Page 27 of Ruin
He doesn't say her name. He doesn't need to.
"She's not a vulnerability."
"She's a woman you sent to Harvard on your dime, waited a year for, and integrated into your organization within a few days, Cassius. If Zhukov doesn't already know about her, he will within the week. And when he does, he'll see exactly what your enemies have always wanted— something you care about more than the empire."
The silence between us is heavy.
It’s the kind that comes from years of honesty, even when it's unwelcome.
"She's also the reason we have Rivera in our pocket without spending a dime," I say. "She solved the gallery vulnerability in thirty seconds. She restructured Fink's debt into a permanent leash. In days she's done more for the legal infrastructure of this organization than attorneys who have been on our payroll for years have done."
"I know. I was there." Vincent leans against the table. "I'm not saying she's not an asset. I'm saying she makes you predictable. And predictable men in our business end up dead."
I look at the map. At the holes. At the Cyrillic scratched into the crate.
"Set up a meeting with our dock captains. I want every worker vetted again. Anyone who's had contact with Russian operatives gets removed. Quietly. No bodies. I don't want Zhukov to know we're responding."
"And the restaurant on Ninth?"
"Send The Butcher. Not to the restaurant—to whoever Zhukov sent to make the offer. I want to know where they're operating from, where they sleep, who they talk to. Surveillance only, for now."
Vincent nods, starts gathering the files, and then stops.
"There's something else. Zhukov's people have been asking about judges. Specifically, judges who've had connections to organized crime cases in the last two decades."
My blood goes cold. Just for a second. A micro-freeze that I lock down before it reaches my face.
"Which judges?"
"He hasn’t said any names yet. General inquiries, but if they dig deep enough..." He lets the sentence hang.
Judge Deveraux.
The case that started everything.
The hit that built my reputation and launched my career.
The girl sleeping in my bed whose parents I put in the ground.
If the Russians find that thread and pull it, they won't just have leverage against me.
They'll have a weapon pointed at the one person who could dismantle everything I've built—not through force, but through the simple, devastating act of telling Selene the truth.
"Monitor it," I say. My voice is steady. "Everything they ask about, everyone they talk to. I want to know before they know."
"Done." Vincent picks up his briefcase and pauses at the door. "She's impressive, Cassius. I'll give you that, but impressive women with secrets hovering over them are the most dangerous kind."
He leaves.
I stand at the map and stare at the holes in my territory and think about the hole in my story that could swallow everything.
She'sin her new office when I find her.
The room adjacent to mine. Vincent had it set up overnight.
Desk, computer, secure line, filing cabinets. She's already made it hers.
Legal texts stacked in neat piles. A yellow legal pad covered in her handwriting. She's cross-referencing something on the computer, frowning at the screen with the kind of focus that blocks out everything else.
