Page 42 of Married to the Bratva

I want to say something—anything—to keep him here a little longer. But before I can, he turns and walks to the door. He pauses with his hand on the frame, glancing back at me.

“Goodnight, Sophie.”

“Goodnight,” I whisper, watching as he disappears into the hallway.

31

SOPHIE

My head hurts. It’s two in the morning but I can’t stop now. My eyes dart between the rows of numbers and patterns on the screen, each one more incomprehensible than the last. The file is a labyrinth, and I’m running out of string to find my way out.

But then I see it—an inconsistency I hadn’t noticed before. It’s small but it doesn’t belong. My heart skips a beat, and I lean closer.

I pull up the logs, my fingers flying over the keyboard. The deeper I dig, the more the patterns emerge. I trace the IP addresses through VPNs, my heart pounding as I delve further.

I sit back in my chair, my stomach twisting as the pieces click into place. On the screen in front of me is the unmasked link to a bank account—a personal one.

Funds trickling in, small amounts, carefully disguised, easy to miss. Dripfeeding from the two hundred million, a couple of bucks at a time but soon adding up.

My fingers move automatically, pulling up the account’s details, tracking the trail. The name blinks back at me like a neon sign.

Dimitri.

The air shifts, suddenly heavy, the room colder than it was just moments ago. My chest tightens, a mix of disbelief and dread spreading through me.

Maxim trusted him, relied on him. And now I’m sitting here staring at proof that Dimitri is stealing from him. Not just stealing—betraying him.

He’s the mole. Dragging out the whole decryption process while he empties the money into his own account. Watching me work and throwing up obstacles, making me waste my time.

I groan out loud. I bet he’s working with Evan.

I push back from the desk, the chair creaking under the movement. My hands are trembling, and I press them flat against my thighs to stop the shake. My brain screams at me to look away, to pretend I didn’t just unravel this, but it’s too late. The knowledge is there, clawing at me.

This isn’t just Maxim’s problem now. It’s mine. In this world, knowing something like this is dangerous. But keeping it to myself? Even worse.

I glance at the door, half expecting Maxim to barrel in like he always does, all heat and control and impossible intensity.

Just imagining the fire in his eyes when I tell him this makes my stomach churn harder. Maxim doesn’t forgive, not when it comes to betrayal. And this? This isn’t small.

My notes are scattered across the desk, but I sweep them into a neat pile with shaking hands. The weight of what I’m about to do presses down on me, my legs feeling like they’re stuck in cement as I push myself to stand.

I’m not even a step away from the desk when a knock startles me, sharp and deliberate.

“Hey, it’s Dimitri,” comes the familiar voice from the other side of the door, casual but somehow too light. “Just saw you still had your light on—need anything?”

My blood runs cold. For a split second, I’m frozen. Then I lunge for the laptop, flipping it closed.

“Uh—yeah, one second!” I call, my voice pitching higher than I mean it to.

I straighten, trying to steady my breathing as I cross to the door. My hand hesitates on the handle for just a moment before I pull it open.

Dimitri stands there, the same cocky smirk on his face that’s always annoyed me. His hoodie is pulled low over his brow, and his dark eyes flick past me, scanning the room. It’s subtle, but I catch it.

“Everything okay?” he asks, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Fine,” I say quickly. “Just working on stuff.”

“Sure,” he says, drawing the word out as he straightens. “Thought I’d check on you. It’s not exactly a walk in the park decoding something that sophisticated, is it?”

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