Page 62 of Forced Marriage to the Cruel Bratva Pakhan

“So what’s the alternative?”

“Surveillance and investigation. Building a complete picture of her involvement before making accusations I can’t take back.” The tactical approach feels safer but somehow more dishonest. “Treat this like any other potential security breach and follow evidence wherever it leads.”

“Even if it leads to the woman you love being complicit in betraying you?”

I force steel into my voice. “If Serena is actively working against this organization, if she’s been lying this entire time—I need to know before emotions compromise my ability to handle the situation appropriately.”

Mikhail nods slowly. “I’ll coordinate with Viktor on the expanded surveillance. We’ll keep it quiet, limit knowledge to essential personnel only.”

“Serena doesn’t get treated any differently,” I add. “No increased restrictions, no obvious monitoring except for her cell phone. I want her behavior patterns normal so we can identify any deviations that suggest awareness of investigation.”

“Understood.” He moves toward the door, then pauses. “For what it’s worth—I don’t think she’s involved. She’s too transparent with her emotions, too obviously conflicted about her father. Real espionage requires better control than she’s demonstrated.”

“That’s exactly what makes her potentially effective.” I return to my desk. “The emotional transparency could be performance. The obvious conflict could be cover. I can’t afford to assume innocence just because the alternative hurts to consider.”

He leaves without further comment, and I’m alone again with surveillance footage and intercepted communications and the rapidly approaching deadline I gave Serena.

I pull up the security feeds from Serena’s room, watching her pace near the window for nearly an hour before finally settling at her desk. She’s writing something—notes, maybe, or processing whatever decision she’s wrestling with.

The footage doesn’t show deception. It shows genuine conflict, the kind that comes from difficult choices rather than calculated manipulation.

Appearances can be deceiving. I’ve seen operatives fake emotional turmoil convincingly enough to pass interrogation. Serena’s transparency could be exactly that—performance designed to lower my guard.

My phone buzzes with another update from Viktor:No outbound communications detected. Her phone hasn’t been used since this morning. No suspicious contacts.

The absence of evidence should reassure me. Instead, it just deepens the uncertainty.

If she’s not actively communicating with her father, how is he getting intelligence that correlates so precisely with information she’s been exposed to?

Unless the correlation is coincidental. Unless Souris has another source entirely.

Or unless there’s a gap in our surveillance I haven’t identified yet.

I stand and move to the connecting door between our rooms, my hand resting on the handle. One conversation could resolve this—direct confrontation, demand for honesty, refusal to let suspicion fester.

Confrontation assumes guilt. Destroys any possibility that she’ll come to me voluntarily with whatever she’s hiding.

I step back from the door, the choice made.

Investigation first. Confrontation only if evidence demands it.

Even if waiting feels like betrayal in itself.

Chapter Twenty-Three - Serena

I’m in the hallway outside Pavel’s study when I hear his voice—low, controlled, speaking rapid Russian into his phone. Normally I’d keep walking, respect his privacy, but something in his tone makes me pause.

Anger. Barely contained rage simmering underneath careful control.

I shouldn’t eavesdrop. Should announce my presence or leave entirely. But my feet stay rooted while my heart starts racing with instinctive dread.

“—three months of intelligence leaks,” Pavel is saying, his Russian crisp despite the fury underneath. “Financial records, shipping routes, guard rotations. Everything correlates with Souris’s timeline.”

Souris. My father.

My stomach drops.

“No, Mikhail, I don’t think it’s coincidence.” A pause. “The Kravin remnants couldn’t have positioned themselves this effectively without insider information. Souris has been their primary contact since Anton escaped.”