“He’s compromised,” Boris continued calmly. “You see it, don’t you? He chose her.”
Arman watched the girl turn away from the window, guarded by the former SEAL Boris hadn’t anticipated.
“Yes,” Arman replied. “I see it.”
“And now?” Boris asked.
“Now he will burn the Armenians for crimes they didn’t commit,” Arman said. “And you will look like the only voice of reason left.”
Boris smiled. Arman could hear it through the phone.
“Exactly.”
That’s when Arman realized they had played right into Boris’s hands by shooting him. Boris looked like the victim and the Armenians were “out for blood” against the Bratva.
They should’ve killed him after all.
The pregnancy test photo had been Boris’s idea.
“Fear, not death,” Boris had instructed. “Make her understand how close and very real the danger is. She’s weak. Maksim will realize she’s the problem.”
Except Maksim hadn’t.
He’d doubled security. Pulled men from Russia. Moved her like a queen under siege.
That changed things.
“She has to go,” Boris had concluded after that. Calm. Regretful. Convincing himself, maybe? “It will hurt him, yes. But it will ultimately save him. And when she’s gone, he’ll see I was right.”
Arman hadn’t argued.
Not because he agreed—but because arguing with men like Boris only made them more dangerous.
He took another drag, watching Archer shift position inside the safe house.
Ex-military. Competent. Loyal.
A complication. But not an impossible one.
“This ends when she dies,” the Armenian beside him said flatly. He was getting tired of this assignment. It was cold. They’d been watching her for days without doing a damn thing. It didn’t pay enough.
“No,” Arman replied. “This ends when Maksim knows who did it.”
The man frowned. “You’re going to betray Boris?”
Arman lowered the binoculars, his eyes cold. “Boris is betraying everyone.”
Including Maksim.
Including the Bratva.
Including himself. If there was one thing Arman hated, it was being lied to or not trusted. If he was hired for a job, then trust him to do the job. Don’t hire someone else to do the job as well.
Men like Boris believed they were untouchable because they never got their hands dirty. They forgot something important.
Blood always finds its way back to the source. This time, Arman was prepared to guide it.
Arman crushed his cigarette beneath his boot and stepped away from the edge.
