Chapter 23: Sinful Union: Chapter 23

“Right this way.”

I guide Darya down the corridor toward my office, aware of every hesitant step she takes. She’s wearing a borrowed sweater from Kat, her damp hair loose around her shoulders, still looking like she’s just been crying.

Under normal circumstances, I’d feel sorry for her. But these are far from normal circumstances, and I’m too on edge, too aware of her connection to Piotr.

I’m torn. Part of me wants to help this young woman, give her some assurance, some peace of mind. Another part of me, however, is all too aware that this could be some sort of trap set by Piotr. I’m not certain she’s innocent. Not yet.

My office door stands open, the dim light inside illuminating the dark wood and leather furniture. I gesture for Darya to enter first. She does, but with clear caution. It’s as if she’s expecting a gang of armed men to be waiting for her, ready to punish her for her betrayal.

I close the door behind us.

“Sit,” I say, motioning to the couch near the far wall.

She obeys, perching on the edge of the cushions. Her eyes skitter around the room, never landing on one object too long, like she’s searching for an escape route.

I cross to the small bar cart by the window and pour myself a scotch. “You drink?”

“I… yes. Please.”

I pour another into a crystal tumbler and hand her the glass, leaning back against the edge of my desk, arms folded across my chest. “Sip slowly; it’s strong.”

She takes a sip, then another, closing her eyes for a moment, savoring the taste. I can sense the booze is already working its magic, putting her at ease.

“Thank you,” she says softly, her gaze flicking up to meet mine for a brief moment before dropping again.

I allow myself to watch her, to gauge her reactions. She’s a little pale, eyes swollen from crying, but there is a backbone under there.

“I’ll keep you safe,” I tell her, “as long as you do your part. I can’t protect you without you giving me something in return. By that, I mean information and cooperation. Understand?”

She nods, swallowing hard. “Yes. That’s why I’m here. Kat said you could help.”

Kat. Always diving head-first into chaos.

“For the moment,” I continue, “you can stay here. Or I can set you up in a hotel out of town, someplace no one would think to look.”

Darya’s mouth forms a flat line. “I don’t like either choice. I have a job. I can’t just vanish, and I know I don’t want to stay here, in this world.”

I shrug. “Then handle your own protection. I’m not assigning a bodyguard to follow you around the city,” I say coldly.

She frowns, looking toward the door like she’s considering running. “You said you’d protect me.”

“And I will, but only if you agree to my terms. You can choose from two options: Stay under my roof or let me hide you elsewhere. If you refuse both, it’s at your own risk.”

She grips the tumbler, knuckles white. “I’ll think about it.”

“Do that. In the meantime—” I pause as footsteps approach outside, a familiar stride. The door opens, and Nikolai steps inside, flicking a glance at Darya before turning his attention to me.

“You said it was urgent, Boss.”

“Indeed.” I wave him closer. “Darya, this is Nikolai, my second-in-command. You can speak freely.”

She eyes Nikolai warily, then takes another sip of her scotch. “You want to know what I know.”

“That’s right.” My gaze drills into her. “Start from the beginning.”

She sets the tumbler on the coffee table, folding her hands in her lap. “I know Piotr hired men to attack those shops a few weeks back. He was bragging about it, proud of how it stirred up so much tension among your people.”

I keep my expression neutral, though inside, annoyance flares. If Piotr orchestrated those attacks, it means he’s far bolder than I gave him credit for.

“Go on,” I quietly urge.

Darya’s voice trembles a bit. “I overheard him on the phone. He thought I’d left, but I had to come back in to get my purse. He was in the study, talking, laughing, and saying how the Fetisov Bratva would bleed.” She grimaces. “He used the name Viktor, but I didn’t hear a last name.”

Nikolai looks at me. My jaw tightens. Hearsay and rumors. That’s all we have. It’s her word against Piotr’s. “Anything else?”

She glances away, chewing her lower lip. “I heard him mention a timeline. Something about needing it to look like your operations were failing. That’s why the shops were targeted—he wanted to make you look weak.”

Nikolai curses under his breath. I drag a hand over my face, anger building within.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have recordings or texts. Piotr’s careful. He doesn’t leave evidence.”

Nikolai steps to my side, his arms folded. “Novikov wants the Fetisov Bratva gone. That’s no secret. If Piotr’s dealing with Viktor—”

I finish the thought. “Then we have a major problem, but we have no evidence aside from Darya’s testimony.”

Her eyes dart between the two of us, fear evident. “I know it’s not enough, but it’s the truth.”

Nikolai exhales, clearly unimpressed but not dismissing her. “So Piotr’s cozying up to an enemy, trying to bring down the Fetisovs from the inside. We can’t act on rumors, though.”

I catch the slightest flicker of guilt crossing Darya’s face, like she knows we need more. “He’s been working on it for a while,” she says quietly. “He’s always said he’d find a way to make your men doubt you, that he’d bleed you dry from the inside.”

Her words slice through me, causing a fresh wave of anger to surge. My mind goes to Kat—her loyalty, her unwavering sense of family. She doesn’t believe Piotr’s an angel by any means, but does she know how evil he actually is? I recall the look in her eyes earlier, the urgency in her voice when she said we needed to talk after I handled things with Darya. What is she about to tell me?

My fists clench at my sides. I trust Kat, but a small part of me still wonders, if push came to shove, she’d pick her brother over me. That doubt coils in my gut, making me feel off-balance.

I turn back to Darya. “So that’s it? That’s the extent of what you know? He bragged about orchestrating attacks, dropping Viktor’s name?”

She nods. “That’s all. I’m sorry.”

Nikolai casts me a sidelong glance. We’re at an impasse. We can’t do much with words alone, but this, at least, confirms our suspicions. We needed some kind of lead, and now we have it, flimsy as it may be.

“It’s fine. As I said earlier, you can stay here if you want, or I’ll set you up in a hotel outside of town. Make your decision soon. In the meantime, you will not be going anywhere without an escort. Understand?”

Darya looks ready to protest, but after taking a look at my face, she nods, swallowing her pride or her fear, maybe both. “Understood.”

Nikolai clears his throat. “Want me to take her home, Boss?”

I nod. “Yes, make sure you check her apartment before she goes in, and that no one follows you there. Do not let her go anywhere other than work.”

Darya stands, smoothing her clothes, her posture stiff and guarded. “Thank you.”

I merely nod in response as I watch her leave my office, Nikolai at her side. He gives me one last look over his shoulder that silently says he’ll keep an eye on Darya, ensuring she obeys.

I answer his look with a slight nod, and the door shuts. I take a moment to allow the weight of what I’ve just heard to settle in. Piotr. The man who’s supposed to be Kat’s family, the man she could choose to protect if she had to, is conspiring with Viktor Novikov to destroy me.

Kat’s an Andreev, through and through, but she’s also my wife, in name if nothing else. She’s begun trusting me, something I didn’t think I’d value as much as I do.

How do I approach her with this? If I tell her Piotr’s orchestrating attacks, that he’s actively trying to bleed me out, will she believe me or will she run straight to him, demand an explanation, and blow my chance to gather real proof?

I pinch the bridge of my nose, exhaling slowly. Another pang of guilt stabs me when I recall the look in Kat’s eyes earlier. She said she needed to talk. Something’s clearly weighing on her. Is it about Piotr or something else entirely? Regardless, this isn’t how I want to find out where her loyalty lies—forcing a confrontation between her husband and her brother. But if Piotr keeps pushing, such a confrontation is inevitable.

I let my hand drop to my side, glancing around the dimly lit room. The clock on the wall ticks steadily, reminding me time is something I don’t have much of. Sooner or later, Piotr will make his move. He’s cunning, calculating, and ruthless enough to wage a war in the shadows, turning my allies against me.

I can’t let him get that far. But I can’t risk alienating Kat, either. Not now, when her trust could be the key to stabilizing this entire mess. If I come at her with accusations about her brother and no solid proof, I could lose her. And if I lose her, I lose the chance of keeping the fragile peace I’m clinging to.

So I’ll wait and gather evidence. Let Darya stay under my roof, if that’s what she ultimately chooses. If she’s telling the truth, her knowledge might help me piece together enough to bring Piotr down. If she’s lying, well, I’ll handle that when the time comes.

For now, the stage is set for a confrontation that may decide the fate of two Bratvas—and the fate of my marriage, because if Kat has to choose between her brother and me, I need to make sure the truth is undeniable.

I take a few deep breaths before pushing away from the desk. The next move is Piotr’s, whether he knows it or not.

And when he makes it, I’ll be ready.