Chapter Twenty-Eight - Aleksandr
Two weeks after Elena’s integration into operations, I order comprehensive background checks on everyone with access to sensitive intelligence. Standard protocol after an abduction: verify loyalty, close vulnerabilities, ensure the organization is airtight.
Viktor brings me the preliminary findings late on a Thursday. His expression is carefully neutral, which immediately puts me on alert.
“Problem?” I ask.
“Anomaly.” He sets down a tablet. “Financial trail that doesn’t make sense. Communications intercepts that raise questions.”
I scan the data. At first, it looks like noise—normal operational chatter, routine transactions. Then I see the pattern.
Small deposits. Always just under reporting thresholds. Routed through accounts tied to shell companies that trace back to… Petrov operations.
The name that keeps appearing makes my blood run cold.
Sergei.
“This can’t be right,” I say. “Sergei’s been with us for eight years. He’s bled for this organization. Took a bullet in Prague, lost two fingers in the Moscow territorial war. He’s loyal.”
“I thought so too.” Viktor pulls up more data. “The pattern goes back years. Before your father died. Before you took over. Dead drops. Coded communications. Money moving in both directions.”
I force myself to look at the evidence objectively. Strip away personal bias, years of trust, the bond forged in violence.
The picture that emerges is devastating.
Sergei was never turned. He was planted. A Petrov operative embedded during my father’s purge of suspected traitors, positioned perfectly to earn trust by surviving, bleeding, proving loyalty through endurance rather than treachery.
“How deep does this go?” I ask.
“Deep enough that he has access to security protocols, meeting schedules, operational details.” Viktor’s jaw tightens. “Deep enough that he could have facilitated Elena’s abduction. Could have told Artyom exactly when and where to intercept her.”
Rage hits fast and cold. “Verify it. Every transaction, every communication, every connection. I want absolute certainty before we move.”
“Already in progress.” Viktor hesitates. “Sir, if he realizes we’re investigating—”
“Then we move faster.”
***
The complete picture takes forty-eight hours to assemble.
Sergei isn’t just a planted operative. He’s the lynchpin of a long-game strategy. The Petrovs embedded him years ago, betting on chaos, betting on internal fractures they could exploit.
I handed them the perfect opportunity when I started consolidating power, eliminating rivals, stabilizing Sharov authority.
Until Elena.
The pattern shifts three months ago—right when Elena entered my life permanently. Sergei’s communications intensify.His reports to Petrov contacts become more frequent, more detailed.
Elena represents stability. A legitimate heir, a partnership that strengthens rather than fractures, an anchor that roots me instead of making me vulnerable.
Everything the Petrovs were counting on me not having.
“He’s planning something,” Viktor says, pointing to encrypted messages we managed to crack. “References to ‘final window’ and ‘decapitation strategy.’ He thinks this is his last chance before the heir is born and your position becomes unassailable.”
“When?”
“The alliance meeting. Next week. He’s been positioning himself to handle security, adjust routes, ensure backup is delayed.” Viktor meets my eyes. “He’s going to try to kill you in front of witnesses. Make it look like rival factions, fracture the organization in the chaos.”
