Page 57 of The Bratva Enforcer and His Virgin Bride

For the first time since our arrangement began, Karl is offering something concrete.

I hand the phone back. “Gather the men.”

Ben doesn’t move.

I already know why.

“What?”

His jaw tightens. “What if it’s a trap?”

A fair question. One I’ve already considered. I’m not stupid. If he’s inviting me somewhere, there’s almost certainly another motive. But that changes nothing.

I move around the desk and grab my jacket from the back of the chair. “Inform the men that we’re potentially walking into a trap.”

Ben watches me.

“We go in assuming every exit is compromised. Every angle is covered. Every vehicle is being watched.”

His expression remains grim. “And if it is a trap?”

“Then we deal with it.”

The answer sounds simple because it is.

I don’t have the luxury of avoiding risks.

Not anymore.

The dormant accounts have remained inaccessible for over a decade. Every lead we’ve uncovered points back to Karl.Every answer sits behind him. If I let this opportunity pass, I may never get another one.

“I need whatever information he’s hiding,” I continue. “This is the first real lead we’ve had.”

He gives a short nod. “I’ll get the men.”

Without another word, he turns and leaves.

The door closes behind him. I rush to my feet and grab my jacket. My reflection catches briefly in the dark glass of the window. Cold eyes. Controlled expression. No hesitation.

Exactly as it should be.

I walk toward the bar in the corner of the room.

The crystal decanter catches the light as I pour a glass of vodka. The liquid burns down my throat. I welcome it. Because something tells me tonight is about to get complicated.

I set the empty glass down.

Then I head for the door.

Whatever Karl Jonathan has been hiding for sixteen years, I’m finally going to hear it.

Or maybe die trying.

***

The warehouse sits at the edge of the city like something already abandoned by time.

Even before I step inside, I know something is wrong.