Page 10 of The Russian's Bought Bride

I step closer again, closing the last of the distance between us, and my voice drops, losing any pretense of politeness. “You have two choices, doctor. Either you proceed as planned, and I walk away, taking my money with me. Or you adjust, and you walk out of this with more than you expected.”

Volodin stares at the card a moment longer before glancing over his shoulder at the operating room and everything happening inside, then at the nurse waiting expectantly. Given how she has barely flinched through all of this, she’s just as rotten as he is.

Finally, he takes a breath, then looks at me with acceptance.

“After she’s put under, she will need to be moved discreetly. There are protocols…she’ll need to be monitored throughout before she regains consciousness.”

“It will be handled,” I tell him, already doing the mental gymnastics to make this work.

“Why?” he asks suddenly, studying me closely now, as if he wants to find my angle, given how greatly I’m diverting from the usual script. “Why her?”

It’s both a fair question and a dangerous one, and one I refuse to answer honestly.

Not wanting to tarnish the image he currently has of me, I hold his gaze and let a faint smirk touch my mouth. “Because I can, doctor.”

It’s the only answer he needs, and understanding clicks into place.

Rather than morality or conscience, I let him see this as power, ownership, and the kind of reasoning he recognizes.

His shoulders ease slightly, like a visible sign of a decision made.

“Very well,” he says with a note of finality and a sigh.

Just like that, a life has been reduced to a transaction, but it’s no different from their usual business.

“Adjust the dosage,” he murmurs to the nurse without looking away from me. “We’ll be modifying the procedure.”

The nurse hesitates only long enough for me to catch it, then she nods and makes her way into the operating room.

Orders are orders to them, even when they shouldn’t be.

Stepping back, I give them space as the two of them shift into gear, preparing to pivot at my whim.

Regardless of how they’ve caved, something twists in my chest, well aware of what this means.

In a way, I’ve just compromised my position enough that I’ll have to move faster now. This will require me to push harder and to take risks I wasn’t planning to take.

All because of one woman I don’t know, yet managed to creep her way into my head.

Strategically, this is a mistake, but as I turn and walk down the corridor, already pulling out my phone to set things in motion, I don’t feel regret.

Instead, certainty stitches itself into my ribs, and I let it propel me forward.

“Get a vehicle ready, and make sure there’s room,” I say the second the line connects with Ruslan, one of my closer associates. “I’ll forward you the address.”

He pauses on the other end, then his gruff voice comes through, “For what?”

“Pickup within the hour. We’re transporting someone.”

I hang up before he can ask more questions, then I forward the building’s address before organizing everything else.

As the minutes pass, I feel as if everything changes immediately, but it can’t be helped.

I’ll still burn this place to the ground and dismantle every piece of this operation, but for now, I have something else to manage. Someone else.

As I step out into the night air, the dry heat hits my face, and I exhale slowly, dragging a hand down my jaw.

This isn’t clean or as controlled, and it sure as hell isn’t how I planned it.