Dangerous Desires

3

The safe house was a luxury penthouse overlooking the river. Aria paced the living room, the flash drive clutched tightly in her palm, her mind racing with images of Viktor walking back into danger.

"Ms. Santos," Mikhail said, entering with a steaming mug. "Tea."

"Any word from Viktor?"

"Not yet." His expression revealed nothing, but his eyes flicked to her makeshift bandage on her arm torn from the same dress she'd used to bind Viktor's wound. "You should let me look at that."

"It's just a scratch." Aria sipped the tea, grimacing at its bitterness. "What is this?"

"Old Russian remedy. For shock."

Aria set the mug down. "I'm not in shock."

"Most people would be." Mikhail studied her with new respect. "You handled yourself well tonight."

"Is this normal? Shootouts and ambushes?"

"For us? Sometimes." He nodded at the flash drive in her hand. "That must be important if he gave it to you."

Aria's fingers tightened around it. "What could be on this that's worth killing for?"

The door burst open before Mikhail could answer. Viktor strode in, his suit torn and blood-spattered, a fresh cut above his eye. His gaze locked on Aria immediately, relief flashing across his features.

"You're safe," he said, covering the distance between them in three long strides.

"What happened?" Aria reached up instinctively to examine the cut on his forehead.

Viktor caught her wrist, his thumb brushing her racing pulse. "Petrov is dead."

"Did you "

"No." His jaw tightened. "Someone beat me to it. The same someone who tried to take us all out tonight."

Mikhail cleared his throat. "Sir, the others are waiting for your orders."

"Tell them to secure our territories. Double the guards at all locations." Viktor didn't take his eyes off Aria. "And arrange for Ms. Santos's mother to be moved to a private facility. With round-the-clock security."

"Yes, sir." Mikhail left, closing the door softly behind him.

Alone now, Viktor's shoulders sagged slightly, a rare glimpse of vulnerability. "The drive. You still have it?"

Aria uncurled her fingers, revealing the small black device. "What's on it?"

Viktor took it from her palm, their fingers brushing. "Let's find out."

He led her to a home office, inserting the drive into a laptop. Files appeared photographs, documents, spreadsheets.

"These are shipping manifests," Aria said, leaning over his shoulder. "And... are those bank accounts?"

"Evidence of a federal informant in my organization." Viktor's voice was deadly quiet. "Someone's been feeding information to the FBI for months."

"A traitor."

"Yes." His fingers flew across the keyboard. "The question is: who left this for me to find?"

"Someone who wants to help you?"

Viktor's laugh was bitter. "No one helps in this world without wanting something in return."

Aria's hand settled on his shoulder. "I'm helping you."

He stilled under her touch, then covered her hand with his own. "Are you? Or am I just another devil's bargain to save your mother?"

The question hung between them, charged with unspoken tension.

"It started that way," Aria admitted. "But now..."

Viktor stood abruptly, turning to face her. Their bodies were inches apart in the small space between desk and wall.

"Now?" he prompted, voice rough.

Aria swallowed. "I don't know what this is. But it's not just business anymore."

His eyes darkened. One hand came up to tangle in her hair, tilting her face toward his. "This is dangerous, Aria. I'm dangerous."

"I know."

"No, you don't." His grip tightened, not painful but insistent. "Everyone I care about becomes a target."

"Like tonight?"

"Exactly like tonight." His other hand traced the curve of her waist, leaving fire in its wake. "I should send you away. Somewhere safe."

Aria leaned into his touch, defiant. "I'm not going anywhere."

With a growl of frustration, Viktor claimed her mouth. This kiss was different not the desperate adrenaline of their first, nor the gentle question of their second. This was possession, desire unleashed. His hands roamed her body, pulling her flush against him as he backed her against the wall.

Aria matched his intensity, fingers digging into his shoulders, gasping when his lips traveled to her neck. Her head fell back against the wall, giving him better access.

"Viktor," she breathed, her body arching into his.

The sound of his name seemed to snap something in him. He pulled back sharply, breathing hard. "This is madness."

"Maybe," she whispered, reaching for him again.

The laptop chimed, interrupting the moment. Viktor turned back to the screen, his expression shifting from desire to alarm.

"What is it?" Aria asked, peering over his shoulder.

"GPS coordinates." He checked his watch. "And a countdown."

"To what?"

"I don't know." He grabbed his phone, dialing quickly. "Mikhail, I need you to check "

An explosion rocked the building, the sound distant but powerful enough to rattle the windows. Viktor shielded Aria instinctively.

"Sir?" Mikhail's voice came through the speaker. "That was the east warehouse."

Viktor's face hardened. "The medical supplies."

"And the cash reserves."

Aria watched understanding dawn in Viktor's eyes. "It's not random. They're crippling me systematically."

Another chime from the laptop. Another set of coordinates appeared, with a new countdown: thirty minutes.

"They're telling me where they'll strike next," Viktor said grimly.

"It's a trap," Aria insisted, clutching his arm.

"Obviously." He turned to her, decision made. "Which is why you're staying here while I deal with this."

"No!" Aria stepped between him and the door. "You know it's a trap and you're still going?"

Viktor's hand cupped her cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle. "I don't have a choice. These are my businesses, my people."

"Then I'm coming with you."

"Absolutely not."

"I can help. What if someone gets hurt?"

Their eyes locked in silent battle. Finally, Viktor cursed under his breath. "You stay in the car. If anything happens, Mikhail will get you out."

"Okay."

Viktor studied her face, thumb brushing her lower lip. "When this is over..."

He didn't finish the sentence, but the promise in his eyes made her heart race.

"When this is over," she echoed, sealing the words with a quick, fierce kiss.

As they raced downstairs to the waiting car, Aria's phone buzzed. An unknown number. The text message made her blood run cold:

Your mother says hello. Tick tock, Ms. Santos. Choose wisely.

Attached was a photo of her mother's empty hospital bed, the sheets disturbed as if she'd been taken forcibly.

Aria stopped, staring at her phone in horror. Viktor was already in the car, focused on the next target.

The choice was impossible: warn Viktor about the trap that might claim his life, or slip away to save her mother?

Time was running out for them both.