Chapter 17 Sasha
Sasha
I watch Tony’s face through the two-way mirror, and I know he’s telling the truth.
Not because of what he says. Words are cheap, especially from an admitted professional liar. But the anguish on his face is harder to fake.
I see the muscle working in his jaw, and the way he won’t look away from Dmitri, even though every instinct in his body has got to be telling him to hide. There’s devastation in his eyes when he talks about me.
I’ve spent years authenticating forgeries. I know how to spot a fake.
This isn’t one.
“Adrian Belmont,” Dmitri repeats, and I watch my brother’s knuckles go white around the edge of the phone in his hand.
Adrian.
My ex-colleague from Christie’s.
The man whose operation I exposed six months ago, when I discovered he was using the auction house to launder money for criminal networks across Europe. He lost everything because of me—his job, his reputation, and his carefully constructed legitimate facade.
Now, he’s using Tony to destroy me the same way.
I press one hand against the glass like I can reach through it and… what? Comfort him? Slap him? I don’t even know.
“What did Adrian hire you to do to my sister?” Dmitri asks.
Tony doesn’t even hesitate before he answers this time.
“He wanted me to make Sasha fall for me. Get close enough for her to trust me so that I could learn everything about her. Her fears and weaknesses. What would hurt her most. Then, he’d use that information to break her while her family watched. ”
The way he describes it makes my chest ache. Like I’m a target. A mark. An objective to be completed.
“And you agreed to this,” Dmitri notes.
“I took his money, yes. Fifty thousand up front, another fifty when the job was done.”
A hundred thousand dollars. That’s what my heart was worth to him.
No. That’s not fair. He’s already admitted that he didn’t go through with it.
But he took the job in the first place.
“Walk me through it,” Dmitri orders. “How were you supposed to approach her?”
Tony adjusts his position in the chair with a wince.
The restraints around his wrists must be cutting into his skin by now, but he doesn’t complain.
“Adrian provided intelligence on Sasha’s movements.
Things like her work schedule and her social routine.
He knew she’d be at Alexei’s wedding, so that was my opening.
I was supposed to present myself as an American journalist doing a piece on legitimate Russian businesses, someone outside the criminal world who could offer her the distance from the Bratva that she’d sought in London. ”
Every word lands like a hammer.
It worked; I bought every bit of it. The charming American with no connection to my family’s world. The man who asked intelligent questions about art instead of violence. Someone who made me feel normal instead of constantly on guard.
“Adrian wanted you to exploit her desire for legitimacy,” Dmitri says.
“Yes. He said Sasha spent years building an identity separate from the Kozlov name, and that she’d be drawn to someone who wasn’t a part of that world.”
“He knows my sister well.”
“He’s obsessed with her,” Tony corrects. “This isn’t just about revenge against your family. This is personal. He wants Sasha to feel the same betrayal she inflicted on him when she exposed his Christie’s operation.”
I knew Adrian was angry when I reported him. He sent me emails for weeks afterward, alternating between begging me to recant my statement and accusing me of hypocrisy for using my family’s reputation to destroy his career while pretending I wanted distance from the criminal world.
I eventually blocked him.
Maybe I should have paid more attention.
“What was your timeline?” Dmitri asks.
“I met Sasha at the wedding six weeks ago. The plan was to establish contact, build trust over four to six weeks, and then Adrian would create a crisis that forced me to choose between protecting her and completing the mission. When I inevitably betrayed her, it would devastate her in front of her family.”
“Poetic,” Dmitri scoffs.
“Adrian’s dramatic. He wanted the betrayal to be public and humiliating. Something Sasha would never recover from.”
My hands are shaking. I curl them into fists and press them against my thighs.
Dmitri leans back against the table. “So, what changed? Why didn’t you follow through?”
This is the part I need to hear. The part that will tell me if any of it was real.
Tony takes a breath. When he speaks, his voice is quieter.
“I met her. That’s what changed. Adrian gave me a profile.
Kozlov’s youngest sibling, works in art authentication, wants legitimacy.
On paper, she was just another job. But then I talked to her at the wedding, and she… wasn’t what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“Someone easier to manipulate. Someone who’d fall for the act without question.
Instead, I met someone who asked questions that made me work for every answer.
Who saw through half my bullshit before I even finished the sentence.
Someone who talked about art with a passion that made me want to listen to her for hours. ”
I remember that conversation. Standing on the balcony at Alexei’s reception, while Tony asked me about authentication techniques. He seemed so interested, and I was charmed by his curiosity.
It was all an act.
Except maybe it wasn’t.
“Go on,” Dmitri prompts.
“I started sabotaging my investigation that first week. Adrian wanted detailed intelligence on your financial operations and business associates. I gave him fake records. Made-up security details. Fictional contacts. I’ve fed him garbage for six weeks because I couldn’t…
” Tony stops to swallow. “I couldn’t give him the ammunition to hurt her. ”
“Why not?” Dmitri’s voice is hard. “You took his money. You signed a contract. Why risk everything to protect someone you were hired to destroy?”
Tony looks directly at the mirror. He can’t see me through the glass, but I know he’s talking to me now.
“Somewhere between the mission and the person, I stopped being able to separate the two,” he explains.
“I’d sit across from her at dinner and forget I was supposed to be gathering intelligence.
I’d watch her examine a painting and realize I didn’t care about Adrian’s contract.
I just wanted to keep seeing that look on her face when she discovered something beautiful. ”
My vision blurs. I blink rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall.
“What I feel for her isn’t part of any mission.
” Tony is still looking at the mirror. “It’s not something I can fake.
That’s real. I know I don’t deserve her forgiveness.
I know I’ve destroyed any chance I had with her.
But I need her to know that none of my feelings were a performance.
Every moment we spent together—the train ride to St. Petersburg, teaching her a card game, and listening to her talk about her mother’s recipes—all of it mattered to me. All of it was real.”
Dmitri crosses his arms. “Why should we believe any of this?”
“You shouldn’t,” Tony admits. “I’ve given you no reason to trust me. But I know Sasha is watching, and I need her to understand that none of my feelings were a performance. I’m not asking for forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. But every moment between us was real. I was just happy to be with her.”
Dmitri moves closer to the chair. “You realize what you’re confessing to. Adrian will come after you for breach of contract.”
“Let him. I’d rather face him than hand over ammunition to destroy her. I’m telling you everything because it’s the only way to protect her from what’s coming.”
“Or you’re lying to me now.”
“Then test me. Use me. Let me prove it by helping you stop Adrian before he finds someone else to finish what I wouldn’t.”
Boris speaks up from behind Tony. “We should kill him. He’s admitted to everything. Why keep him alive?”
My heart skips a beat.
Dmitri doesn’t answer right away. He’s still watching Tony and weighing his options.
“He’s useful,” Dmitri finally decides. “Adrian still thinks Tony’s cover is intact. We can use that.”
“And if he’s playing us?”
“We can kill him later.” Dmitri pushes off the table. “First, I want to verify everything he’s said. Pull his communications. Cross-reference the intelligence against our actual operations. If he’s telling the truth, we have a bigger problem to deal with.”
He turns toward the door and the observation room where I’m standing.
I don’t wait for him to find me. I can’t face my brother right now and let him see how conflicted I am about a man who just admitted to taking a contract to destroy me.
I slip out of the observation room and down the hallway before Dmitri emerges. The warehouse feels like a tomb.
The afternoon sun is too bright outside. I squint against it and lean against the building to catch my breath.
Tony took Adrian’s money. He agreed to make me fall for him so Adrian could break me.
But he also sabotaged his mission, fed Adrian false information, and protected me instead of betraying me.
Which version of him is real? The operative who takes contracts to destroy people, or the man who couldn’t go through with it?
I don’t know. And that’s what terrifies me most. I still want to believe him even after everything he’s confessed.
He looked at the mirror like he could see me standing behind it as he confessed everything, knowing it would probably result in his death.
Either he’s the best liar I’ve ever met, or he cares about me enough to sacrifice everything.
I need to figure out which one is true before I decide what happens next.