Chapter 21 - Sasha
Sasha
I’m halfway through my second cup of coffee when Dmitri texts me: Come to my office.
No explanation. No context. Just a command that means drop everything and come immediately.
I set down my mug and head to his office. Whatever this is about, it involves Tony. Nothing else would warrant the terse summons at eight in the morning.
When I arrive, Alexei and Boris are already there. Tony stands near the window, looking like he hasn’t slept. Our eyes meet for a fraction of a second before I look away.
“Close the door,” Dmitri instructs.
I do. Then I take the empty chair across from his desk.
Dmitri doesn’t waste time with pleasantries.
“We’re using Tony to identify Adrian’s source inside the organization.
He’ll continue feeding Adrian false intelligence while we track who else has access to that information.
When it appears in Adrian’s hands through channels other than Tony, we’ll know who’s betraying us. ”
I press my lips into a thin line and nod. “How long will this take?”
“Weeks. Maybe longer. Tony will be staying at the compound under surveillance. You’ll see him regularly. I need to know if that’s going to be a problem.”
“It won’t be.”
“Are you sure? Because if you can’t handle working in proximity to him, I need to know now.”
“I can handle it.”
Dmitri eyes me. He doesn’t believe me, but he also knows I won’t change my answer.
“All right, then. We have parameters in place for Tony’s contact with Adrian. If he deviates at all, Boris will handle it.”
“Handle it how?” I ask.
“However is necessary,” Boris replies from his position by the door.
Tony doesn’t react to the threat. Just keeps his gaze fixed somewhere over my shoulder.
“What do you need from me?” I ask Dmitri.
“Nothing yet. But if Adrian asks Tony about you —your routines, your vulnerabilities, your feelings about the family—I want you prepared to help craft responses that sound authentic.”
“You want me to help him lie to Adrian about me.”
“Adrian’s not going to give up. He’s obsessed. We need to manage that obsession until we can eliminate the threat.”
The word “eliminate” settles in the room like smoke.
“When do we start?” I ask.
“We already have. Tony sent his first message to Adrian yesterday. We’re waiting to see how he responds.”
Dmitri dismisses Alexei and Boris with a nod. They leave, and suddenly it’s just the three of us—me, my brother, and the man who took a contract to destroy me.
“Sasha, can I have a moment?” Dmitri asks.
“Of course.”
He looks at Tony. “Wait in the hallway.”
Tony leaves without argument, and Dmitri comes around the desk and leans against it, crossing his arms. “Are you really okay with this? Because once we commit, there’s no going back. If you can’t handle seeing him every day, tell me now.”
I swallow hard against the lump that’s lodged itself in my throat. “I’m fine.”
“You had sex with him three days ago in that cell. Now you want to pretend you can work alongside him like nothing happened?”
I didn’t realize Dmitri knew about that. My face must show my surprise because he continues.
“Boris sees everything that happens in this compound. Did you think he wouldn’t report that my sister visited a prisoner alone and didn’t leave for forty-five minutes?”
“It was a mistake.”
“Maybe. Or maybe you’re trying to figure out if what you felt for him was real. And that’s not a mistake. That’s just confusing and messy.”
I wrap my arms around myself. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“None of us do. But I need to know you can handle this, Sasha. If you can’t, that’s okay. I’ll keep you out of it. But I can’t have you falling apart in the middle of an operation because you’re too close to the situation.”
“I won’t fall apart.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
He gives me one curt nod and replies “Okay. Then let’s get to work.”
He opens the door and calls Tony back in. We spend the next hour going over details—what information Tony has access to, what Adrian’s likely to ask for, and how we’ll verify each piece of intelligence before it’s sent.
I sit quietly and listen. Take notes. Ask clarifying questions when necessary. Act like a professional.
But the entire time, I’m hyperaware of Tony standing ten feet away. The way he adjusts his weight when Dmitri asks difficult questions. How his voice goes flat when he talks about Adrian’s demands and how he avoids looking at me unless absolutely necessary.
My body remembers things my mind wants to forget.
I cross my legs and focus on my notes.
Finally, Dmitri declares the meeting over. “Tony, Boris will escort you back to your room. Sasha, stay for a minute.”
Tony leaves. I wait.
“You’re doing well,” Dmitri says once we’re alone again. “Better than I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. Tears, maybe. Anger. Something.”
I draw in a long breath and ask, “Would you prefer tears?”
“I’d prefer honesty.”
I consider lying. Consider telling Dmitri that I’m completely over Tony and that seeing him means nothing to me. But my brother deserves better than that.
“I don’t know what I feel,” I admit. “Part of me hates him for what he did. Part of me wants to believe he’s telling the truth about sabotaging his own mission. And part of me just wants to understand who he is when he’s not lying.”
“That’s fair.”
“Is it? Because it feels disastrous.”
“Love usually is.” Dmitri stands. “Go get some rest. We’ll reconvene tomorrow morning to review Adrian’s response.”
I leave his office and head toward my room. The compound is quiet this time of day. Most of the men are out handling business, and the ones who remain don’t bother me as I walk through the hallways.
My mind won’t stop replaying the meeting. The way Tony’s shoulders looked in that t-shirt, his voice dropping when he talked about Adrian, and how he glanced at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. The hunger I saw in that glance before he hid it.
I’m almost to my door when I hear footsteps behind me.
“Sasha.”
I turn. Tony is standing fifteen feet away with his hands in his pockets. Boris is nowhere in sight, which means he’s giving us privacy while still watching from somewhere.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“I need to apologize.”
I wave my hand in the air. “I don’t want apologies.”
“Then what do you want?”
The question stops me.
What do I want?
For him to have never taken Adrian’s contract? For the past month to have been real instead of a mission? For my body to stop responding every time he’s in the same room?
“I want to understand who you are,” I finally reply. “Not the operative. Not the cover identity. Just you. Who is Tony when he’s not running a mission?”
He takes a step closer. “Honestly? I don’t know anymore. I’ve been someone else for so long that I’m not sure there’s anything real left underneath.”
He runs a hand through his hair, and I remember grabbing that hair while he was on his knees in front of me.
“But I can tell you what I know,” he continues. “I’m someone who lost his entire team in Chechnya three years ago because I trusted an asset I was sleeping with. She fed me false intelligence that got six good men killed. Men who trusted me to keep them safe.”
“What happened to her?”
“The Agency pulled me out before I could do anything I’d regret.
She disappeared. Probably got paid well for her work.
After that, I stopped believing I deserved anything good.
Stopped letting myself get close to anyone.
The work became the only thing that mattered because it was the only thing that couldn’t betray me. ”
“And then you took Adrian’s contract.”
“I took Adrian’s contract because it was just another job. Money for information. No attachments. No risks.” He takes another step closer. We’re ten feet apart now. “Until I met you at that wedding and realized I’d miscalculated everything.”
“Stop.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re good at this. At saying exactly what I want to hear. And I can’t tell if you mean it or if it’s just another performance.”
“It’s not a performance.”
“How am I supposed to believe that? You’ve admitted to lying, Tony. You’ve admitted you took money to destroy me. So tell me why I should trust a single word out of your mouth right now.”
He opens his mouth. Closes it. Takes a breath.
“You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t trust me. You shouldn’t believe me. You should walk away and never look back because that’s the smart thing to do.”
He moves closer. Five feet now. Close enough that I have to tilt my head up to maintain eye contact.
“But Sasha, I’m standing here anyway,” he continues. “Telling you the truth. Hoping like hell that you’ll see the difference between what I was hired to do and what I actually feel.”
“And what do you feel?”
“Terrified. Guilty. Like I’m drowning and you’re the only thing keeping me afloat.” He’s so close now I could reach out and touch him. “Like maybe I don’t deserve you, but I want to try becoming someone who does.”
The honesty in his voice makes my throat tighten. My body remembers him. Wants him. I could close the distance between us in two steps. Could pull him into my room and let him remind me why I fell for him in the first place.
But that’s exactly why I can’t.
“I need time,” I state, taking a step back. “Time to figure out if what we had was real or if I’m just seeing what I want to see.”
“Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
He doesn’t move closer. Doesn’t push. Just watches me with those blue eyes that make my stupid knees weak despite how much my brain screams he’s the enemy.
“Sasha,” he whispers, “for what it’s worth, I think about that cell every night. The way you looked at me. The way you tasted. The way you said my name when you—”
“Don’t,” I snap through gritted teeth.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m trying very hard not to think about it, and you’re making it impossible.”
Something akin to satisfaction crosses his face. “Good. I don’t want to be the only one who can’t stop thinking about it.”
My body heats. I want to slap him for the arrogance, to kiss him for the honesty. I want to drag him into my room and make him prove that everything between us was real.
Instead, I turn and walk to my door with as much dignity as I can manage.
“Sasha,” he calls after me.
But I unlock my door and step inside without responding. Only when it’s closed and locked do I let myself breathe.
I lean against the wall and close my eyes. My body is still alive from being so close to him. From the way he looked at me. From the memory of what we did in that cell and how much I want to do it again.
This is dangerous. He’s dangerous. Not because he might hurt me physically, but because he’s already under my skin in ways I can’t control.
I change into pajamas, brush my teeth, and get ready for bed even though it’s barely nine o’clock.
I know I won’t sleep.
When I turn off the lamp, I notice something white on the floor near the door. A piece of paper.
I pick it up and unfold it.
Tony’s handwriting. Just two lines.
You asked which parts were real. All of it. Every moment I made you laugh.
I read it twice. Then three times. My fingers trace the words like I can feel the truth in them through touch alone.
Then I fold it carefully and put it in my nightstand drawer, pressing it flat between the pages of a book I’ve already read but can’t seem to throw away—because some things are worth keeping, even when you’re not sure why yet.