“You thought you had protection,” I finish, low.
Because he did.
Filipp’s protection.
I step back just once. Processing.
If Filipp’s people are usingmyreal estate to run meth ops… either he’s gotten sloppy, or he’s gotten desperate. Both are useful. But if this idiot in the chair is the link?
I glance at Timur.
He nods once, already catching up.
“We flip him,” I say quietly. “If he can give us names, locations, timelines—”
“We bury Filipp before he sees it coming,” Arseny finishes, eyes alight with something sharp and satisfied.
The man in the chair is too busy trying not to piss himself to understand what he just gave away.
“Boss,” Timur says, stepping forward, “there’s more.”
He pulls a small flash drive from his jacket pocket. Holds it up.
“We found this in his bag. Labeled ‘insurance.’”
Arseny snorts. “Jesus, that’s subtle.”
I take the drive. Turn it over in my hand.
“What’s on it?”
Timur’s mouth presses into a line. “Encrypted. But the file names? They’re dates. And payment logs. And one folder marked…” He hesitates. “Belov South.”
My jaw tightens.
That’s Filipp’s old laundering route. The one he claimed he shut down.
Which means either he’s been hiding income from the Bratva… or there’s a whole second empire being built behind my back.
“Get it cracked,” I say.
Timur nods.
I lean down one last time and stare into the idiot’s wide, ruined eyes.
“You just bought yourself a heartbeat,” I murmur. “But if you lie to me again, I’ll take it back.”
He nods so fast his neck might snap.
I turn away.
And for just one second, I wonder—
If she knew this side of me… would she still have smiled?
Would she still be in my bed?
Would I even care?
