Page 53 of Plus-Size Bride Forced By the Bratva
My fingers rattled across the keyboard, my brows knitting together. “Did you find something?” I asked without raising my head to look at him.
He hesitated for a moment before replying, his voice deep and raucous. “I did. And you’re not gonna like it.”
I knew it—bad news.
I drew a deep breath, willing to let him ruin my mood; it was part of the job description anyway. “Lay it on me.”
“I don’t think you’re ready for this one, Boss,” he said, his tone laced with a hint of skepticism.
My gaze flicked toward him, eyes squinting at the flat expression on his face. Whatever this was, it was even more serious than I’d thought. He’d gain my attention now—my full attention.
“I’m listening,” I said, leaning back in my chair, eyes fixed on him.
“Ever since the recent attack on your life, I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that it was an inside job,” he began, hisgaze unwavering. “The way they moved, the timing…it all stank of something closer than a rival guessing our routes.”
My jaw tightened, but I said nothing. Like I didn’t already know this. Still, I was impressed by his observations. I let him continue.
“So, I started digging, profiling every man we’ve got—every guard, every driver, errand boy, et cetera. I tracked their calls, their messages, and their movements when they weren’t around the house.”
“And?” I asked, curiosity flickering in my tone.
“They all checked out,” he answered. “They’re clean—every last one of them.”
My head tilted subtly to the side. “I’m confused. What’s the big news?”
“I’m getting to it,” he continued. “It didn’t make sense at first because I was certain that one of us was the mole.” Yakov paused, his eyes narrowing. “But then I realized that maybe I hadn’t fished them out because I was looking in the wrong direction.”
I drummed my fingers over the table’s surface as I paid rapt attention, anticipating where he was going with this.
“I spent so much time focusing on those down the chain that I ignored those higher. Closer.” He swallowed hard, his voice lowering. “So I turned my attention to you, Boss. Or rather, to those around you. Family.”
My expression darkened, fingers curling into a fist as I shot him a stern glare. My scowl deepened, and my voice turned low and venomous. “Choose your next words carefully, Yakov,” I warned him, and he understood I wasn’t kidding.
Yakov nodded and continued, “I followed the trail as quietly as I could. Payments laundered through shell accounts, burner phones logged in places they shouldn’t have been.” Hepaused, as if letting his words sink in. “And that’s when I found this.”
My eyes dropped to the open file he set on the table, and I skimmed through the banking statements and several photographs laid out in front of me.
“On the next page, you’ll find calls traced to the night before the ambush,” he said.
I flipped to the next page, my eyes narrowing at the familiar digits that appeared throughout the entire log.
“Do you recognize that number?” Yakov asked me. “Because I do.”
I locked my jaw, my blood boiling with fury. I hoped this was all just some made-up evidence to discredit him.
“The surveillance camera in the street placed him at the scene just five minutes before the ambush.”
That was when my eyes located the grainy still from the CCTV footage.
It was him. It was Viktor.
The camera captured him speaking with the assassins exactly five minutes before the attack.
My brows drew together, fingers clenching fists. “This could’ve been doctored for all we know. The image could’ve been altered. Someone must’ve edited my brother into the scene.” I was clearly in denial.
“I thought so too, Boss,” Yakov pressed on, his voice steady but grim. “But I double-checked—triple-checked—because I had to be sure.”
I leaned into my chair, wiping a palm over my face, furious at what I’d just found out. Based on the evidence against him, Viktor had been feeding this gang intel about me for months.
