Page 92 of Obsessive Vows

"The announcement is in twenty minutes," my father notes, checking his watch – just like Nikolai had earlier. Not a coincidence. "Mingle with the Romanians until then. Their support for our Odessa expansion is still wavering."

As he moves away, Viktor's hand settles at the small of my back, guiding me through the crowd. To watching eyes, the perfect couple navigating social obligations. To us, it’s movement toward the positions we need for tonight's operation.

"Nikolai's watching the security rotations," I murmur, my smile never faltering. "Third time check in fifteen minutes."

Viktor's expression reveals nothing, though his fingers press slightly firmer against my back. "Anton confirmed interference in the east wing surveillance. Two-minute cycles, pattern suggesting coordinated approach."

"Someone's moving pieces we didn't anticipate." Fear flickers in my chest, but I push it down, calculating risks against our plans.

"Or exactly as we anticipated." Viktor's eyes track Nikolai across the room. "Remember, your father's study is priority one. Everything else is secondary."

The reminder refocuses me on my primary objective – accessing my father's private files during the celebration. The evidence Viktor needs to complete his case against the Markov empire, to bring justice without destruction, to secure our future with Sofia.

"Thirty-second window during the champagne toast," I confirm, maintaining my perfect social smile. "Security cameras loop for exactly ninety seconds after verification."

"I'll create the necessary distraction." His hand slides discreetly lower, heat burning through silk to brand my skin. "The Romanian ambassador's interest in Finnish shipping routes should be sufficient cover."

Our planning continues amid champagne and caviar, movements disguised as social niceties. A stolen kiss behind a marble column – real passion hiding whispered confirmation of security positions. His hand lingering at my waist during introductions – tactical updates shared through coded phrases about wedding preparations.

The dance continues as servers circulate with champagne flutes, the formal announcement approaching. Across the room, my father speaks with government ministers, his security chief Yuri leaning close to murmur something that causes a slight tension in his posture.

"Something's off." Viktor voices my own concern, his body subtly shifting to a defensive stance. "Yuri shouldn't be back from perimeter check for another twelve minutes."

Before I can respond, Nikolai Sokolov materializes beside us, his smile pleasant but his eyes cold as winter. "The happy couple," he says, raising his champagne in mock toast. "Moscow's most powerful alliance since the Petrov-Kuznetsov merger."

"Nikolai." Viktor's greeting contains the perfect balance of deference and authority. "Your support means a great deal to our families."

"Family connections matter deeply," Nikolai agrees, something dangerous flickering in his eyes. "Blood ties especially. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Of course. Family is important," Viktor responds smoothly.

Nikolai's smile never reaches his eyes. "Family resemblance can be quite striking. Silver eyes, for instance. Rather a rare and distinctive trait, wouldn't you say?"

Before Viktor can respond, the crystal chime of silver against glass cuts through the conversations. My father commands attention from the center of the grand reception hall, champagne flute raised.

"Distinguished guests," he begins, voice carrying with practiced authority. "Tonight we celebrate not merely an engagement, but a historic alliance between two great families."

As planned, Viktor squeezes my hand once – our signal to initiate our operation while attention focuses on my father. I slip away, using the service corridor I've known since childhood, my movements timed precisely with security rotations I've memorized over years.

The private study door yields to the authentication sequence I've known since I was thirteen – my father's protection measures no match for a daughter raised in his shadow. Inside, darkness broken only by the glow of computer monitors still running secure protocols. Just as anticipated.

I move fast, accessing the primary system with codes memorized from countless observations. Security firewalls fall to the specialized program on my innocuous-looking compact, evidence transferring to a secure drive that leaves no electronic footprint.

Financial records. Execution orders. Money laundering operations. Human trafficking networks. Arms dealing connections. The comprehensive criminal empire built through decades of violence and manipulation. Evidence Viktor needs for targeted dismantling rather than wholesale destruction.

The download completes with a soft chime, drive secured in the hidden compartment of my formal clutch. I exit the system carefully, leaving no digital trace, and prepare to extract through the servant's passage that bypasses main security checkpoints.

The door opens before I reach it.

My father stands silhouetted against the hallway light, his expression unreadable despite the cold fury radiating from him. Behind him, Yuri and two security men I don't recognize – not regular Markov men, suggesting special assignment.

"Anastasia." My name emerges with dangerous softness. "Looking for something in the dark?"

My mind races through response options, calculating plausible deniability. "I needed a moment alone before the announcement, Father. The crowd, the expectations?—"

"Enough." His hand slices through the air. "Do you think I'm fool enough to miss betrayal beneath my own roof? By my own daughter?"

Ice spreads through my veins, though I keep my face neutral. "I don't understand what you mean."

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