The salt from the sea still clung to my hair when Viktor's phone buzzed against the glass table. We had just returned from the beach, our skin warm from the sun, sand still clinging to my ankles. I reached for the water pitcher, smiling at the memory of Viktor pulling me into the waves earlier, when his tone dropped like the sky before a storm.
He answered the call smoothly at first, all business like charm. "Douglas," he said, his voice steady, but his jaw tightened.
I tilted my head, my glass half-raised. "Who is it?" I whispered, curiosity crawling through my chest.
He didn't answer. His eyes darkened as whoever was on the other side spoke. I couldn't hear a thing, but the way Viktor's shoulders stiffened, the way his lips pressed into a hard line, made my stomach twist.
Finally, he exhaled sharp through his nose and muttered, "Yes. Understood. I'll be there."
The phone clicked shut, and silence filled the room. He stood still, staring out past the balcony, where the horizon burned gold over the water. His posture was stone.
"Viktor?" My voice came out smaller than I intended. "What's going on?"
He turned to me slowly, his eyes unreadable, the kind of look that could freeze someone mid-step. "We're leaving now."
The words sliced the air between us.
I blinked, confused. "Leaving? You mean—what? The hotel? Why?"
"Not the hotel. Miami." His tone was clipped, final. "Pack your things. The jet leaves in two hours."
The pit in my stomach widened. I stepped closer, my hand brushing his arm, needing him to soften, to tell me something—anything. "Please, Viktor. You can't just shut me out. At least tell me what's happening."
He lowered his gaze to mine, his stare heavy, cold, but beneath it something flickered anger, fear, I couldn't tell. Something came up at the firm. That's all you need to know.
"That's all?" I asked, incredulous. You drag me away from here with no explanation? Do you have any idea what it feels like being left in the dark like this?
His jaw hardened, and for a moment I thought he might snap. Instead, his voice turned iron. "Layla. Pack. Now."
I bit down on every word I wanted to throw at him. The new, sun-kissed version of myself we had built these past few days dimmed like a candle in the wind. I turned, walked into the bedroom, and folded my dresses with shaking hands.
The jet ride back felt colder than any New York winter. Viktor didn't hold me this time, didn't tease or pour champagne. He sat with his phone in hand, typing fast, his face carved into stone. I stared out at the night sky, trying to convince myself this wasn't déjà vu—the familiar sensation of being pushed aside, of being the afterthought.
By the time we landed and made it back to the penthouse, the city lights looked harsh, nothing like the gentle sun in Miami.
Viktor barely let go of his suitcase before grabbing his coat again.
"Where are you going now?" I asked, following him toward the door. My voice trembled with the weight of all my unasked questions.
"Don't wait up," he muttered, not even looking at me and then the door shut.
I stood in the quiet, my chest tightening. Hours dragged by, every tick of the clock scratching at my nerves. My phone burned in my hand. I typed his name once, twice, and deleted it. Calling him felt like crossing a line I wasn't ready for. So I waited.
By midnight, exhaustion pulled me onto the couch, but sleep wouldn't come. When the door finally creaked open, I jolted upright.
Viktor stepped in, his tie undone, shadows under his eyes. He poured himself a drink before even acknowledging me.
"You're still awake," he said flatly.
"Of course I am. You disappear without a word, and I'm supposed to sleep peacefully?" My voice cracked, louder than I meant. "What's happening, Viktor? Please, don't keep me guessing."
He took a slow sip, then set the glass down. His eyes met mine, cold steel softening just a fraction.
"A huge fraud has been discovered," he said, each word deliberate. "The firm's accounts. Millions redirected."
I froze, my lips parting."Fraud?"
"Yes." He rubbed a hand across his face and it's not random. It's traced to a private account. The investigation is ongoing to determine whose it is."
His tone ended there, clipped, leaving me standing in the silence, heart pounding.