uiet route through an alley behind the bakery and down the side of a crumbling church. Less people

. He could feel it Noah paused halfway down the alley. His eyes swept the shadows nothing but trash bins and flickering streetlights. Still, his chest was

one look. One reminder. But it hadn't been. He had followed him home that night. And again the night after. And now tonight, he found himself memorizing the rhythm of Noah's steps. The way his brows knit together when he was thinking. And the slight limp in his right leg probably from the accident he'd barely survived. The one Viktor had ordered. A bitter wind passed, snapping Viktor's coat. Still, he didn't move. The cold grounded him. It reminded him what he was

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the floor with a dull thud. His pulse spiked. He stared at the screen. No name. No photo. Just that one message. He

door. His breathing was shallow now. This wasn't a prank. It didn't feel like on

black marble. Every inch of the place screamed control, power, silence. He tossed his gloves on the counter, then walked to th

money, the network. With a single command, he could bring Noah to his knees. But Viktor was not ready. Not yet. The boy had to come willingly not because he was told to, but because he needed to. And when he did God help him. Noah didn't sleep much that night. He kept checking the windows, the locks. By morning, he looked like hell pale, with bruises under his eyes. He didn't tell anyone. What could he say? That someone was watching him? That someone knew his every move? He sounded crazy even to himself. At school, he tried to focus.

Who the hell is this? Viktor watched from across the street, hidden behind tinted glass in the back of a black Maybach. The note was a test. He wanted to see how Noah would react not just physically, but emotionally. Would he crumble? Would he run? Or he would start digging? Noah did none of those things. He sat very still, staring at the note like it held the answer to a question he hadn't asked yet. His hands were trembling slightly. His mouth pressed into a line. Viktor smiled. He liked that. Resilience. The boy was stronger than he looked. That night, Noah called his friend Lexi the onl

he cold, ruthless empire he built from ash and blood. "He's the only thing I've ever regretted," Viktor said. "And the only thing I still want." Sergei didn't reply. What could he say? He'd seen Viktor slit a man's throat for speaking out of turn. Burn an entire shipment for disobedience. But this this was different. This was obsession. And ob