Spy on Viktor Romanov.

Anya’s pov.

It had been three days since the incident on the terrace. I didn’t know exactly what Viktor had done to the soldier, but I didn’t need to.

The man had vanished, and Viktor had stormed into my room afterward, his voice a low, dangerous growl as he warned me to “be careful” about my choice of clothes outside the room if I didn’t want more blood on my hands.

He never restricted me outright, but his words were a warning I couldn’t ignore.

Now, as I sat alone in my room, a knot twisted in my stomach. I couldn’t stop thinking about my mother—and Celine.

Mom must be worried sick. I swallowed hard. I’d have to ask Viktor for some way to reach them. I didn't have a choice.

With a deep breath, I stood up and made my way to his office. I knocked, and when I pushed the door open, he was there, deep in conversation with Yuvi.

Yuvi’s eyes landed on me briefly, cold and unwelcoming, I knew he didn't like me. Not that I cared anyway.

“I need to speak with you,” I said, my voice firm.

Viktor looked at Yuvi and nodded. With a clenched jaw and a reluctant nod, Yuvi stepped out, brushing past me.

The moment we were alone, Viktor leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “What brings you to my office, Anya?”

There was amusement in his voice. I hesitated, I wanted to just go back inside my room, but I didn’t have that luxury. Not when my mother might be worried sick.

“I need access to a phone,” I said, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “Just to send an email to my mother so she knows I’m safe.”

He frowned, studying me. “And what do I get out of it?”

I felt my cheeks burn, but I kept my face neutral. This was just another game to him, but to me… it was a lifeline.

Swallowing my pride, I reached for the table speaker and scrolled through the music files until I found the one I’d been searching for—a slow, haunting song I’d danced to in countless rehearsals.

I pressed play, the music filling the room softly. I met his gaze, took a breath, and let myself slip into the movements.

I slowly stripped my clothes, he looked at me and I could feel his chest heave slowly. I stripped until it remained the black bra and matching lace panties.

He had curated all those outfits in my wardrobe. I swayed to the beat, I hate him. I hate him.

Step by step, I moved closer, my gaze never leaving his. A low, guttural sound escaped his lips, and I could feel the tension rising between us.

I hated the way my body was responding, it shouldn't but i couldn't stop myself. His eyes burned into me as I danced, there was an unmistakable heat in his gaze.

And as I drew near, I reached out to him, my fingers grazing his shoulder before trailing down, his chest, circling his nipples, his chest.

I could feel the tension curled in his muscles, and I knew he was restraining himself from touching him with the way he clenched his chair.

Before I knew it, he stood, closing the space between us in an instant, his hands gripping my waist as he pinned me against the wall. I gasped, my pulse racing as he leaned in, his breath was warm against my ear.

“What are you willing to give me for that phone Anya?” he murmured, his voice rough, making me shiver.

I held his gaze, my voice barely a whisper. “Whatever it takes.”

Was I ready to have sex with him? I hated him but my body and the lady down there were saying otherwise.

Viktor's eyes lingered on me as he held me pinned to the wall, his breath still warm against my skin.

But then he gave a sharp sniff, as if catching himself, and took a step back. His face hardened as he turned away, moving to his desk.

He opened a drawer and pulled out a phone, one that looked brand new, then handed it to me.

“Here,” he said, his tone cool again. “Get dressed.”

I slipped back into my shirt and pants as quickly as I could, feeling my cheeks burn. Without another word, I grabbed the phone and left his office, my head spinning.

I hated him—for making me feel so helpless, for making me feel anything at all. I hated him for the way he could make me tremble.

I nearly ran back to my room, slamming the door shut behind me. My hands shook as I powered on the phone and quickly typed out an email to my mom. Her reply came fast, asking me, Where the hell have you been, Anya?*

I couldn’t tell her the truth, not even close. So I kept it simple. I’m fine, Mom. Just… a bit busy. Miss you.

With that done, I took a deep breath, my fingers hesitating over the screen. I dialed Celine’s number.

It felt hopeless—I didn’t even know if she still had her phone, if it was even on her, or if she’d ever be able to answer it. But I had to try.

The phone rang, once… twice… and I was just about to give up when it connected.

“Celine!” I almost shouted, relief washing over me.

But then I froze. The voice on the other end was not hers. It was a man’s voice, low and smug, with a chuckle that made my skin crawl.

“Well, well,” he said, sounding amused. “What a perfect little connection between the two of you.”

I swallowed, my voice shaky. “Who… who is this?”

The man’s laugh sent a chill down my spine. “Celine’s new owner,” he replied smoothly. “Here, let me put her on. Just for a moment.”

There was a shuffling sound, and then Celine’s weak, trembling voice came through. “Anya?” she whispered, barely audible.

My chest tightened with rage. “Don’t you dare hurt her!” I snarled, my fists clenched.

The man laughed again, and there was a cruel edge to it. “Oh, I won’t… as long as you’re willing to cooperate.”

I forced myself to stay calm. “What do you want?”

His voice was as cold as ice. “I need information,” he said slowly, like he was savoring the words.

“Spy on Viktor Romanov. I need to know what’s going on in his fortress—his plans, his movements. Everything. And that’s the only way your little friend here will stay safe.”

“Are you insane?” I spat, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

But then I heard a sudden sound—a loud buzzing noise—and Celine screamed. My heart dropped, panic racing through me. “No! Please, don’t hurt her! I’ll… I’ll do it,” I said, my voice breaking.

The man gave a pleased hum. “Good girl. Just remember, I need details, every single one. Use your charms, Anya. Make him trust you. And don’t waste time. The longer you delay…” He trailed off, letting the threat hang.

“Yes. I’ll… I’ll do it.”

“Smart girl,” he said smoothly, and then the line went dead.