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I grab the secure phone that connects me to our most protected asset, a direct line to Sofia. The connection completes before the first ring finishes.

"Yes?" Anna answers immediately, voice tense with controlled fear.

"Secure confirmation alpha zero seven." The code phrase establishes identity and provides reassurance without revealing tactical details.

"Confirmed secure." Anna's relief is audible. "Package resting comfortably. No signs of surveillance or compromise."

"Maintain blackout protocols until authorization code whiskey tango seven." I inject confidence I don't fully feel into my voice. "No movement regardless of external contact. Trust no one, verify everything."

"Understood." The connection terminates, leaving me momentarily unmoored despite the tactical machine already in motion around me.

"Viktor." Anton's voice pulls me back. "We have him."

The security feed shows Dmitri, bloodied and restrained, in one of our secondary locations. The informant in our midst, captured by our external surveillance team as he attempted to rendezvous with Markov's people.

"Bring him here."

Ten minutes later, Dmitri kneels before me in the center of the command room, hands zip-tied behind his back, face already swollen from what I assume to be Markov’s initial questioning. Though he had no reason to take blows for me, I am sure he did his best to try to protect the pakhan’s daughter until the price was too high. Blood drips from his split lip onto the concrete floor.

"How long?" I ask, my voice dangerously soft. "How long have you known?"

He spits blood onto the floor, a final act of defiance. "I know nothing."

"What does Markov know about Sofia?" I step closer, allowing him to see what waits in my eyes. Not the violence of a Bratva lieutenant, but the cold, focused rage of a father whose child is threatened.

Something flickers in his face—fear, perhaps the first genuine emotion I've seen from him. His expression goes blank. "Everything. Location, security protocols, extraction routes. He's known for days."

The information lands like a physical blow, but I don't let it show. "And yet he waited until tonight. Why?"

Dmitri's laugh holds no humor, just resignation. "He wanted to be sure of you. Of her. To confirm his daughter's betrayal was complete before he moved. Tonight was the perfect plan—let you think you were closing the trap while his was already set."

I move with a speed that surprises even Anton, hand closing around Dmitri's throat. "What does he plan for Anastasia?"

"What he does to all traitors," Dmitri chokes out. "Break her. Rebuild her. Erase everything that isn't Markov. Starting with making her watch you die."

Red edges my vision, but I force it back. Emotion is a luxury I can't afford. Not now.

"And Sofia?" The question tears from me, raw and frightened in a way I never allow myself to be.

Something like pity crosses Dmitri's face. "She's Markov blood. He'll raise her as his own—the proper way, without her traitor mother's weakness or her father's tainted influence."

I release him abruptly, stepping back as cold clarity washes over me. "You've served your purpose."

I nod at one of my men behind Dmitri.

Dmitri sighs in resignation, eyes looking at me as he awaits his fate.

The single shot echoes through the command center, Dmitri's body crumpling to the floor. No satisfaction in the kill, just necessity. One less threat to my family. One less informant.

"Viktor." Anton appears at my side, his expression giving nothing away about the execution. "Northern facility schematics complete. Three access points identified, heavy security presence indicating preparation beyond standard protocols."

"They've been ready since I arrived." The realization forms with bitter clarity. "Markov knew enough to establish contingencies, to identify vulnerabilities."

Before I can continue, the security alert chimes with an unexpected code—perimeter breach at our current location. The surveillance feed reveals a familiar black SUV approaching our main gate, three figures emerging with the distinctive posture of Bratva affiliation.

"Nikolai Sokolov." Anton can't quite hide his surprise. "With two security personnel. No visible weapons, though standard concealment likely."

My cousin. The man who revealed my identity to Mikhail Markov, setting part of this catastrophe in motion. The blood relation I've used only slightly throughout my infiltration operation.