Page 259 of Sexting His Assistant

“Don’t say sorry,” I snap. “You walked into Luka’s office and told him you were pregnant like it was his.”

“I know.”

“So you lied.”

“Yes.”

The answer is simple, and that makes it worse.

I feel heat rush into my face.

For days, I argued with Luka. I doubted him. I doubted the evidence. I accused Pavel of handing him a neat story. I defended Misha so hard because I knew my brother, because I knew he would never betray Luka, never put me in danger, never become part of something this ugly.

Now Alina is standing in front of me, pregnant with his child.

I feel stupid. I feel betrayed.

I feel like the ground under me has changed and nobody bothered to warn me before I stepped forward.

“So Luka was right,” I say.

Alina looks confused. “About what?”

“That you were lying. That this was a setup. That you were being used and it was my brother who did it to move against Luka.”

Her face changes. “No. Not like that.”

“Then how?” I ask. “Because from where I’m standing, you lied about being pregnant with Luka’s baby, vanished from protection, and showed up on camera with my missing brother.”

Alina sits down on the edge of the couch like her legs cannot hold her anymore. “I was hired to get close to Luka.”

I stare at her. “Hired.”

“Yes.”

“To seduce him.”

“Yes.”

My stomach turns.

Alina wipes under one eye quickly. “I was supposed to get close enough to learn things. His routines. Who he met. What routes he used. Where security shifted after meetings. I was given information about his schedule, the places he preferred, the kind of women he was seen with.”

“Who hired you?”

She hesitates.

I take another step forward. “Alina.”

“Oleg Taran,” she says.

The name takes a second.

Then I remember. The gala.

Kirill Antonov, smiling at Luka near the exit, telling him they had better support now.

And beside him, the quieter man. Broad shoulders. Flat expression. Watching more than speaking.