Page 40 of Married to the Bratva

Curiosity gets the better of me. I stand, pulling the bag closer and unzipping it. Inside, there’s a sleek new laptop, still in its packaging, and several high-end gadgets—tablets, external drives, even a smartwatch.

Beneath them are neatly folded designer clothes, tags still attached.

“What is this?” I ask, holding up one of the devices. “Are we raiding stores now?”

“They’re tools,” Maxim says simply. “The laptop is faster than the antique you’re using, and the clothes are more appropriate for your new role.”

“My role?” I ask, setting the tablet down with a little more force than necessary. “You mean acting as your loving wife?”

“That was no act last night.” He fixes his gaze on me, cool and assessing. “Your current wardrobe doesn’t exactly scream my wife credibility, Sophie. And your laptop isn’t equipped to handle the encryption layers you’re working on.”

I cross my arms, staring him down. “First of all, my laptop works just fine. I’ve boosted it more than you might think. Second, I don’t need your charity.”

“It’s not charity,” he replies, his tone calm but firm. “It’s practicality.”

“And yet, here I am, managing just fine without your ‘practicality.’”

“You’re making this more difficult than it needs to be. Accept the gift.”

“No,” I say, pushing the bag aside. “You’re making this more complicated by assuming I’ll fall in line because you throw money at a problem.”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think I’ve pushed too far. But then his lips curve into a faint, infuriating smirk. “You really don’t care, do you?”

“About what?” I ask, genuinely confused.

“The money. The things,” he says, gesturing toward the bag. “Most people would jump at the chance to have all this. You act like it’s an inconvenience.”

“Maybe because it is,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “I don’t need shiny toys to do my job, Maxim. What I need is space and time. Now the clock’s ticking so please let me work.”

He glances at his watch. “Until five, then you stop and eat. That’s an order.”

29

MAXIM

Isit at the head of the massive oak table, my lieutenants gathered around me, all of us listening to Nikolai report. He stands near the window, his silhouette sharp against the fading light outside.

“The stash on 49th is secure for now,” he says, his voice even. “But Federico’s men are getting bolder. They’ve been seen circling the area twice in the past twenty-four hours.”

“I don’t care about forays,” I reply. “I care about my money. What progress has Dimitri made?”

Nikolai hesitates, and I don’t miss the flicker of unease that crosses his face. “He’s flagged something,” he admits, carefully choosing his words. “Anomalies in the encryption patterns. He thinks perhaps Sophie is tampering with it as she works.”

I glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “Sophie? A mole?”

He shrugs, leaning against the windowsill. “Could be.”

I ignore the comment, focusing instead on the larger problem at hand. “Have Dimitri trace the anomalies. Quietly. He reports directly to me from now on.”

“And Sophie?” Nikolai asks.

“I watch her. Closely.”

30

SOPHIE

Ipush my chair back with a sigh, my fingers rubbing at my temples. I’ve been working all day but I’m still getting nowhere. It’s long past midnight but I can’t stop. Not yet.

---