Page 86 of Marked By the Mob

It’s all designed to make Volkov think he’s getting valuable intelligence while actually feeding him useless garbage. The kind of disinformation that will keep him busy chasing ghosts while the real operations continue undisturbed. And will keep suspicion off Krystal.

“Good,” Rurik says when I finish. His gaze holds mine for a long moment. “You understand why this matters?”

“Because if Krystal passes bad information to Volkov, he’ll know she’s compromised,” I say. “It has to be convincing enough that he believes it’s real.”

“And if he believes it’s real,” Artur adds, his dark eyes serious, “he’ll trust Krystal more. Which gives us leverage.”

I hate this, hate using my best friend as a pawn in their criminal chess game, even though it was her idea in the first place. I have to trust that Krystal knows what she’s doing.

“There’s something else we need to discuss,” Rurik says, moving closer. He stops a few feet away, his broad shoulders blocking the light from the window. “Why are you still here?”

The question catches me off guard. “What?”

“You had the opportunity to escape when you met Krystal the other day,” Eduard says, his tone gentle but probing. “You could have kept walking. Gone straight to FBI headquarters and turned yourself in. But you didn’t.”

“You came back,” Artur adds. “Why?”

My pulse quickens. I know what they’re really asking. They want to know if I’m staying because I have to or because I want to. They want to know if what’s growing between us is real or just Stockholm syndrome dressed up as attraction.

I want to know the same thing.

“Right now, being with you serves my purposes,” I say, keeping my voice casual. “I need your resources to find the mole. I need your connections to help Krystal. Walking away doesn’t accomplish either of those things.”

The words sound hollow even to my own ears. A deflection wrapped in logic that doesn’t quite hold up under scrutiny.

Rurik’s jaw tightens. Eduard’s expression shifts to something that might be disappointment. Artur just watches me with those knowing dark eyes, like he can see straight through the bullshit I’m trying to sell.

“That’s what you’re going with?” Artur asks quietly.

“That’s the truth,” I lie.

Except it’s not. Not really. Yes, I need their help. Yes, staying makes strategic sense. But that’s not why I came back after meeting Krystal. That’s not why my chest tightens when I think about leaving this estate. That’s not why I wake up between them every morning and feel something dangerously close to belonging.

I’m falling for them. All three of them. And I’m terrified to admit it because once I do, there’s no taking it back. Once I acknowledge what I feel, I have to face what it means about who I’m becoming.

An FBI agent doesn’t fall for the criminals she’s supposed to bring down. A good person doesn’t find comfort in the arms of men who execute people in courtyards. A woman with any sense doesn’t look at three Bratva bosses and thinkmine.

But I do. God help me, I do.

Rurik studies my face for a long moment and I know he sees the lie. They all do. But none of them call me on it. Instead, Rurik just nods once and steps back.

“Be careful,” he says. “Volkov is dangerous and Krystal may not be as free as she appears.”

“I know,” I say quietly.

Eduard moves closer and his hand finds the small of my back, warm and steady. “We’ll have people nearby. Not close enough to spook Krystal’s guards, but close enough to intervene if something goes wrong.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” I start, but Artur cuts me off.

“You’re getting one anyway, sweetheart. Non-negotiable.”

I want to argue, but the set of their jaws tells me it would be pointless. Besides, having backup nearby isn’t the worst idea. Volkov’s visit yesterday proved he’s not going to give up on acquiring me easily.

The memory of his pale gray eyes traveling over my body makes my skin crawl. The way he looked at me like I was something to be evaluated and purchased. The casual way he suggested borrowing me for a week or two, like I’m a fucking car he wants to test drive.

I suppress a shudder and focus on the present. “Fine. But they stay out of sight.”

“Agreed,” Rurik says.