Page 90 of Blood Oath Christmas
"I think I do," she says softly, and there's something in her voice that makes my chest tight. "I love you, Konstantin. All of you. Even the parts that scare me."
The sound of a throat being cleared draws my attention to Viktor. He glances at Ivy, then me.
“I have another problem to discuss with you,” he says hesitantly.
I look at Ivy and with no doubt in my heart, tell Viktor, “You can speak freely in front of my wife.”
Viktor straightens, his expression growing serious. "I've identified the FBI informant. It's Agent Cole."
The name hits me like a physical blow. She has been feeding information to the enemy for months, maybe longer. How many operations has she compromised? How many of my men have been put at risk because of her betrayal?
“She’s the last hitman we needed to identify?” I ask.
Viktor nods, shooting a wince at Ivy.
"How long?" I ask, my voice deadly quiet.
"At least six months, possibly longer. She's been careful, but not careful enough."
Ivy looks between us, confusion clear on her face. "Agent Cole? But she was one of the agents protecting me. She seemed…"
"Seemed trustworthy?" Viktor's laugh is bitter. "The best moles always do."
“She was really going to kill me?” Ivy asks, her blue eyes filled with disbelief. “But she could have done so when she snuck in my room and gave me the thumb drive. If she was really going to murder me, she had the perfect opportunity.”
I feel the familiar cold rage settling over me, the same feeling I get before I have to make the hard decisions that come with this life. But then I look at Ivy, see the concern in her eyes, and therage transforms into something else. Something protective and fierce.
"She won't be a problem much longer," I say simply.
Viktor nods, but there's a heaviness to the gesture that makes my chest tighten. "There's something else, Boss."
The way he says it makes my blood run cold. Viktor has been with me for years, has delivered bad news more times than I can count, but there's something different in his tone now. Something that speaks of betrayal so deep it cuts to the bone.
"What is it?" I keep my voice steady, but my free hand instinctively moves to rest on Ivy's thigh beneath the desk. She's wearing one of those soft sweaters that clings to her curves, and even in this moment, I'm acutely aware of the warmth of her skin through the fabric.
Viktor's jaw works for a moment, like he's chewing on words too bitter to swallow. "The family traitor. I know who it is."
The room goes completely silent except for the pounding of my heart. Ivy's hand finds mine across the desk, her fingers intertwining with mine, and I'm grateful for the anchor she provides. Her touch grounds me when everything else feels like it's spinning out of control.
"How long have you known?" I ask, though part of me doesn't want the answer.
"I've had suspicions for weeks," Viktor admits, his voice rough. "Little things that didn't add up. Information that leaked when only certain people knew it. Timing that was too convenient for our enemies."
I study his face, reading the conflict there. Viktor's loyalty has never been in question, but I can see this discovery is eating at him. "Tell me everything."
"The pattern became clear," Viktor continues. "Every single breach traced back to one person. Someone who's been with us for years. Someone I trusted." His dark eyes meet mine, and Isee something there I've never seen before. Regret. Sorrow. And underneath it all, anger that burns as hot as my own.
Ivy's thumb traces across my knuckles, and I have to resist the urge to pull her into my lap, to bury my face in her neck and forget about traitors and blood oaths and the weight of leadership that never stops crushing down on my shoulders.
"Who?" The word comes out as barely more than a growl.
Viktor's hands clench into fists on his knees. "It's Maksim."
51
IVY
The silence in Konstantin's office feels heavy, like the air before a storm. I sit in the leather chair beside his desk, my hands folded in my lap, trying to process what Viktor has just told us. The betrayal cuts deep, and I can see it in the way Konstantin's jaw tightens, the way his fingers drum once against the mahogany surface before going completely still.
