Page 53 of Mr. and Mrs. Novak

"Fuck… that’s impossible. You’re Claire Dumont."

My breath catches. I turn slightly to meet his gaze, but he keeps going, relentless.

"I planted a bug on Natasha’s phone. That’s how I found out Stanford has been looking for a hacker since the drug seizure the night of the gala. Damn it, Sophia… do you realize what that means? You’re going after a dangerous man. A man who’s killed for less."

"He’s looking for Claire Dumont—who no longer exists. My team erased every trace of her. I don’t know where tonight’s hitmen came from."

A heavy silence settles over the room. Ruslan finally breaks it, his voice lower, tightly controlled.

"Tell me everything from the beginning. Why are you investigating Stanislas?"

I lower my eyes for a moment, weighing every word.

"My mission was to investigate Nexora Trade and map out their network. The goal was to identify their criminal connections and understand how they operate in the shadows."

He listens, dark gaze fixed on me.

"Officially, Nexora Trade is an import-export consulting and auditing firm. In reality, it’s a front for far more dangerous trafficking through a complex web of shell companies—weapons, high-tech devices, drugs. They use their logistics infrastructure to move shipments discreetly and launder the money from those operations."

Ruslan nods slowly, worry creasing his forehead.

"This wasn’t a coincidence. You didn’t just stumble onto Stanford. You targeted him… because of Natasha. And me."

I don’t answer. I don’t need to.

His dark eyes cloud as he steps closer—but this time, he stops inches away, as if refusing to cross another line.

"Why did you do it, Sophia?"

My throat tightens. I stay silent. He murmurs, almost to himself,

"The day of our wedding… when you caught me with Natasha… you didn’t just discover my betrayal. You realized my life was in danger."

His voice keeps going, stripping away my defenses one by one.

"Despite everything, you investigated. You wanted to know who Stanford really was, how much control he had over me. Because that’s who you are. You protect the people you care about—even when they don’t deserve it."

His hand brushes my cheek, tentative.

"You tried to free me from him."

He stops, then exhales, broken.

"Why? I didn’t deserve that."

Tears sting my eyes. My silence answers him better than words ever could.

"You risked your life for me," he whispers.

I can see it in his eyes—he understands now. And that understanding comes at a cost. Stanford won’t let him go anymore. From now on, he’s fully exposed, under suspicion, in too deep. Because of me. Because of her.

His mouth crashes down onto mine, fierce and desperate. I freeze for a single second—just one—aware that nothing is resolved, that this kiss erases nothing.

Then I give in.

We nearly died tonight.

He lays me back on the bed, his body covering mine without trapping me, as though still waiting for my consent. His strong arms wrap around me, but I know that tomorrow, everything will be harder.