Page 38 of Never Distract a Biker

I hesitate, the question catching me off guard. My fingers fidget with the edge of the blanket as I search for an answer. "It’s ... complicated," I admit, the word once again summing up the mess my life has become.

She tilts her head, waiting for me to elaborate.

"I met him once," I say finally, my voice steady but tinged with uncertainty. "It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t supposed to be anything. And now ..." I gesture vaguely, as if the enormity of the situation could be summed up in a single motion.

Alina listens intently, her expression unreadable. "He can be ... difficult," she says after a pause. "Because he’s been through a lot. But if he’s keeping you here, it means he sees something in you. Viktor doesn’t do anything without a reason."

Her words linger, leaving me wondering if she’s trying to reassure or warn me.

16

Viktor

One week later

The morning sun filters through the tall windows of the breakfast room, casting pale light on the polished wood table. I sit at the head, nursing my coffee, its bitterness a welcome distraction. The silence is heavy but not unwelcome. For a brief moment, I’m alone with my thoughts—until Alina and Yelena stride in.

Their faces and movements are identical. But this morning, Alina is wearing a frown accompanied by an expression that spells trouble. Her brows knit together in barely restrained frustration, while Yelena’s gaze seems nonchalant.

Alina wastes no time. “Viktor,” she says sharply, sitting across from me, “what exactly are you doing about Scarlett?”

I glance at her over the rim of my coffee mug, the familiar bitterness on my tongue now mirrored in my mood. “Good morning to you too, Alina,” I say dryly, setting the cup down with deliberate calm.

“Don’t deflect,” she snaps, her voice cutting through the quiet. “She’s pregnant. She’s vulnerable. And you’ve done nothing to make her feel safe or cared for.”

Yelena exhales, leaning back in her chair. “Alina, I told you this isn’t the time—”

“This is exactly the time,” Alina cuts her off, turning to face her twin with a disbelieving look. “She’s carrying Viktor’s child, and you’re acting like she’s just another stranger we can lock away and forget about!”

I let the argument unfold, the tension crackling between them like a live wire. Alina’s frustration is palpable, her voice rising with every word, while Yelena remains stoic, her tone clipped and pragmatic.

Yelena’s lips press into a thin line as she listens to Alina’s tirade. When she finally speaks, her voice is calm but firm. “Scarlett is safe here. That’s more than she would be anywhere else.”

Alina glares at her, incredulous. “Safe? Is that all you care about? Safety? What about how she feels? What about the fact that she’s alone, terrified, and carrying Viktor’s child?”

Yelena shrugs, unbothered by Alina’s indignation. “Feelings don’t matter if you’re dead, Alina. She’s here because of the baby. That child is family, and this is the safest place for them both.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Alina hisses, throwing her hands up. “You’re so focused on strategy and survival that you’ve forgotten what it means to be human.”

Yelena’s eyes narrow, her voice dropping to a dangerous tone. “And you’ve forgotten that our father is dead. Or does Scarlett matter more to you than avenging him?”

The room grows tense, the weight of their argument pressing against me. I remain silent, watching as Alina’s anger grows, her frustration now directed at me.

Alina turns her piercing gaze on me, her voice trembling with fury. “And you,” she snaps, her finger pointing accusingly at me. “Starashiy brat, are her baby’s father. Your duty to Scarlett goes beyond locking her up in this house like a prisoner.”

I say nothing, though her words sting more than I’d like to admit. The truth is, I have stayed away from Scarlett because coming close to her means losing control over myself.

“She’s suffering,” Alina continues, her voice softer now but no less insistent. “Do you even know how much she’s struggling with morning sickness? Do you know how scared she is? She doesn’t even have her own clothes, Viktor. I’ve been giving her mine, but how do you think she feels about being at the mercy of strangers for something as basic as dignity?”

I grip the edge of the table, my jaw tightening. Alina’s words cut deep, each one a reminder of my failure.

“She’s not just some pawn in your game of vengeance,” Alina says, her tone laced with disappointment. “She’s a person. And she’s carrying another person who happens to be your child. My niece or nephew.”

I remain silent, my eyes fixed on the coffee mug in front of me. Alina’s words replay in my mind, each one a blow to the armor I’ve built around myself.

She’s right. I’ve avoided Scarlett and pushed her into the background of my priorities because facing her means confronting things I’m not ready for. The weight of my father’s murder investigation, the unrelenting need for revenge—it all feels easier to bear than the vulnerability Scarlett brings out in me.

But as Alina speaks, I feel the cracks forming. Guilt gnaws at me, its sharp edges cutting through the layers of denial I’ve clung to. I can’t ignore the truth any longer. I’ve failed her.

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