Page 24 of The Bratva Enforcer and His Virgin Bride

“A clue,” I continue. “Something that proves you actually know anything about the code.”

Silence stretches briefly between us.

Then Karl nods once. “Fair enough.”

He leans back slightly in his chair, thoughtful for a moment.

When he finally speaks again, his voice lowers.

“Creed never trusted digital storage,” he says. “He believed computers could always be breached eventually.”

My attention sharpens.

Karl continues, “He built the final layer using repetition theory and literary sequencing.” A pause. “Not numbers alone. Patterns. He hid them in books.”

Ben goes still. So do I. Because that aligns perfectly with everything we know about Creed. And that’s information no one else knows. Or no one else should know—except Karl, apparently.

I was right. He knows something.

This fucker!

Karl studies my face carefully as the realization clicks into place. He sees the exact moment I understand enough to believe him.

And that bastard smiles.

“I agree,” I say.

Behind me, Ben exhales sharply. Disapproval. He hates this arrangement. Truthfully, so do I. I came here expecting information. A lead. Possibly leverage. Not a prospective wife.

Yet none of that changes the calculation.

My responsibility is not to comfort.

Not to preference.

Not to morality.

It’s to the Bratva.

To the Rusnaks.

To ensuring my family never stands vulnerable before men hunting weakness.

If marriage secures the network, then marriage becomes necessary.

I rise slowly to my feet. The meeting is over as far as I am concerned.

“I want information on the code immediately,” I say.

Karl remains seated, calm as ever. “You’ll have it.”

I wait.

His gaze locks onto mine. “After the wedding.”

My expression hardens. “You’re testing my patience.”

“No,” Karl replies smoothly. “I’m protecting Sofia.”