Page 64 of Forced Marriage to the Cruel Bratva Pakhan

“Show me.”

It’s not a request.

I nod and turn toward the door, but Pavel catches my wrist. “Serena. Before you do, I need to ask you something directly.”

I force myself to meet his gaze despite the fear making my pulse race. “Okay.”

“Have you been passing information to your father? Intentionally or otherwise, have you shared operational details that could compromise this organization?”

“No.” The answer is immediate and absolute. “Never. I wouldn’t… Pavel, I love you. I chose to stay here. I would never betray you like that.”

He studies my face with that intense focus that usually makes me feel seen. Right now it just makes me feel examined and assessed for signs of deception.

“The message from your father,” he says carefully. “What did it say?”

“I’ll show you. It’s in my room.” I pull against his grip gently, not trying to escape, just indicating direction. “You need to understand that I was going to tell you. I was struggling with whether to trust him, whether the offer was genuine or manipulation. That’s why I’ve been—”

“What offer?”

The sharp edge in his tone makes me flinch. “He—it doesn’t matter now. Just let me get the envelope and you can see for yourself.”

He releases my wrist but follows close behind as I head upstairs to our rooms. My hands shake as I retrieve the envelope from where I hid it in my desk drawer, the innocent-looking document suddenly feeling damning.

Pavel takes it without comment, reading the decoded message with an expression that grows progressively darker.

“He wanted you to steal financial records from my office,” he says flatly. “In exchange for escape and a new identity.”

“Yes.”

“You considered it.”

“Yes,” I admit, because lying now would destroy whatever fragile trust remains. “For a few hours, I seriously considered it. Not because I wanted to betray you, but because I was—I was scared and confused and my father was offering what looked like freedom from a situation that started with kidnapping and coercion.”

“You didn’t do it.”

“No.” I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the room’s warmth. “I realized that any freedom gainedthrough betraying you wouldn’t be real freedom. I love you more than I want escape.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, reading and rereading the message like he’s searching for hidden meanings in the coded text.

“This is exactly the leverage the Kravin remnants need,” he finally says. “The financial records your father requested—they detail our legitimate business operations. The accounts we use for legal transactions, political contributions, investments. Information that would let them target our above-board assets while maintaining plausible deniability.”

“I didn’t know that.” My voice comes out small. “I didn’t know what the records were for or why they mattered. I just knew my father wanted them.”

“You didn’t think to tell me immediately when this message arrived?” There’s hurt underneath the anger now. “Didn’t think that your father making contact might be relevant information I should have?”

“I was going to tell you!” The defense bursts out before I can control it. “I just needed time to process it first, to figure out what I wanted before I did anything.”

“So you considered it for a long while, then.”

The accusation is fair and cuts deep. “You’re right. I should have told you immediately. I was wrong to hide it, wrong to consider his offer even briefly, wrong to prioritize my own confusion over operational security.”

“Yes, you were.” He sets down the envelope with controlled force. “Do you understand what this looks like? Your father actively undermining my organization, you receiving secret communications and hiding them, you having accessto exactly the information he’s trying to obtain? From an operational standpoint, this suggests complicity.”

“You don’t actually think I’m complicit.” I search his face desperately. “Do you? Pavel, please, you know me. You know I wouldn’t.”

“I know you’ve been conflicted about being here since the beginning. I know you’ve attempted escape before. I know your father’s manipulation runs deep and your loyalty to him might override your feelings for me.” His voice is carefully controlled, each word measured. “What I don’t know is whether this message represents an isolated incident or part of an ongoing coordination I haven’t detected yet.”

The implication makes my stomach turn. “You actually think I’ve been spying for him.”