Page 63 of Hooked On Victor
Official Response
The Russian Ministry of Culture issued a statement early this morning calling the leak “a slanderous forgery,” butrefused to answer direct questions about the archive’s potential provenance.
Who Leaked It?
The identity of the source remains unknown. Online forums refer to the anonymous poster as “the Guardian,” a nod to one letter’s chilling final line: “To my son, if he should ever rise again—guard what must not be lost.”
Analysis
Dr. Katya Sokolov, Imperial Russian Historian, Cambridge University: “If even half of this is authentic, it will rewrite what we know about the Romanovs’ last days.”
Prof. Jean-Marc Lefevre, Sorbonne: “It’s not restoration they wanted. It was survival.”
Victor read every line.
Not once.
Twice.
Three times.
The print blurred until he blinked it clear, jaw working silently.
Across from him, Rose sat with her tea, elbows propped on the table, eyes never leaving his face.
She watched the way he tightened his grip on the paper until it crumpled softly.
How his breathing slowed—not calm, but contained, like someone holding an animal in a cage behind their ribs.
He lowered the newspaper slowly, the muscles in his arm tight.
“Still want to call me Your Highness?” he asked, voice breaking halfway between sarcasm and something raw.
Rose didn’t flinch.
She tilted her head, eyes bright with quiet challenge.
“Only when you deserve it.”
Nikolai arrived like he’d been conjured by the storm itself.
The door banged open on the wind.
He slipped in with his coat collar turned up, droplets catching in the fringe of his hair. He carried the cold in with him.
He didn’t bother with greetings.
He dropped into the booth with a grunt and tossed his phone onto the table between them.
Its screen flashed a grid of frenzied posts and clipped news footage.
“They’re eating it alive,” he said flatly.
Victor didn’t touch the phone.
He didn’t need to.
“I can see that,” he murmured.
