Page 125 of Filthy Lies

I slip into his study, trying not to disturb anything. But as I reach for the shelf where he left it, my elbow catches the edge of a folder balanced precariously on his desk.

It falls, spilling its contents across the polished wood.

Photographs. Dozens of them. Aerial shots of a sprawling estate, security positioning markers, guard rotations. I don’t recognize the estate, but I don’t have to, because it’s labeled in big letters across the bottom.

STRIKE TARGET: GRIGOR PETROV HOME COMPOUND.

My blood turns to ice water.

Last night, as we danced beneath the stars, Vince told me Grigor was maintaining “respectful distance” while providing intelligence about Solovyov movements. He spoke of unprecedented stability, of cooperation.

He fucking lied.

My hands shake as I thumb through the pages. It’s exactly what I knew it would be: a murder in the making. Detailed tactical plans, guard postings, entry points, extraction routes. A full-scale assault on Grigor Petrov’s compound, scheduled for execution… in three days.

My father’s death order, signed by my husband’s hand.

“This can’t be happening,” I whisper to the empty room. “Not after everything we said. Not after last night.”

But it’s all right here—undeniable proof that while Vince was promising me a future, he was planning to annihilate my past.

The sound of footsteps in the hall sends panic shooting through me. I hastily stuff everything back into the compartment and snap it shut, grabbing the coffee beans as camouflage for my presence.

The door swings open. Arkady stands there, his expression shifting from surprise to suspicion.

“Morning, Mrs. Akopov,” he says, eyes narrowing slightly. “Early riser today.”

I force my face into something resembling normalcy. “Just hunting down Vince’s fancy coffee. Thought I’d surprise him with breakfast.”

“Thoughtful,” he says, not quite buying it. “The boss is on his way in here, actually. Almost time for our morning briefing.”

“Of course. I’ll get out of your way.” I clutch the coffee to my chest and scurry past him.

But then, acting on pure instinct, I double back. I pause in a pocket of shadows a few yards down the hallway. Vince is standing in the doorway.

My heartbeat drowns out their initial exchange, but then Vince’s voice cuts through, clear and cold.

“… Phase One begins tomorrow. I want Grigor’s security detail compromised by nightfall.”

“Consider it done,” Arkady replies. “What about Rowan? She’s not going to take this well.”

A pause. “She doesn’t need to know until it’s over. Once we eliminate Grigor, Andrei will have no choice but to fall in line. It’s long past time to simplify the pecking order.”

“And Sofiya?”

“Move her to the lake house tomorrow. It’s the most secure location until this blows over.”

Their voices continue, but I can’t hear them over the roaring in my ears. The world goes haywire, reality warping until nothing makes sense anymore.

I stumble back to our bedroom, bile rising in my throat. My mind races through options, each more desperate than the last. I can’t confront Vince—not when he’s already decided to keep me in the dark. He’ll just spin more lies, seduce me with more promises while orchestrating more death.

I need to get us both somewhere neither Vince nor his enemies can find us, at least until I understand what’s really happening.

Before I realize what I’m doing, I’ve pulled a duffle bag from the closet. Into it goes everything we could need. Clothes forSofiya. Diapers. Formula. All the cash in Vince’s wallet, stolen and dumped in.

My hands move automatically, mind disconnected from body as I make the hardest choice of my life.

I’ll destroy my marriage to save my child. To save myself.

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