Page 11

Sarah

Two days have passed since I made my deal with Ivan, and now I find myself sitting in a dimly lit meeting room surrounded by the most powerful men in the Bratva. Ivan has provided me with everything I could ever need, told me countless times I’ll be safe here, and yet I still find myself fighting a hollowness in my stomach.

The tension in the room is palpable, a thick, oppressive weight that settles over my shoulders as I sit across from Ivan, who watches me with those piercing green eyes. He hasn’t said much since we started, simply waiting for me to lay out my plan.

The room is packed with Bratva men, their faces a mix of curiosity and skepticism. They’re not used to seeing someone like me here—an outsider, a former enemy. They know better than to question Ivan’s judgment. Still, I can feel their eyes on me, measuring, judging, wondering if I’m truly worth the risk Ivan has taken.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself before I begin. “I could hack into the Prestons’ accounts easily enough,” I say, my voice clear and confident despite the nerves gnawing at my insides. “The problem is, they’ve already switched the details and moved the money. After what happened, they’re not going to leave anything exposed.”

There’s a murmur of agreement around the table, but the room falls silent again as they wait for me to continue. I glance at Ivan, who gives me a slight nod, his expression unreadable. He’s given me this opportunity, and now it’s up to me to prove my worth.

“In order to get back into their systems,” I continue, “I need access to a top manager’s phone or device. That’s the only way to bypass their security protocols. They’ve tightened everything up since the last breach, but if I can get into one of their devices, I can break through their defenses again.”

The room remains silent, the men around the table exchanging glances. They know what I’m asking for isn’t easy. Getting close enough to a top Preston manager to access their phone is no small feat. It’s risky, and it requires a level of finesse that not everyone in this room possesses.

I’m not finished yet. I turn my gaze to Yuri, the Bratva’s financial manager, who’s sitting a few seats down from Ivan. His face is impassive, but I can see the tension in his posture, the way his fingers drum lightly against the table. He’s nervous, and I know why.

“Yuri,” I say, my voice firm but not accusatory. “Do you remember the day we broke into the Bratva’s system? The day you lost all that money?”

His eyes narrow slightly, and I can see the memory flicker behind them. He nods, though reluctantly. “Of course. It was a massive loss for us.”

I lean forward slightly, my gaze never leaving his. “Do you remember opening a link that day? Something that seemed harmless, maybe even routine?”

There’s a pause, and I see the gears turning in his mind as he searches for the memory. Then, slowly, recognition dawns on his face. He frowns, realization and anger mingling in his expression. “You sent that link?”

I nod, the truth hanging in the air between us. “I did. It was a phishing attack. Once you opened it, I gained access to your device. From there, I had a backdoor into the Bratva’s financial system. That’s how we got in.”

Yuri’s face hardens, his eyes flashing with anger, but there’s also a hint of respect there. He knows how difficult it is to pull off something like that, and now that he understands what happened, he can see the skill involved.

The room buzzes with low murmurs as the other men digest this information. They’re not happy about it, but they can’t deny the effectiveness of the strategy. Now, they know I’m not just some helpless woman they can push around. I’m someone who can deliver results.

Ivan finally speaks, his voice cutting through the tension. “So, you’re saying you need access to one of their top managers’ phones. You’re confident that’s the only way to break into their systems again?”

I meet his gaze, nodding. “Yes. They’ve locked everything down since the last breach. If I can get into one of their devices, I can trace their transactions, track the money, and even disrupt their operations from the inside. I need that access first.”

He leans back in his chair, considering my words. The men around the table watch him closely, waiting for his response. This is the moment that will decide whether they trust me, whether they see me as a valuable asset or a lingering threat.

“You’ve proven your skills,” Ivan says finally, his tone measured. “But this isn’t going to be easy. The Prestons will be on high alert. Getting close to one of their managers will require more than just technical expertise.”

“I know,” I reply, my voice steady. “I also know their systems, their protocols. I can guide your men, help them get what we need. I can do this.”

There’s a moment of silence as Ivan considers my proposal. Then, to my surprise, he smiles—just a faint curve of his lips, but it’s enough to send a shiver down my spine. He’s interested. More than that, he’s impressed.

“Then we’ll do it,” Ivan says, his voice firm with finality. “You’ll work with us to get that access. In return, you’ll have our protection, just as we agreed.”

I nod, relief washing over me, though I keep my expression neutral. This is a victory, but I know better than to show too much emotion in front of these men. They respect strength, not vulnerability.

Yuri, still fuming, shoots me a glare, but he says nothing. He knows I’ve outplayed him, and there’s nothing he can do about it now. The rest of the men seem to accept Ivan’s decision, though I can see the wheels turning in their minds as they reassess their opinions of me.

Ivan doesn’t miss a beat. As the last of the Bratva men leave the room, he turns his attention back to me, his expression unreadable but focused. “So,” he begins, his voice cutting through the tension still hanging in the air, “you know Kace. Where would he transfer the money?”

I pause, letting the question settle as I run through everything I know about Kace Preston. He’s a cautious man, always looking for ways to outmaneuver his enemies. He wouldn’t put the money somewhere obvious, especially after what happened last time. No, he’d hide it where no one would think to look, somewhere that would seem innocuous.

Then it hits me, like a light switching on in my mind. Of course. “Sophia,” I say, the realization dawning on me as I meet Ivan’s gaze. “He’d transfer it to Sophia’s accounts.”

Ivan raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Sophia. His daughter?”

“Yes,” I confirm, my mind working quickly. “Sophia told me once, in confidence, that her father hides money in her accounts to cover up his money laundering. He never told anyone else, not even his closest allies. He thinks it’s the perfect cover—who would suspect his own daughter’s accounts?”

Ivan’s lips curl into a faint smile, a mixture of admiration and calculation. “You think he moved the money there after the last breach?”

“It’s the most logical choice,” I reply. “Kace doesn’t know that I know about Sophia’s accounts. He thinks he’s outsmarted everyone, but this might be our way in.”

Ivan considers this for a moment, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a sleek, black phone. He hands it to me, his expression turning serious. “Send a message to your friend. Tell her you’re in danger, that you need her help.”

I take the phone, my fingers brushing against the cool surface as I look up at him, uncertain. “You want me to trick her?”

“Precisely,” Ivan says, his voice calm, almost indifferent. “You’ll send a call link, something that seems urgent. When she opens it, you’ll gain access to her device, just like you did with Yuri. From there, you can trace the money and bring it back to us.”

The weight of what he’s asking settles on my shoulders, heavy and cold. Sophia was more than just a friend—she was the closest thing I had to family in Kace’s world. Now, I’m being asked to betray her, to use her trust against her in the most intimate way possible.

Yet, as I hold the phone, the memory of Kace’s betrayal surges back, the cold realization that he was willing to have me killed without a second thought. What they did to me, what Kace did to me, was no less cruel than what I’m about to do to Sophia. It’s survival, plain and simple. If I don’t do this, I’ll be dead—just another body in Ivan’s ruthless game.

I nod, my resolve hardening. “I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Ivan says, the smile returning to his face. “If this works, there will be a lot of money coming our way.”

I begin typing the message, my fingers moving quickly over the screen.

Sophia, I need your help. I’m in danger—serious danger. The Bratva has me, and I don’t know what to do. Please, if you get this, call me immediately. Here’s the link. We need to talk.

I insert the link, carefully crafted to give me access to her phone once she opens it.

I hover over the send button for a moment, a final pang of guilt gnawing at me. This isn’t about friendship or loyalty anymore. This is about survival, and right now, Ivan holds my life in his hands. I hit send, watching the message disappear into the ether, knowing that there’s no turning back now.

Ivan leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as he says, “You know what to do, Sarah, if you want to keep your life.”

The words send a chill down my spine, but I meet his gaze with a steady one of my own. “I know.”

Ivan’s eyes linger on me for a moment longer, as if he’s assessing the resolve behind my words. Then, with a slight nod, he steps back, gesturing toward the door. “Let’s go,” he says, his tone curt and businesslike.

I follow him out of the meeting room, my thoughts swirling with everything that’s happened. The men we pass in the hallway barely acknowledge me, their loyalty and attention focused solely on Ivan. But their presence is a constant reminder that I’m under watch, that I’m never truly alone in this place. It’s suffocating, the lack of privacy, the sense that every move I make is being scrutinized.

Ivan walks a step ahead of me, his presence commanding, impossible to ignore. He’s dressed casually, in dark jeans and a fitted black shirt that hints at the strength beneath his calm exterior. The way he moves—confident, purposeful—draws my eye, and I can’t help but notice the way the fabric of his shirt clings to the broad muscles of his back and shoulders. There’s an ease to his power, a controlled intensity that’s both intimidating and, I admit reluctantly, compelling.

I quickly shove that thought aside, irritated with myself. This is Ivan Sharov, a man who sees me as nothing more than a tool for his own gain. As much as I want to ignore it, I can’t deny the spark of attraction that flickers somewhere deep inside, unbidden and unwelcome. Maybe it’s the danger, the undeniable power he exudes, but whatever it is, I push it down, burying it beneath the layers of anger and resentment that fuel my every move.

We reach the front of the building where a sleek black car waits at the curb. A driver stands by the car, his expression impassive as Ivan and I approach. I feel the frustration building inside me, the lack of control over my own life gnawing at me. Every moment I spend under constant surveillance, under Ivan’s thumb, chips away at the thin veneer of composure I’m struggling to maintain.

Ivan opens the car door for me, his eyes meeting mine as he gestures for me to get in. “You should go home,” he says, his tone neutral, almost dismissive. It’s clear he’s not asking—this is another order, another directive in a life that’s becoming increasingly dictated by his will.

I hesitate, glancing up at him. Home means his mansion. “You’re not coming?”

He shakes his head, a faint, unreadable smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “No. I have other things to take care of.”

His response is as enigmatic as the man himself, and I find myself wondering what those “other things” might be. I know better than to ask. Ivan is a man of secrets, of layers hidden beneath layers, and I’m not foolish enough to think he’d reveal anything to me.

With a resigned sigh, I slide into the backseat of the car, the leather cool against my skin. Ivan closes the door behind me, and I watch as he steps back, his figure receding as the car pulls away from the mansion. The driver remains silent, and I’m left alone with my thoughts, the city lights blurring past the window as we drive.

The brief flash of attraction I felt earlier lingers at the edge of my mind, unsettling in its intensity. I force myself to focus on what matters—survival. I made a deal with Ivan, and now I have to follow through. There’s no room for anything else, no room for distraction, no matter how compelling it might be. I’m playing a dangerous game, and the only way to win is to keep my head clear and my heart guarded.