Page 4 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

When the door opens again, I see her.

She steps inside hesitantly, her movements small and careful, as if she’s testing the air for danger. She’s young—early twenties, maybe—with auburn hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. Her clothes are plain but clean, though she’s clearly uncomfortable under my gaze.

I let the silence stretch as she stands there, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“Sit,” I say finally, gesturing to the chair across from me.

She hesitates before perching on the edge of the seat, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her eyes flit around the room, taking in the dark wood paneling, the expensive artwork on the walls, the faint smell of cigar smoke that lingers in the air.

“Who are you?” I ask, leaning back in my chair.

“My name is Lily,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. “Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Sharov.”

I raise an eyebrow. It’s rare to hear my name spoken with such… trepidation. Most people fear me, yes, but they also respect me enough to keep their voices steady. This one is nervous, which makes me wonder why she came here at all.

“What is it you want, Lily?” I ask, keeping my tone measured.

She swallows, her fingers twisting in her lap. “It’s about the Ember House.”

That gets my attention. I own several establishments in the city, but the Ember House is one of my prized possessions—a high-end nightclub that doubles as a hub for more… discreet dealings.

“What about it?” I ask, my voice sharp enough to make her flinch.

“It’s the manager,” she says quickly, as if afraid I’ll cut her off. “His name is Kris. He’s been working there for about a year now.”

I nod, recalling the name. Kris was a recommendation from one of my associates, and he’s done a decent job keeping the club profitable. At least, as far as I’ve been told.

“What about him?” I ask, my patience thinning.

Lily hesitates, her gaze dropping to her lap. She’s clearly weighing her words, trying to decide how much to say—or how to say it without pissing me off.

“He’s… not who you think he is,” she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

My eyes narrow, and I lean forward, resting my elbows on the desk. “Explain.”

She looks up at me, and for the first time, I see the resolve beneath her nervous exterior. “He’s stealing from you,” she says, her words more confident now. “He’s using the club for things I don’t think you’d approve of.”

A dangerous silence falls over the room. My mind races, but outwardly, I remain calm.

“You’re making a serious accusation,” I say, my voice dangerously low. “Do you have proof?”

Lily nods, pulling a small flash drive from her pocket. “I started working at the Ember House six months ago,” she says. “I saw things—transactions that didn’t add up, people coming in and out who weren’t on any official lists. I started keeping track, taking notes, recording things when I could.”

She places the flash drive on the desk, her hand trembling as she slides it toward me.

I pick it up, turning it over in my fingers. “Why come to me?” I ask. “Why not go to the police?”

Lily’s lips press into a thin line. “Because the police don’t scare people like Kris,” she says. “You do.”

Her words hang echo in my mind, and for a moment, I say nothing. She’s not wrong. The police might make an arrest, but I’d make sure Kris disappeared. Permanently.

I lean back in my chair, studying her. She’s brave, I’ll give her that. Stupid, maybe, but brave.

Relief flashes across her face, but I don’t let her relax too much.

“Lily,” I add, my voice turning cold, “if you’re lying, or if this is some kind of game….”

She shakes her head quickly. “I’m not lying. I swear.”

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