Page 84 of Forced & Obsessed By the Bratva King
The warmth in my chest turns sour as I spread the pictures in the folder out on the table. There are CCTV photos of Artem meeting up with Vasili, them exchanging burner phones and flash drives, a text message between one of Vasili’s men and Artem on the night of the attack.
Everything points to Artem being a rat.
I haven’t cried since I was five, but the weight of his betrayal draws a single tear from my eyes.
Elena watches me, concern flashing across her features. “Is that…was Artem behind the attack?”
I nod once, my jaw clenching. “Give us a moment. I have business to take care of.”
She doesn’t look like she wants to leave my side, even for a moment. Still, she gently slides off my legs, but doesn’t take her eyes off me. “Will you be okay?”
I nod again. The anger surging through me is so intense that I can’t bring myself to say another word, afraid my self-control will slip if I speak.
“Okay.” Her throat bobs, her chest heaving. “I’ll be waiting for you in the bedroom.”
Pushing up from the chair, I press a kiss to the top of her head. “I won’t be long.”
“Okay.” She glances at Mikhail, then back at me, before walking out of the home office and shutting the door behind her.
She’d been shaken from seeing the dead bodies and all the blood on the day of the attack. She still has nightmares about it, and the last thing I want to do is traumatize her further by exposing her to more bloodshed.
“What do we do now?” Mikhail asks.
We’ve taken out many traitors over the years. Some of them were planted by our enemies. Others were ungrateful assholes who simply didn’t hesitate to bite the hand that fed them the moment they got a better offer. But this will be the first time we’re taking out one of our own.
Grabbing my phone from the table, I send a text to Artem.
Meet me in the home office. Now.
His response appears a few seconds later.
I’ll be there in five minutes.
Mikhail drops into one of the chairs across from my desk and props his ankle on his knee, drumming his fingers on the desk absentmindedly as we wait for Artem.
“Think he’ll try to run when he finds out we have him cornered?”
I close the folder in front of me. “No.”
Artem has been many things—reckless, stubborn, a traitor. But he’s never been a coward.
What feels like an eternity passes before the door groans open and Artem walks into the office with his usual confident stride. “Hey, man,” he says to Mikhail before turning toward me. “Is something wrong? You look awful.”
I lean back in my chair, scrutinizing him. I imagine this must’ve been what my father felt in his last moments, when he realized his own friend had betrayed him. I can physically feel my brain chemistry altering, the pain making it hard for me to breathe.
“I just found out I’ve been harboring a traitor for a long time,” I drawl, steepling my fingers in front of me.
A deep frown creases the space between his eyebrows. “Who’s the fucker?” he growls. “Say the name and I’ll get rid of that bastard myself.”
“Will you?” I play along, like a predator playing with its food before feasting on it. “You’d be surprised.”
I stare at him.
He doesn’t look any different than he always has—same dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes that have always seemed alert and restless. Except now I’m looking into the eyes of a traitor, and unease washes over me.
His expression hardens. “Who?”
I pull open the folder and slide a photograph across the desk.
