Page 37 of Savage Lies

And that tells me everything I need to know about who I’m dealing with.

My lies won’t hold forever.

If she remembers who she is, I lose her. And I can’t let her go.

10

Katya

The files on Dmitri’s computer painted a picture that made my blood sing with recognition instead of horror.

Financial records showed payments to men with names like “The Cleaner” and “Problem Solver.”

Territory maps were marked with red zones where bodies had been buried.

Photographs of competitors who’d crossed the Kozlov family and wound up floating face-down in the Moskva River.

Every document confirmed what I’d suspected since day one: My husband runs one of Moscow’s most ruthless criminal organizations.

What bothered me wasn’t the brutality; it was how familiar it all felt.

I’ve seen those documents before, and as crazy as it sounds, I don’t think it was as his wife.

“Our guest accessed my personal computer today while I was in meetings,” Dmitri tells his brother. “Went through highly confidential files. Learned things about our business operations that could get us all executed.”

I square my shoulders and school my face into what I hope looks like confusion rather than the satisfaction I’m feeling. Finally, we’re getting somewhere.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I lie without blinking.

Alexei glances between us, and his mouth falls open. “She broke into your office? Are you sure?”

“The logs don’t lie.”

“Maybe the logs are wrong,” I offer, though we all know they’re not. “I’ve been here all day, just like I told you. Reading and resting.”

“The logs don’t lie, kotyonok. You were in there for hours.”

I press my thumb to the crescent on my wrist and force myself to breathe evenly.

“Alright.” I drop the innocent act. “Yes, I went through your computer.”

Alexei’s eyebrows shoot toward his hairline. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m tired of living in a fishbowl with no explanation for why my life feels like someone else’s costume,” I continue. “You want to know why I snooped? Because nothing about my supposed identity makes sense. People look at me like they’re afraid I’ll remember something I shouldn’t, and you treat me like a prisoner instead of a wife.”

“You could have asked me anything you wanted to know.”

“Right. You’ve been so forthcoming.”

I cross my arms and plant my feet. I’m done playing the confused invalid. “I know what you do for a living now, Dmitri. You might have told me before that you were involved in some gray areas of business, but it’s bigger than that, isn’t it?”

His jaw works as he stares at me, and I can see him deciding how much to reveal. Alexei shifts his weight, and his hand moves toward what I’m guessing is a concealed weapon.

“Alexei,” Dmitri warns without taking his eyes off me. “Give us some privacy.”

“Are you sure that’s wise? She just admitted to?—”

“Out.”