Chapter 4 - The Midnight Eviction Notice
The video on my phone screen lit up the dark, candlelit table with a harsh, blue glow.
My breath hitched in my throat.
It was Marcus’s apartment.
Specifically, the living room where we had spent three years arguing over bills and watching late-night television.
Through the screen, I watched three massive men in dark suits—the exact same kind of stone-faced enforcers who guarded Viktor downstairs—standing calmly inside the apartment.
Marcus stood in the center of the room, looking pale, terrified, and shaking in his expensive gym clothes.
A sleek leather suitcase lay open on the coffee table, half-packed with his designer sneakers and folded shirts.
“What… what is this?” I breathed, staring across the table at Viktor in sheer disbelief.
Viktor hadn't even touched his phone.
He simply watched my reaction, his dark eyes calm and unreadable.
“A correction of the timeline,” Viktor said smoothly, cutting a piece of his raspberry tart. “He told you the apartment was paid through the month, did he not?”
“Yes,” I whispered, watching the video as one of the guards gently but firmly handed Marcus a stack of cash—my security deposit back, plus interest.
“He lied about that, too,” Viktor continued softly. “The lease is in your name, Sarah. Always has been. I had my property management division purchase the building this afternoon. Technically, Marcus was an unauthorized subtenant squatting in your home.”
On the screen, Marcus stammered frantically at the enforcers, holding up his hands in defense.
“You can't just throw me out! I have a new girlfriend, I have plans—”
One of the guards—a towering man with a scar across his chin—spoke in a voice like gravel grinding together.
“Mr. Kozlov sends his regards. The Uber is waiting downstairs, Mr. Holloway. Don't forget your toothbrush.”
The video cut to black.
My phone stopped vibrating.
For a long, agonizing moment, the penthouse was completely silent except for the gentle, melancholic strains of the string quartet in the corner.
I stared at Viktor, my chest rising and falling rapidly.
“You... you bought my apartment building? Just like that?”
“Real estate in Manhattan is a sound investment,” Viktor replied smoothly, taking a sip of his champagne. “And getting toxic elements out of your living space is a public health necessity.”
“Viktor, this is insane!” I hissed, though a wild, bubbling laughter was clawing its way up my throat. “You can’t just buy buildings and evict people because they ruined my birthday!”
“Watch me,” he murmured, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that made my knees weak beneath the table. “You spent three years shrinking yourself to fit into that man’s narrow little life, Sarah. You carried his laundry, listened to his excuses, and cried yourself to sleep while he planned to discard you. That ends tonight. You are done being an afterthought.”
Hearing him say those words—the exact dark thoughts I had hidden away in my own mind for months—shattered the last remaining walls around my heart.
A tear slipped down my cheek, catching the candlelight.
Before I could wipe it away, Viktor was standing beside my chair.
He knelt down on one knee, bringing himself eye-level with me.
His large, warm hand reached up, his thumb gently wiping the tear from my skin.
May you like
His touch was astonishingly tender for a man who casually orchestrated midnight evictions through private security syndicates.
“No more tears for cowards,” Viktor whispered, his voice vibrating through my whole body. “Today is your birthday, Sarah. And we are just getting started.”
