Page 81 of Arranged Marriage to the Brutal Bratva King
I climb into bed carefully, not wanting to wake her. Pull her against my chest, feeling her settle into the familiar position without waking.
Her heartbeat is steady under my palm. Trusting.
The irony isn’t lost on me. She lies here in my arms, breathing evenly, while somewhere in this penthouse sits evidence of her planned betrayal.
She will betray me.
The certainty settles cold and heavy in my chest. Not tonight, maybe. Not tomorrow. But eventually, when the right opportunity presents itself, when she thinks she’s gathered enough information or the risk is worth the reward—she’ll try.
I’ll have to decide what to do about it.
My phone buzzes. Felix, right on schedule.
Marco Santini’s last known location was Brighton Beach. I have people watching. If he moves, we’ll know.
I type back one-handed, the other still holding Janice.
Find out who he’s working with. Pedro doesn’t make moves without approval from higher up. I want to know who sanctioned the approach.
On it. Be careful. She’s already proven once she’s capable of destroying you. Don’t give her the ammunition to do it again.
I don’t respond. Just set the phone on the nightstand and return my attention to the woman in my arms.
Felix is right, as usual.
Janice shifts in her sleep, making a small sound. Her hand finds mine where it rests against her stomach, threading our fingers unconsciously.
Even asleep, she reaches for me.
The gesture should mean nothing. Sleep is when we’re least guarded, least aware. Her body seeks warmth and comfort without her mind’s permission or participation.
Still. It feels like something.
My phone buzzes again.
Surveillance footage from the event. Santini and Janice in the hallway. Timestamp 22:47. Sending now.
The video arrives seconds later. I watch it three times, analyzing every frame.
Janice exits the restroom, adjusting her dress. Santini approaches from the opposite direction, their collision perfectly timed. He steadies her with a hand on her arm—contact that lasts exactly three seconds. Long enough to pass something small. Long enough to whisper instructions.
She smiles, says something I can’t hear. Thanks him, probably. Then continues down the hallway without looking back.
Professional. Clean. There’s no indication they knew each other before that moment.
Which means the approach was new. She hasn’t been working against me for months—this is a fresh recruitment.
I tell Felix:Enhance the audio. I want to know exactly what was said. And find out where Santini is staying. I want eyes on him 24/7.
Already done. He’s at a hotel in Midtown. Two security, rotating shifts. Want me to bring him in?
I consider it. Grabbing Santini, extracting information through the methods we’ve perfected over years. Learning exactly what the Zullos offered Janice, what they wanted in return.
No. Let him think he’s safe. Let him report back that the approach was successful. I want to know what moves they make next.
You’re using your wife as bait.
I’m gathering intelligence.
