Page 71 of The Bratva Stalker's Ruthless Claim
I lean back in my chair, watching her for a moment before answering.
“Because catching him red-handed matters,” I say calmly. “If I move now, some people in the organization will still doubt it. Sergei has built a reputation here. Years of loyalty. If I kill him without undeniable proof, it creates fractures.”
She crosses her arms, still thinking it through.
“So you’re waiting,” she says slowly.
I nod. “Yes. His extermination needs to be complete. Absolute. No questions. No whispers. When it happens, everyone must know exactly why.”
Ellie studies me carefully, then asks, “So…what’s the plan?”
A small smile touches my mouth. “I’m going to borrow another page from your playbook.”
Her eyes narrow with curiosity. “Which one?”
I lean forward slightly, resting my elbows on the desk.
“Tomorrow morning, I’ll announce that I’m leaving the estate for a short trip. Something routine. I’ll make it look casual, poorly guarded. The kind of opportunity a desperate traitor might try to exploit.”
She tilts her head, listening closely.
“I’ll let the guards know exactly where I’m headed,” I continue. “Very openly. Very loudly. Sergei will hear it too. Timofey will stay behind in the security room, monitoring everything in real time. Every camera. Every communication line.”
I pause, letting the logic settle.
“Anyone outside the inner circle wouldn’t dare make a move. But someone who’s deeply involved…someone who believes he’s already halfway to destroying me…he might try.”
Ellie’s eyes sharpen. “And you think Sergei is getting nervous,” she says.
“I know he is,” I reply. “The pressure is building. The bait operation exposed him once already. He may not realize howmuch we know, but he’ll feel the net tightening. If he believes I’m leaving the estate vulnerable….” I shrug slightly. “He might try to finish the job.”
Ellie exhales slowly, processing the risk. “That’s dangerous,” she says quietly.
“It is,” I agree.
Her gaze softens, concern flickering through it. “You’re basically offering yourself as bait.”
I reach across the desk and take her hand, squeezing it lightly. “Not bait,” I say. “A trap.”
She studies my face for a long moment, then finally nods. “It’s a good plan,” she says. Then she adds softly, “But promise me something.”
I raise a brow.
“If anything feels wrong,” she continues, “you stop the operation immediately. I don’t care about Sergei or proof if it means putting yourself in real danger.”
I pull her closer, sliding an arm around her waist until she’s standing beside my chair.
“Ellie,” I murmur, brushing my thumb along her wrist, “the moment Sergei decided to come after you…this stopped being a question of danger.”
My voice lowers.
“Now it’s a matter of justice.”
She doesn’t argue with that.
For a moment, the room is quiet again, the weight of tomorrow settling between us. I study her face, the small crease between her brows, the way her fingers curl slightly against the desk.
“Are you worried for me?” I ask.
