Page 36 of Hooked On Victor
Every breath.
“Thank you,” he murmured finally.
His voice was rougher than she’d ever heard it.
“For what?” she asked, taping the last of the dressing down.
He swallowed.
“For not running. For not looking at me like I’m a relic.”
She sat back slowly, peeling off the gloves with deliberate precision, the latex snapping.
She dropped them into the kit and shut it with a click.
“You’re not a relic, Viktor,” she said, voice calm but edged. “You’re a man who’s still here. That means something.”
He looked away, eyes darting out the rain-specked window. The darkness beyond seemed to press closer, heavy with things unsaid.
“Maybe,” he said.
But his voice was hollow.
He turned back to her suddenly, eyes bright and hot.
“But I didn’t tell you everything.”
Her stomach tightened.
“Of course you didn’t,” she said carefully. “There’s always one more secret with you.”
“This one matters.”
His voice was firm.
Final.
She held his gaze.
“Then tell me.”
He exhaled slowly, like the words hurt.
“The reason I’m being hunted isn’t just my name,” he said.
She frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a vault,” he said. His voice dropped low, almost a whisper, like even the trees might be listening. “Hidden since the revolution. Passed down through my family in pieces. Most people think it’s a myth.”
She felt her heart pick up speed.
“And it’s not?”
He shook his head once.
“I have the final key,” he said. “A cipher. Coordinates. And a blood signature that unlocks the rest.”
