Page 43 of Sin Wager
She's quiet for a long moment. "I think there are dangerous people at this track, and the smart thing is to stay away from them."
"Good advice."
We continue our rounds, and I note every person Sonya spoke to, every location she visited, every interaction that might reveal the scope of her operation. By noon, I have aclearer picture of how the Radich network functions—at least a dozen stable hands and grooms acting as information sources, three dead drop locations for payments and instructions, and a rotation system that makes detection difficult.
It's more sophisticated than I expected, which means the threat to the Vetrov interests is larger than Nikolai initially assessed.
"I need to make some calls," I tell Vera as we finish the morning's work. "Business matters. Can you handle lunch on your own?"
"Of course. But…" She hesitates. "You're coming back, right? For the afternoon?"
"Wouldn't miss it."
I kiss her forehead, another gesture that reads as affectionate protection but serves to mark territory. Anyone watching knows she's under my attention, which means she's under my protection. It also means any approach to her will be noticed.
I retreat to the track's administrative office, where I have access to the security system and communication equipment. The surveillance cameras cover most of the stable areas, and I spend twenty minutes reviewing this morning's footage, confirming my observations and identifying two additional Radich contacts I hadn't spotted in person.
Then I call Nikolai.
"Progress report," he grunts as soon as he answers the phone. The last conversation I had with him was tense and ended with him reminding me that if I failed, my death would be painfully slow.
"The Radich operation is larger than we thought. At least fifteen people are involved, sophisticated dead drop system, multiple revenue streams beyond simple betting manipulation." I tap my finger on the desk and stare at the computer monitor.
"And the girl?"
"She's their money mule, nothing more. They're using her desperation to fund her brother's medical care."
"Will she be useful?"
"Potentially. She has access to their handler, knows the betting patterns, could provide intelligence if handled correctly." My eyes flick over toward the window where I see Vera across the paddock working Storm's End.
"Or she could be a liability." Nikolai is making a point. In this business, liabilities are dealt with harshly.
"She's not a liability," I say firmly. "She's an asset."
"Your call. But Misha…" Nikolai's voice takes on a warning tone. "Don't let personal feelings cloud your judgment. The family's interests come first."
"Understood."
"Good. Clean this up. The longer the Radich crew operates on our territory, the weaker we look. Make an example if necessary."
The line goes dead, leaving me staring out the office window toward the paddock area. Vera has no idea that her life hangs in the balance of decisions being made in offices and back rooms, that her value as an asset is the only thing keeping her safe.
The thought makes my jaw clench with protective anger.
It's a dangerous game, protecting someone while using them. But as I watch her laugh at something one of the trainers says, as I see the way her face lights up when she spots me across the paddock, I know I'm already too deep to turn back.
The bigger play Nikolai described—tightening control, cutting access, making examples—it all runs through Vera now. She's the key to understanding their network, and she's the leverage I need to bring it down.
She's also becoming the most dangerous threat to my objectivity I've ever encountered.
But that's a problem for tomorrow. Tonight, I have work to do.
17
VERA
Iwake with my stomach churning, the taste of bile sharp in my throat. The morning light filters through our thin curtains, and I can hear Batya moving around in the kitchen, preparing for his errands. My body feels wrong—heavy and unsettled in a way I can't explain.
