Page 156 of Vendetta Vows

Ruslan's eyes immediately seek me out, concern darkening his expression as he approaches. He's beside me in seconds, all traces of playfulness gone, replaced by the alert vigilance of the pakhan.

"What's wrong?" His voice is low, steady.

I wordlessly hand him the box, watching as he examines each item: the music box identical to my mother's, the handcuffs with his name, and finally, the photos of his nieces.

"He's inside our system," I whisper, my voice cracking. "Kristofer is watching us through our own cameras."

Ruslan's face hardens into something terrifying, but his touch remains gentle as he takes my trembling hands.

"Is he—" I can't finish the question, but Ruslan understands.

"I'll call Artyom," he promises, his thumb stroking my wrist. "Do a full security sweep."

I glance at Stella and Sofia still playing with their tea set, their faces bright with innocent joy, unaware of the darkness creeping around us.

"Not here," I whisper to Ruslan, clutching the box to my chest. "Not in front of them."

Ruslan nods, his jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscle pulsing beneath his skin. "Okay."

We walk toward the mansion, and I can't stop myself from looking up at the security camera mounted near the doorway. That small black lens that once represented safety now feels like Kristofer's eye watching my every move. I shudder, wrapping my arms around myself.

Once the heavy wooden door closes behind us, Ruslan pulls out his phone.

"How could this happen?" My voice trembles. "You said this place was secure."

"It was." Ruslan rakes a hand through his hair. "But I don't know how the full security software works."

"Or they hacked in remotely," I suggest, placing the box on the side table as Ruslan starts talking to Artyom in Russian.

A few seconds later, Ruslan pockets his phone and turns to me. "Artyom's on his way. Five minutes."

I take out the music box again, running my fingers over the polished surface.

"It has to be Kristofer. This looks exactly like my mother's. Down to the chip in the corner." I turn it over, showing him. "See?"

"Or it's someone who wants us to think it's Kristofer," Ruslan counters, his voice measured. "Someone trying to get you to panic. Someone who has something to gain by you panicking."

"You think Tamara is behind this?"

"I think it's possible she had someone interfere with the security software when she interrupted the wedding. We were distracted that night."

Heat rushes to my face remembering how I ran and hid, how he came to find me, and how his hands calmed me as we made love on the floor of that room atop my wedding dress.

"But the music box," I interrupt my own thoughts. "How could Tamara know about that? No one knows about my mother's music box except Kristofer."

Ruslan's expression darkens. "If Tamara learned your real name, she could have hired someone to dig into your past."

I shake my head. "No. This feels like him. The handwriting on the box. The handcuffs with your name..." I shudder. "I know it's him. I can feel it in my bones."

The front door opens, and Artyom strides in, laptop case in hand. His eyes dart between us.

"What's happened?"

Ruslan gestures to the box. "Someone's compromised our security cameras. I need you to find out how, and when."

Artyom's expression hardens as he examines the photos. "I'll check for any unauthorized access to our system. Backdoors, remote login attempts."

"Check on the day of the wedding," Ruslan adds. "It's the most likely time they could've done this."

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