Page 77 of The Bratva Stalker's Ruthless Claim
I say nothing.
“Listen to me,” he continues quickly. “I made a mistake. A stupid one. I thought I could control the situation. I thought I could use them, take their money, feed them small pieces of information—nothing that would hurt you.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“The sniper attack?” I ask.
He swallows. “That…got out of hand.”
Out of hand.
The words echo in the room like a joke.
Sergei leans forward as far as the restraints allow.
“Mike, I’ve been with you for years,” he says urgently. “I built half this organization beside you. I fought for you. Bled for you. You know that.”
I watch him calmly.
“You can’t throw that away over one mistake.”
“One mistake,” I repeat.
“Yes,” he insists quickly. “Give me a chance to fix it. I’ll hunt down every man I worked with. I’ll dismantle their network myself. I swear it. Just—” His voice cracks slightly. “Just give me a second chance.”
Silence fills the basement.
I lean forward slowly, resting my elbows on the metal table.
For a moment, Sergei looks hopeful.
Like he thinks I’m actually considering it.
Then I speak.
“Never.”
The word lands like a hammer.
Sergei’s face tightens.
“I don’t forgive traitors,” I continue evenly. “Not once. Not ever. I don’t care how long they served me. Loyalty isn’t something you borrow and then return when it’s convenient.”
I gesture toward the laptop.
“You sold me to my enemies.”
His breathing becomes heavier now.
“And worse,” I add quietly, “you came after my wife.”
The room grows colder.
“So no, Sergei,” I finish. “There is no second chance.”
For a second, he just stares at me.
Then something ugly twists across his face.
