Page 27 of Royal Deception
“Didn’t you?” I counter, my voice even. “You hired us for protection, knowing damn well who you were running from.”
Mark flinches but doesn’t respond.
“Start talking, Veridan. No more half-truths, no more vague bullshit. Why are the Russians so eager to put a bullet in you?”
He hesitates, his gaze flickering toward the door like he’s weighing his options.
I let the silence stretch, let him stew in it. Then I sit back, exhaling sharply. “You keep wasting my time, and I’ll walk you out of here myself. Straight to Anatoly Volkov.”
That gets him. He snaps his head up, eyes wide with panic.
“You don’t understand,” he says, voice low. “I didn’t have a choice. When Veridex was still small, we needed funding. The banks wouldn’t touch us and investors weren’t biting. Then the Russians came along.”
My brows lift slightly. “You got in bed with Volkov?”
Mark shakes his head quickly. “Not him directly. At least, not at first. We thought we were dealing with some mid-tier backers, people who wanted a cut but would stay out of our business. Butonce we started turning a profit, the demands got bigger. More money, more favors. When I tried to cut ties…” He swallows hard. “They didn’t take it well.”
No surprise there. The Russians aren’t the type to take a loss gracefully.
“And you didn’t think this was something I should have known?” My voice is sharp now, cutting through whatever pitiful excuse he might offer.
Mark shakes his head, looking paler by the second. “I didn’t… I swear, I thought it was over. They went quiet for a while, and I thought they’d moved on.”
“The Russians never move on,” I say, getting into his face. “Listen to me carefully. I don’t work with liars. If you ever keep anything else from me from now on, if I find out you’re still hiding information that could get more of my men killed, let’s just say I’ll have no qualms about personally delivering you to Volkov myself.”
Mark’s throat bobs as he swallows, his face as pale as a sheet. “Understood.”
I hold his gaze for a long moment, making sure he knows I’m not bluffing. Then I straighten.
“Good. I’m glad we can come to an understanding,” I say, giving him a jerking nod.
As I leave the secure safehouse, the night air feels thick and heavy, a reflection of all the shit we’ve been caught in lately.
Mark was a target. Our whole operation is a target now.
Danny is gone.
Dead because of me.
I should have handled this differently. I knew the whispers about Veridex, knew Mark had shady allies. I should have dug deeper before getting into bed with him, but I let the promise of control cloud my judgment. And now Danny’s dead becauseI didn’t ask the right questions. Because I didn’t see the fucking noose tightening around us.
I slam the car door shut harder than necessary, gripping the wheel as I pull onto the road. My mind churns, dissecting every choice, every misstep. I wanted to blame Clary for not doing her job, but the truth is, I’ve stifled her at every turn, pushed her into a neat little box of what I deemed acceptable. And when she didn’t step outside it, I lost my shit at her.
But she offered me control. That’s what she wanted—clear lines, clear rules. No emotions. No mess. Maybe that’s exactly what I need right now.
The thought settles, sinking deep into my bones. She could be an outlet, a way to siphon off some of the tension coiling tight in my chest. I exhale slowly, flexing my grip on the wheel. Maybe I’ve been looking at this all wrong.
This could work.
Having Clary as a tool at my disposal—one that benefits both of us—looks damn tempting from where I’m standing. And maybe it’s what she needs too. She’s got potential, but I’ve kept her under my thumb. Maybe this will push her, force her to grow in a way she wouldn’t otherwise.
By the time I get home, the decision is made. I bypass the kitchen, ignoring the urge to pour myself a drink, and head straight for my office.
I sit down, fingers hovering over the keyboard, letting the weight of it all sink in.
Then I start typing.
12
