out.

Aliya’s car.

She spotted him immediately, and instead of driving past, she pulled over, stepping out with a slow, satisfied smile already forming on her lips. She crossed the pavement and rapped her knuckles lightly against his window.

Viktor rolled it down.

"Well, well," she said, leaning in slightly, one eyebrow arched. "Viktor. Here to see me?" Her smile widened. "Did you already change your mind?"

She laughed, light and pleased with herself, clearly savoring the sight of him showing up at her doorstep for once.

"It’s late," Viktor said. "What are you doing out here at this time of night?"

His mind was already racing ahead, calculating grab her wrist, get the needle in fast, be gone before anyone noticed.

But he caught himself. One scream, one guard alerted, and it would all be over before he’d gotten anything at all.

"What, now you worry about me?" Aliya asked, tilting her head, something soft flickering behind the usual smugness. "What are you doing here, Viktor?"

"I don’t know," he said, letting his voice drop, forcing something rougher, something more vulnerable into it. "I guess I was drunk. High, maybe. I found myself here. I’m going to go."

"If you’re high, you shouldn’t be driving," Aliya said quickly, real concern slipping through the cracks of her usual performance.

"I’m okay. I’m going to go." He reached for the gear shift.

"Come on, Viktor. At least wait a while." She stepped closer, something almost fragile in her expression now.

"That’s the first time you’ve spoken to me without disgust on your face. Without anger in your voice." Her eyes glistened, threatening tears.

"Would you want to come in for a while? I know you hate me. But I’m happy right now. You’re hurt, and yet you came to find me. It’s me you came to find. That has to mean you care about me. Even a little."