Page 90 of Innocent Prey of the Bratva

Price? Four million?

I go cold.

It’s on a kill list. A literal printed sheet with names, status updates, and monetary figures beside them. There are other names, most I don’t know, but mine—mine—is the one that’s circled. Underlined.

Double-underlined.

My legs almost give out. I grab the edge of the desk to steady myself. My breath comes short and quick. The walls press in around me.

This…this doesn’t make sense. But it does. It makes too much sense. I’ve been living with the enemy all this time and now, I must make a decision that’ll determine whether or not I get out of this alive.

Chapter 22 – Kaz

I’m just about to go after Violet when Maxim steps into my path, Niko at his side.

“I’ve been waiting in your office,” Niko says.

“What’s going on?”

He throws Arina’s burner phone on the bed. “It’s not a fluke,” he says. “The burner’s data matched. The number was registered under a ghost code traced back to Arina’s private terminal. They were sending updates every twelve hours, just like we thought.”

Niko pulls a cigarette out of his pocket but doesn’t light it. “Your gut was right. The bag, the phone, the colors—it’s all theirs.”

My jaw tightens. I should feel vindicated.

Instead, I feel sick.

“I don’t want to deal with it,” I say. The words fall from my mouth like lead. “I don’t want to see their face again once it’s done.”

Niko gives me a look that almost passes for sympathy. Almost. “What do you want to do?”

“I want them buried.” My voice is low. Final. “Transfer them to a Volkov black site. Quietly. No trace. Make it clean.”

Niko nods. “Done.”

Maxim shakes his head. “I still can’t believe that Arina did this.”

Niko barks out a laugh. “Well…come help me transport them to my car. I’ll send them to Chicago today.”

We all go down to the basement together. The basement is cold, silent, except for the low buzz of the generator and the slow dripping of a pipe somewhere overhead. Arina sits alone inthe corner, wrists cuffed, blood dried at the side of their mouth. They look up as we enter, like they’ve been expecting me.

They don’t say a word.

Neither do I.

Maxim steps forward and wordlessly unlocks the cuffs. The sound of metal clinks against the concrete. Arina rubs their wrists but doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t thank him. Just stares.

Maxim grabs their arm, not rough but firm, and pulls them to their feet. Arina moves stiffly, the scrape of their boots echoing as he leads them across the room toward the stairway.

They walk past me slowly.

Then, right when they’re level with me, they turn their head slightly—just enough.

“You’re losing yourself because of her,” they whisper, almost like it’s a confession. “You think keeping her alive and safe makes you a man, but it only makes you weak.”

My fists clench.

“You will keep killing people for her,” they go on, “but she will leave you. Just wait.”