32. Wren
WREN
Everyone was in favor of my idea and I relished the pride of being able to contribute a solid plan to the family. To the Bratva that was feeling like my family, even if Viktor didn’t want to officially make me part of the family.
We spent most of the day planning how to expose the bribed agents and to ensure that they wouldn’t be able to change the narrative. Stefan Rossi, a Mob boss in New York, shared his ideas in a video call because he and his relatives had dealt with that concept before.
Or at least he’d had experience with exposing politicians.
“They want to hide whatever they can from the public and keep everything down to flashy news bites and viral stories that put the heat on others,” he advised.
I wasn’t sure how much Smithson or anyone else could try to hide anything when we planned to share all the photos and videos of him accepting bribe money. Even the digital transactions were ready to be shared as images. Receipts mattered in this day and age.
All throughout the planning phase, Viktor kept me involved. He didn’t shut me out. None of the men acted like I couldn’t be there or be trusted. After the all-nighter I’d put in to stop that collaborative attack from happening, I felt like I’d earned their trust now.
Still, being near Viktor prompted me to think back to all that he’d said this morning.
Was he trying to propose?
Or am I just wishing he would?
We hadn’t even told each other that we loved each other, and a silly part of the hopeless romantic that I was wanted that to happen, too.
Just be grateful for what you have so far.
At that moment, a rise of nausea in my stomach triggered me to almost gag.
Nikolai noticed me grimacing across the table and raised his brows at me. “You okay?”
I nodded, not ready to share my suspicions about whether I could be pregnant yet. When I did, I hoped to do so when it was just me and Viktor.
“Well, with this news conference tonight about policy changes,” Maksim said, “we’ll be sure to have ample attention when the reporter we’ve tipped off speaks up.”
I bit my lip, still a little nervous about it going smoothly. There would be plenty of attention on them, all right, but I wanted to know how they’d react. Storm off and hide? Argue and say that the rumors were lies?
The reporter was just another Bratva member, a daughter of a boss who handled the distribution of arms. She had a different surname, though, so when she spoke up, she’d be seen as an independent party, not affiliated with the Bratva.
Later, after Viktor left with Lev and Nikolai, since they were going to wait around the location of the press conference on the Strip, I headed into the living room at the mansion.
It was starting to feel like a second home, but it wasn’t only because of the people here.
It was a workplace, too, and it was a meeting ground for the Bratva.
Between what I did when I worked for them or when I met with the brothers and cousins, it was a place for family, something I’d wanted since the day I found out my mom had been killed and I was stuck living on the streets until I turned eighteen.
“This has to work,” I muttered as I sat with Elena, Carina, and Mila.
We all huddled close to watch the press conference footage on the local news.
Luka and Isabel were both asleep, and I hoped they would stay like that during the conference so we wouldn’t miss a thing.
Adrik and Maksim headed out earlier with Alexsei, trying to track down Rico Johnson, who had seemed to be hiding lately.
Or maybe distancing himself from Smithson.
“I hope it does,” Elena said as she rested her elbows on her knees and leaned over, eyes glued to the screen.
We all watched as other officials spoke, but when it was Smithson’s turn, I narrowed my eyes and loathed that I’d ever met him. Just seeing him on the screen prompted me to recall how devious he had been, telling me to go on the stakeout where he should’ve been killed.
As he spoke, I realized this was yet another example of how far I’d come from what I thought would be my life.
I had dreamed of being a field agent. Like the professionals who stood with or behind Agent Smithson on the stage that was being recorded.
I had, for so long, imagined that I’d be able to share my report and opinions with the public about a crime I helped solve or a dangerous criminal I’d brought in to face their sentence.
Not anymore.
I wouldn’t be on the news. I wouldn’t be interviewed. Nothing like that. Sticking with the Volkovs meant that I’d need a degree of confidentiality to rely on. To stay off the public’s radar. To serve the Bratva’s interest and not heed the wishes of general society.
And it was… freeing. It was a freeing thought to not have to worry about pleasing layers of superiors and supervisors. Here, with these three women watching alongside me, I only had to do as Viktor asked and to obey Adrik as the interim leader.
I glanced at the three women who sat with me, and I realized with heart-rendering clarity that I wasn’t abandoning my former life and previous goals for the hell of it. I was upgrading and moving onto something bigger and better by this unexpected welcome to belong with all the Volkovs.
When Viktor kidnapped me right out of the alley, I never could’ve imagined waking up to find my place in life.
But I had, and I knew that however this press conference went, I’d have my place here.
“What about the record of your accepting ten thousand dollars from a member of the Cartel?” The reporter didn’t smile, didn’t flinch, watching him coolly.
“I’m not sure I follow,” Smithson said, smirking like the woman was a fool.
“The ten thousand dollars?” She raised her brows.
“Like in the images shared on this account.” The view on the TV cut away to show a social media post that showed the black-and-white images and then the still shots of Smithson accepting a bag of money.
“The images that show you taking money just a day before the charges were dropped for the associates of that man who belongs to the Cartel.” She mentioned the name, but that wasn’t what everyone was watching.
Smithson smirked. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
The reporter pressed him again and he played dumb.
And again, she brought up another image we’d leaked to her.
“This is blasphemy. All lies.” Smithson shook his head.
“These are tips from the public about your association with organized crime leaders in the region, Agent.”
“No.” He snarled at her. “No. These are not tips. If those images and videos weren’t already doctored and manipulated, then I bet it’s just bullshit lies and made-up stories from a delusional former agent.
We were extremely fortunate to have identified Wren Green as a spy for the most dangerous and despicable crime family in the state.
She turned traitor, forsaking her job and oath to serve the public, only to allow herself to fall to disgrace.
Wren Green is a waste of space and should repent for her crimes of selling confidential information she wasn’t authorized to access to criminals. ”
I heaved out a deep breath, letting his insults hit me and roll off my back.
Carina rubbed my arm, shaking her head and muttering low curses in Spanish.
“She’s a liar. And if anyone should have information about her whereabouts, she is wanted by multiple agencies in the area.”
“Special Agent Ranger,” the reporter asked, not backing down as she faced Smithson’s boss. “Do you have any input on the leaked images that show your subordinates accepting bribe money for favors?”
“I do not have any opinion or comment to officially make public at the time, but with what you’re showing…
” He frowned and looked at his phone as if he was just now seeing his own newsfeed.
“I’m curious to investigate the matter immediately, particularly on top of the news that our security firewalls have been compromised. ”
More people spoke up and talked over each other in the press pool, but Smithson was louder at the mic. “They are lies,” he insisted.
“I’m not in the position to put forth a reply to that publicly,” he repeated to the onslaught of questions pinging at him.
“She’s lying,” Smithson repeated.
Somewhere in the press pool, someone was pushed and shoved with all the members of the press standing up.
Just watching it via the live news report showed how chaotic it began to get.
Cops stepped forward to block the reporters from where Smithson stood at his podium, still preaching that he hadn’t done anything wrong and that he was facing nothing but lies.
Other agents, some of whom were on our lists to track for also accepting bribe money from Gregori’s network, stood and chimed in as well.
It was impossible to track who was saying what and what was going on where.
With how out of control the press conference got, it seemed like someone wanted to arrest the agents who were violently shouting at the more superior-ranking members.
They all got in each other’s faces, but it was the final show of Smithson, yelling directly at the camera, that would be imprinted in my brain for a long time.
“You’re a traitor, Wren Green. You’re nothing but a pathetic traitor to the law!”
More local officers showed up to get control of the room. The next scene was cut away to a different reporter, retreating toward the rear of the building, stating that the press conference was cut short and may resume later.
Elena muted the TV while it switched to a commercial.
I lowered my head and rubbed my face.
“You’re not a traitor,” Carina said.
I sighed, looking up. “It still stings for him to even say that. To me, someone who’s only ever wanted to do good and make a difference in the world.” I shook my head, saddened at how everything was so shifted and distorted now.
“He had the audacity to stand there and tell the world that I was the one who had to be hunted down and held accountable for what I have done?” I furrowed my brow, letting my anger fuel me into this fit of rage.
“I stopped him from committing crimes. I’m trying to help stop him from getting more work requests from Gregori’s new middle man and acting on them. ”
“And that’s how we know that you are good, Wren. You’re not a traitor.” Elena came to sit on the other side of me.
“Screw what he wants the rest of the world to think,” Carina said.
“We know what to think of you,” Mila added quietly from where she sat in the chair, still holding Luka who slept blissfully.
“You are good, and you belong with us,” Elena said, “not them.”
I smiled at them, embracing the easy friendships and comradery that they induced me to feel.
It felt too right, too good, to be included in their small group, and I prayed that Viktor would never change his mind about how my “stay” here could be as long as I wanted it to be.
Which would be forever if I had it my way.
I never wanted to lose the close friendships that I’d been forming with these women who proved that we could all contribute to protecting this strong and unshakable sense of family.