Page 67 of The Russian's Revenge Bride
I stared at him, waiting for the punchline, waiting for the real information I knew he had to have uncovered. When he started to stand up, indicating the meeting was over, something inside me snapped.
“?????!”Fuck!I slammed my hand down on the desk hard enough to make the whiskey glass jump. The sound echoed through the office like a gunshot, and Lev froze halfway out of his chair. “?? ???????, ? ?????? ??????”Do you think I’m a fucking idiot?
“Maxim….”
“Don’t fucking ‘Maxim’ me.” I switched back to English, my voice dropping to the dangerous register that made grown men reconsider their life choices. “I’ve known you since we were five years old, you piece of shit. You think I don’t know when you’re holding back on me?”
Lev’s expression shifted, the careful neutrality replaced by something that looked almost like relief. He settled back into his chair, a familiar smirk spreading across his face.
“I was wondering when you’d call me on that.”
“Stop fucking with me and tell me what you found.”
“I didn’t want to say anything until I was absolutely sure. Because if I’m right about this, if what I think is happening is actually happening, then we’re not just dealing with a traitor. We’re dealing with someone who’s been playing a long game that makes the rest of us look like fucking amateurs.”
He pulled another folder from his jacket, this one thicker and held together with a rubber band that suggested sensitive material.
“Dmitry Chertov has a very interesting relationship with William Beaumont.”
The name hit me like ice water in my veins. “What kind of relationship?”
“The kind that involves regular communication over the past few months. Phone calls, encrypted messages, even a few in-person meetings.” He spread new documents across the desk, communication logs and surveillance photos. “I’ve been monitoring their conversations, trying to decrypt the messages, piece together what they’re discussing.”
I studied the photos. Dmitry and Beaumont in what looked like a restaurant, their body language suggesting familiarity rather than business formality. Another photo showing them shaking hands outside a government building. A third showing them getting into the same car.
“How long has this been going on?”
“Started about two months ago, right around the time you married Eleanor. Initially, I thought maybe it was just business. Beaumont’s construction company has contracts with the city, and Dmitry has connections in municipal government. Could have been legitimate.”
“But?”
“But the frequency and secrecy suggest something more personal. They’re not meeting in offices or conference rooms. They’re meeting in parking garages, abandoned warehouses, places where surveillance is difficult and conversations can’t be overheard.”
“What are they talking about?”
“That’s where it gets interesting.” Lev pulled out a transcript, pages of text that looked like they’d been assembledfrom multiple sources. “I managed to get audio on a few conversations. Most of it’s coded, careful language that could mean anything if you didn’t know the context.”
“What’s the context?”
“Your wife.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. I felt my jaw clench, my hands automatically forming fists as implications I didn’t want to consider started arranging themselves in my mind.
“Show me.”
Lev pointed to a section of the transcript highlighted in yellow. “This is from three weeks ago. Beaumont is talking about ‘the asset’ and ‘retrieval scenarios.’ Dmitry is discussing ‘access points’ and ‘security vulnerabilities.’”
“They were planning to take her.”
“That’s what it sounds like. But here’s the thing that really fucked with me.” He pointed to another section. “Dmitry isn’t just providing information. He’s actively discouraging certain approaches, steering Beaumont away from direct confrontation.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he had a better plan. Something that would give him what he wanted without the risk of a full-scale war with our organization.”
I felt pieces clicking together in my mind, forming a picture I really didn’t want to see. “He was playing both sides. Helping Beaumont plan the extraction while making sure it would fail in a way that served his own purposes.”
“Exactly. Think about it. If the attack had succeeded, if Eleanor had been killed or seriously injured, you would have gone after Beaumont with everything you had. Full-scale war, massive casualties, attention from law enforcement and government officials.”
