Page 101 of Marked By the Mob

“We’ll discuss this later,” he says finally, his tone making it clear the discussion won’t be pleasant.

Then he’s gone, leaving me alone with my racing heart and the damning email still glowing on the screen.

I close the laptop with shaking hands and press my palms against my eyes. Everything is falling apart. The investigation, the fragile trust I’ve built with the three men, and the illusion that I could somehow navigate this situation without consequences.

Krystal’s warning echoes in my mind.They’re only using you. Men like that don’t fall in love.

But they said they cared about me. They said it was real. And I believed them because I wanted to. Because the alternative was too painful to accept.

I desperately want to believe they care about me as a person and not just an asset. They act like they care. They say the right words. Surely they aren’tthatgood of actors. Grabbing my coffee cup, I take it to the kitchen then make my way to the dining room where Rurik, Eduard, and Artur are waiting.

Dinner is tense. Krystal chose to stay in her room, claiming she wasn’t feeling well, which leaves me alone with my guys in the smaller dining room. The food is excellent as always, but I can barely taste it. My stomach is in knots and every bite feels like swallowing stones.

Eduard and Artur exchange glances across the table, clearly aware that Rurik is furious about something. But neither of them asks. They just eat in silence, waiting for whatever storm is coming.

I set down my fork with more force than necessary, the clatter breaking the oppressive quiet. “I need to tell you something.”

All three sets of eyes turn to me immediately. “The mole,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “The person who sold me out. It was Langford. I’m finally convinced,” Damn, I sound defeated. Fragile even.

The admission hangs in the air between us. I watch their expressions shift as they process what I’ve said. Eduard’s jaw tightens. Artur’s crooked grin vanishes completely. Rurik just nods once, like he’s been expecting this.

They’d been telling me this for a while, but I had refused to believe it.

“You’re certain?” Eduard asks quietly.

“Yes.” I pull out my phone and show them the email from Hayes then navigate to the documents I’ve compiled over the past few days. “Langford personally signed the order declaring me ‘compromised due to rogue action.’ Only someone at his clearance level could override Cole’s login trail, suppress Hayes’s objections, and close my case that fast.”

I explain everything I’ve found. The financial connections through his brother-in-law’s security firm. The supervisory override that accessed my files. The meeting with Volkov captured in that damning photograph. The pattern of decisions that protected the auction network while destroying anyone who got too close to the truth.

By the time I finish, my throat is tight and my hands are shaking. Saying it all out loud makes it real in a way that hurts even more than I thought it would.

Rurik sets down his glass with deliberate care. He’s still tense, but his anger of before is gone and replaced by a new fury. “We can take care of him for you.”

The words are simple, direct, and absolutely terrifying. I know exactly what he means. They’ll kill Langford. Make it look like an accident or a robbery gone wrong. Eliminate the threat permanently.

Horror floods through me, cold and sharp. “No.”

Artur leans forward, his dark eyes serious. “Emma, he tried to have you killed. He sold you to a fucking auction. He doesn’t deserve to breathe.”

“I know what he did.” My voice rises despite my effort to stay calm. “I know he’s a bastard who deserves to rot in hell. But I don’t want him dead.”

Eduard’s hand finds mine across the table, his fingers warm and steady. “Then what do you want?”

I take a breath, forcing myself to think like an agent instead of a victim. “I want him punished. I want him to confess. I want everyone to know what he did and why.”

“A confession won’t bring him down,” Rurik says flatly. “Men like Langford have too many connections. Too much protection. Even if you get him to admit everything, he’ll find a way to spin it or disappear before charges stick.”

“Then we make sure he can’t spin it.” I pull my hand free from Eduard’s and stand, pacing the length of the dining room. “We set a trap. Something he can’t walk away from.”

Artur’s lips curve into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “What kind of trap?”

My mind races through possibilities and strategies I’ve used in undercover operations. “We make him think I’m still usefulto him. That I have information he needs. Something valuable enough that he’ll risk meeting with me personally.”

“He’ll suspect it’s a setup,” Eduard points out.

“Maybe.” I stop pacing and turn to face them. “But Langford is arrogant. He thinks he’s smarter than everyone else. If we dangle the right bait, he’ll convince himself he can control the situation.”

Rurik stands and moves to the window, his broad shoulders blocking the evening light. “What kind of bait?”