Page 26 of The Russian's Forced Bride
Cassandra had been shocked to find that I was getting married out of the blue, but she quickly understood why and didn’t bother asking me any questions.
I scoffed at her words. “You and I both know I can’t spend a week doing nothing. The bastard who killed Jaxon Whitmore is still running the streets. The sooner we force his hand out of hiding, the better….”
Cassandra nodded in agreement, pulling out her iPad from her shoulder bag.
“Well, I’m glad you’re in the mood to work because Maxim has some intel, and it might just be useful.”
And just as she spoke, another gentle knock sounded on the door to my office before it swung open, revealing Maxim.
“Sorry to barge in, Boss, but I’ve got some news,” he stated, shutting the door behind him.
Cassandra gave me a look that indicated whatever Maxim was about to say was important, and it made me sit up straight, alert for any information—anything I could find about Joaquin.
“I was at the Kamarov mansion just a day after your wedding,” Maxim said, running a hand through his dark hair.
He seemed exhausted as he nodded a greeting to Cassandra before taking a seat across from me.
“Apparently, Matvey was able to track down one of Joaquin’s goons. He’s not so important, and he refused to talk until Matvey ordered for his fingers to be cut off.”
I nodded, unbothered by the imagery. I had done worse to get people to talk.
“Get straight to the point, Maxim.”
“Right! So while half-dead, Joaquin’s underling confessed that Joaquin’s strategy was to weaken the flow of Bratva’s income using his connections.”
I raised a brow. How?
Maxim then began using his hands to explain. “Joaquin isn’t invincible because he has muscle. He’s invincible because he has intel. He has people everywhere, Rafael, and that’s what makes it look like he’s always one step ahead. He even knows that we know he was behind Jaxon Whitmore’s death.”
My brows furrowed.
How was Joaquin getting his information?
It had to be an insider. But who?
I shook my head. Before discovering who the rat was, I had to set up systems to protect the Bratva’s endless income. I couldn’t let Joaquin find even a crack to use as leverage against us.
“Check all laundromats and cash flow pipelines. If there are any leaks at all, I want them sealed and protected.”
I ran a hand through my hair as I gave the orders to both Maxim and Cassandra.
Fuck.
Looking at them, I couldn’t tell if they were completely on my side. Knowing that Joaquin had an insider within the Bratva and around me made my skin crawl.
This war isn’t over yet.
It was only just starting, and I was going to fight it to the bitter end—and until Joaquin was dead.
Chapter 8 – Arlette
Ever since my mother’s death, I’ve been constantly plagued by nightmares—the type that stripped me clean of all my emotional defenses, reducing me to nothing more than a crybaby.
Dad had always claimed I wasn’t there when she died, but then how could he explain the shrilling screams that filled my dreams on some nights, or the sight of my mother’s neck being sliced open with blood gurgling out while she reached out for help from a wrecked car?
I could also always see men with blurred faces looming over her, their laughter echoing into the air.
It didn’t make sense to me that I would dream of something I wasn’t there to witness, and part of me knew Dad lied about Mom’s death. It wasn’t just an accident—it was an orchestrated one. One where she was killed right in front of me.
