Page 77 of Used Bratva Bride

I exhale sharply, gripping the edge of the counter. “I have news,” I whisper.

A brief pause. Then, “Go on.”

“I was eavesdropping on Mikhail and Ivan,” I say quickly, my voice barely above a breath. “They were talking about Valeri’s murder. The evidence against you—it was too obvious. Too easy. Even Mikhail thinks it looks like a setup.”

Silence. Then Sophia lets out a slow breath. “That means he’s going to start digging.”

“Yeah,” I confirm. “If he finds out the truth before we do—”

“He’ll use it against us.”

Exactly.

I expect relief in her tone, maybe even gratitude, but Sophia’s mind is already elsewhere. Her voice turns brisk, focused. “Okay. What about Greg Evans?”

My stomach sinks. Right. The real reason job she has for me.

I wet my lips, stalling. “I—I didn’t hear much,” I admit. “They were talking about security. Ivan said the cameras cover everything.”

“That doesn’t help us,” she says, her voice clipped. “You need to do better.”

I bristle slightly but bite my tongue.

“Julie, listen to me,” she continues, her tone more controlled now. “This deal is critical. If we sabotage it, we weaken them financially. And when they’re weak, they’re vulnerable.”

“I know.” I inhale deeply, trying to gather myself. “I’ll figure it out.”

“You don’t have to figure it out,” she says smoothly. “I already have a way.”

My fingers tighten around the phone. “What do you mean?”

“There’s a USB drive hidden in the lining of the purse I sent you.”

I blink. “What?”

“Get to Mikhail’s laptop,” she instructs. “Plug it in. The software will do the rest. You don’t need passwords or codes. It’ll extract the data we need in seconds.”

“Sophia—”

“You can do it, Julie. It’s easy.”

Easy. Breaking into Mikhail’s personal laptop. Stealing information that could make or break his entire business.

I swallow hard. My fingers tremble as I glance toward the hallway. If I get caught…. “I have to go,” I murmur.

Sophia doesn’t waste time with goodbyes. “Make sure you do this.” Then the line goes dead.

I lower the phone, my heart slamming against my ribs. Easy.

Then why does it feel like I’m about to make the biggest mistake of my life?

The moment I hear footsteps approaching, I cut the call, my breath hitching in my throat. My fingers move quickly, shutting down the phone and shoving it into the nearest drawer. My heart is hammering, the guilt already creeping up my spine like ice-cold fingers.

Mikhail steps into the kitchen, his imposing frame filling the doorway. His eyes find me instantly, sharp and assessing. “How was the clinic?”

I swallow hard, forcing my expression into something neutral. “It was fine,” I say, my voice lighter than I feel. “The vet said she’ll be okay.”

Mikhail watches me for a beat too long. His gaze doesn’t waver, and I know he sees something in my face. I feel the weight of his scrutiny pressing down on me, my stomach twisting into knots.

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