“Your own risk.” He said it without looking at me, his attention already shifting back to the documents on his desk. Dismissal wrapped in permission.
That was all I needed.
The trap had been set.
***
The club was packed by the time I arrived that evening. Friday night crowd, all expensive suits and designer dresses, money flowing as freely as the vodka. I navigated through the crush of bodies toward our usual booth in the back, the private section where Bratva business got conducted away from prying eyes.
Kirill was already there. Alone. Drinking what looked like his third vodka, if the empty glasses on the table were any indication, and his jaw was ticking with the kind of tension that preceded violence.
I hadn’t even made it to the booth before he was on his feet, closing the distance between us in three long strides and shoving me hard in the chest. I stumbled back a step, more from surprise than force, and caught myself against a nearby column.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he snarled, and his voice was low enough not to carry but sharp enough to cut.
“Nice to see you too,” I said, straightening my jacket. “Buy me a drink first, at least.”
“Don’t.” His hand shot out and grabbed my collar, yanking me closer until we were practically nose to nose. “Don’t you dare fucking joke with me right now.”
The raw fury in his eyes made something cold settle in my gut. Kirill didn’t lose his temper. Didn’t let emotion overridecalculation. The fact that he was this close to snapping meant whatever he’d found was worse than I’d anticipated.
“Let go of me,” I said quietly. “And we’ll talk like adults.”
He held on for another beat, his knuckles white against the black fabric of my shirt, before releasing me with a disgusted sound and stalking back to the booth. I followed, settling across from him and waiting for the explosion.
“You broke into the prohibited files.” His voice was flat. Dead. “You hacked through three layers of encryption that I specifically designed to be impenetrable, and you left a fucking trace.”
“I covered my tracks.”
“Not well enough.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table, his blue eyes boring into mine. “I designed that surveillance system, Drew. I know every node, every access point, every backdoor. And I know exactly how to spot when someone’s been where they shouldn’t be.”
Shit.
“Who else knows?” I asked carefully.
“Right now? Just me. But anyone monitoring the right nodes could spot your breach if they’re looking for it. And considering Rafael just authorized full surveillance on Cassandra’s activities, how long do you think it’ll take before someone connects those dots?”
My hands clenched into fists under the table. “What exactly did you find?”
“Everything.” He knocked back the rest of his vodka and slammed the glass down hard enough to rattle the table. “Your access logs. The files you pulled. The investigation you opened into David Miller and Elena. You went digging in dirt that was buried for a fucking reason, Drew. What were you thinking?”
I wasn’t. That was the problem. I’d been operating on instinct and desperation, trying to understand the truth before itdestroyed Cassandra. Trying to find a way to protect her without fully grasping the scope of what I was dealing with.
“I needed to know,” I said finally. “Needed to understand what she was up against.”
“She?” Kirill’s laugh was bitter. “You did all this for Cassandra? For a girl you’ve known for what, a few weeks? Are you completely out of your goddamn mind?”
“Probably.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking.” I met his eyes, letting him see the truth of it. The certainty that had settled into my bones despite every logical argument against it. “I needed to know what was happening to her. Needed to understand why she was falling apart. And the only way to do that was to access the files she’d been trying to reach.”
Kirill stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “Do you have any idea what you’ve risked? Not just your position. Not just your relationship with Rafael. Your entire fucking life, Drew. If he finds out you’ve been accessing sealed investigations, digging into family history that was classified at the highest levels, he will end you. Cousin or not.”
“I know.”
“Then why? Why take that risk for someone who’s been lying to you, who’s been feeding intel to an outside source, who’s been systematically betraying everything the Bratva stands for?”
