Page 84 of The Bratva Enforcer and His Virgin Bride

Before today, she was simply Sofia.

Now she’s potentially the only living link to one of the most valuable pieces of information circulating through our world.

And if I’ve figured that out, eventually someone else will too.

The thought immediately puts me on edge.

Because, unlike Sofia, I understand exactly what people are willing to do for information.

I’ve spent my entire life surrounded by men who would kill for less.

Kidnap.

Torture.

Disappear someone without hesitation.

The code isn’t valuable; it’s priceless.

Which means Sofia isn’t safe. Not really. Not anymore.

My jaw tightens.

She probably has no idea.

Right now, she’s likely upstairs reading one of her novels, completely unaware that her father’s secrets may have painted a target on her back. A target she didn’t ask for. A target she doesn’t even know exists.

And suddenly, the idea of anyone using her makes something ugly stir inside me. Protective. Possessive. Dangerous.

I don’t like it.

Mostly because I recognize it immediately.

I’ve felt it before. Not often. But enough to know where it leads.

The difference is that this time, it isn’t directed toward family. Or business. Or the Rusnaks.

It’s directed toward Sofia.

I exhale slowly.

This is exactly why emotions complicate things.

Logic is simple. Logic says I should recover the code as quickly as possible. Logic says Sofia is the key. Logic says the objective hasn’t changed.

But every instinct I have is pushing in another direction.

Because every path that gets me closer to the code risks hurting her. Every question I ask. Every secret I uncover. Every lie that eventually comes to light.

All of it leads back to the same person.

Sofia.

And for the first time, I find myself wondering whether finding the code is worth the cost.

A month ago, I would have laughed at that question.

Now I can’t.