“I carry it with me every day. It went on for another five years of misery because I didn’t have the balls to put an end to it.”
“Stop,” she says, fiercer this time. “You didn’t do this. You didn’t traffic those women. You didn’t brutalize them. You didn’t profit off their suffering. It’s not your burden to carry anymore.”
Something snaps in my chest, years of shame and guilt cracking under the weight of her words.
She weaves her fingers into my hair. “Who tipped off the Feds?”
I smile to myself. “No one knows, but it forced my father to close the Network down. He paid off authorities to drop all charges.”
“The past is the past,” she says with absolute conviction. “You will lead differently.”
I pull her closer, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Yeah. I will.”
CHAPTER
FORTY-ONE
DINARA
The warehouse looms aheadas our convoy rolls to a stop. Through the tinted window, two more armored vehicles pull up beside us, flanking our position. Kirill went with maximum security today. He’s not taking chances after the last attack.
“You ready?” he asks. I glance at him, then back at the building ahead. My laptop sits beside me. Days of work compressed into code and hardware I hope is the key to saving us all.
“Talk to me. What’s going through your head?”
What’s going through my head is I’m about to walk into a room full of crime family heirs who have zero reason to believe in me. If my plan has holes, they’ll find them. If I screw this up, people die.
Kirill could die.
When did that become the thing that scares me most?
“These people have zero reason to trust me. They think you’re biased bringing me on for this mission because, well…” I hold up my ring hand to make my point.
A smirk tugs at his mouth, dark satisfaction crossing his face at the sight of his ring on my finger. It’s inconvenient as hell that he looks this good when I’m trying to stay focused, but his raven hair, strong features, and silver-blue eyes are a lethal combination.
“I spoke to each and every one of them before this meeting. They know you have mad skills or you wouldn’t be here. If any of them have a single doubt about your seat at this table, they’d better be smart enough to keep their mouths shut.”
The tightness in my chest eases and I take a slow breath. I’d feel better walking in there as Dinara, Syndicate hacker, but no one here can know my real identity. They wouldn’t trust a Syndicate operative to work with them. More than that, if Ruslan or his people caught wind of who I am, things could get messy. So I remain Evelina. Former Velour waitress, MTI student, and now Kirill’s wife.
“In a few minutes they’ll hear what you have to say and they’ll know how fucking good you are. And if anyone gives you trouble, I’ll remind them you’re my wife.”
He says it like it’s real. Like we actually have a future together. But he married me for my skills and to ensure my loyalty. It’s not love. It’s … something, but I know better than to let myself believe otherwise.
When this is over and the Ghost is dead, he’ll have a bratva to rebuild and a legacy to secure. He’ll realize he doesn’t need me anymore, won’t want the complication of a wife from the heat of battle. For all his talk of how real this is, I know better than to let my heart get caught up in a temporary alliance.
I clear my throat. “How can you be sure this plan won’t get back to your father?”
“Every heir in that room is sick of being told how to run shit by their fathers. They’ve got as much to lose as we do if word gets out.”
The car door opens and one of his men offers me a hand out. I step into the crisp air, and Kirill’s men immediately surround us.
The warehouse opens up into a large industrial space. Everyone’s already here, seated around a makeshift table. Matvey and Dem nod at us as we enter.
Kirill gave me a rundown of everyone here beforehand. Kirill had me study dossiers this morning before we left the penthouse so it’s easy to figure out who’s who.
Elio Valenti sits across from the Baronov brothers, every inch the future don in his tailored suit and calculated expression. Vincent Wu sits beside Gigi, his right hand. She runs logistics for the Triad. She’s got a buzz cut and a nose ring. I have a girl crush on her already.
Marcus Doyle has one arm flung over the back of his chair, looking at ease despite the tension crackling through the room. Yuki Tanaka scrolls her phone with studied disinterest.
