"Roman." Lev's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. "This one's ready to talk."
The young soldier is trembling now, tears soaking through his blindfold. "Please," he gasps. "Please, I'll tell you what I know. Just… just don't kill me."
I crouch in front of him, close enough that he can feel my breath. "Then talk."
The words spill out in a desperate rush. Names of Abram's lieutenants who coordinated the attacks. Dates and locations of meetings where strategy was discussed. Details about the weapons used, stolen from our own armory through a contact we haven't identified yet. It's not everything, but it's a start.
"The financial stuff," I press. "The IRS audit. The frozen bank accounts. Who's feeding them information?"
"I don't know about that," he sobs. "That's above my level. But I heard… I heard there's someone inside your organization. Someone close to you. They're the one giving Abram everything."
My blood runs cold. A mole. Inside my organization. Someone I trust has been betraying me to Abram, feeding him intelligence, helping him destroy everything I've built.
Lev's dark eyes meet mine, and I see the same cold fury reflected there. We'll find whoever it is. And when we do, they'll wish they'd never been born.
The other three soldiers break after that, each one adding pieces to the puzzle. By the time we're finished, we have names, dates,and locations. Enough to start building a case that will prove Abram's guilt to the other families and the Moscow delegates.
"Get it all documented," I order Lev. "Videos, surveillance footage, financial records, emails. Whatever we can find to corroborate what they've told us. I want proof that will hold up under scrutiny."
Lev nods, already pulling out his phone to coordinate with our intelligence team. "What about them?" He gestures to the four soldiers, all of them slumped and bleeding on the concrete.
I study them for a long moment. They're liabilities now, witnesses to our methods. The smart move would be to eliminate them, to ensure they can never testify against us. But I think about Eva, about the woman waiting upstairs who's trying so hard to see past the monster to something worth saving.
"Keep them here," I decide. "Comfortable but confined. We might need them to testify later, to corroborate the evidence we gather."
Lev's eyebrow raises slightly, but he doesn't question my decision. He knows me well enough to understand that Eva has changed my calculations, made me consider options I would have dismissed before.
I leave the basement and climb the stairs to the main floor, my knuckles throbbing, my shirt spotted with blood despite my care. The estate is quiet, most of the staff already retired for the night. I check my watch and grimace. Past midnight. Eva is probably asleep by now, exhausted from the day.
But when I enter the master bedroom, I find her very much awake.
Candles flicker on every surface, casting warm light across the space. Eva sits propped against the headboard, wearing nothing but one of my dress shirts, the white fabric barely covering her thighs. Her blonde hair is loose around her shoulders, and her brown eyes track my movement as I close the door behind me.
On the nightstand sits a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries, and the sight makes something warm bloom in my chest. She's been waiting for me. Planning this.
"You're late," she says, her voice soft but not accusatory.
"Business took longer than expected." I move to the bathroom, washing the blood from my hands with methodical precision. When I return, Eva is watching me with an expression I can't quite read.
"Come here," she says, patting the bed beside her.
I settle onto the mattress, and she immediately curls against my side, her hand resting over my heart. The simple gesture of affection makes my throat tight with emotions I'm not accustomed to feeling.
"I was thinking," Eva begins, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest through my shirt. "About us. About everything that's happened. How we started, where we are now."
I wait, giving her space to gather her thoughts. Her hand drifts lower, and I feel my cock stir with interest despite my exhaustion.
"I love you." The words are quiet but absolute. "I know it's complicated. I know you're dangerous and our relationship started all wrong. But I love you, Roman. I need you to know that."
My chest tightens so hard, I can barely breathe. She loves me. This woman who should run screaming from everything I am, who's seen the monster beneath the expensive suits, who knows exactly what I'm capable of. She loves me anyway.
"Solnyshko," I breathe, cupping her face with both hands. "I love you too. More than I thought possible. More than is probably safe for either of us."
The admission tears from my throat, raw and honest. I've never said those words to anyone except Katya. Never allowed myself to feel this deeply, this completely. But Eva has gotten past every defense I've built, and I'm helpless against the tide of emotion she creates.
Her lips find mine, and the kiss is different from all the others. Slower. Deeper. Filled with something more than just desire. I taste chocolate on her tongue, sweet and rich, and groan against her mouth.
"Make love to me," she whispers. "Not sex. Not fucking. Make love to me, Roman."
