He pauses briefly, then adds more, his voice growing colder.
“Once we narrow down the suspect list, we isolate them. Quietly. No accusations yet. We watch their movements, their meetings, who they talk to. Pressure reveals truth faster than interrogation.”
“And when we know for sure?” I ask calmly.
Sergei’s lips curl slightly. “Then we make an example out of him.”
He says it without hesitation.
“You don’t just kill a traitor, Boss. You destroy him in a way the rest of the organization never forgets. First, you make him confess—publicly if possible. Let everyone see the betrayal with their own eyes.”
He lifts a finger as if counting steps.
“Then you take everything from him. His money. His allies. His reputation. Strip him of every protection he thinks he has.”
Another finger.
“After that…punishment. Slow punishment. Not just death. Pain. Interrogation. Make him reveal everyone he’s ever spoken to, every contact he has. Squeeze him until there’s nothing left.”
His voice grows almost thoughtful.
“Finally…when he’s broken, when he’s begged enough…then you kill him. And you make sure everyone in the organization knows exactly why.”
The room falls quiet.
Sergei exhales slowly, as though satisfied with the thoroughness of his strategy.
I study him for a long moment.
The irony of it is almost poetic.
The man has just described his own fate.
I give a slow nod.
“That’s good,” I say simply.
Sergei relaxes slightly, clearly pleased with himself. “Thank you, Boss.”
I gesture toward the door. “You can go.”
He stands, straightens his jacket, and gives a respectful nod before leaving the room.
The door closes behind him with a soft click.
I sit there for a moment longer, swirling the vodka in my glass.
Then I murmur quietly to the empty room, “Excellent plan, Sergei.” A faint smile spreads across my face. “That’s exactly how I’ll do it.”
Five minutes later, the office door opens again, softer this time. I glance up just as Ellie steps inside. She pauses near the doorway, studying me with that thoughtful look she gets when she’s trying to piece things together.
“I saw Sergei leaving,” she says slowly, closing the door behind her. “Did he…confess?”
I shake my head. “No,” I say simply.
Her brows draw together immediately. She walks closer to the desk, confusion and frustration flickering across her face.
“But we’re sure it’s him,” she says. “Everything points to Sergei. The security override. The shipment leak. The ambush. Why did you just let him walk away?”
